Christmas Griffin - Zoe Chant Page 0,63

members of the hotel staff came in wheeling trolleys of food. Mrs. Belgrave pinched her lips in ostentatiously. *I was beginning to wonder where our breakfast was! Honestly, they call this service?*

Hardwick called it damn good service. They’d only made their orders a few minutes before, and the dishes looked freshly cooked, not like they’d been sitting under a warmer slowly drying out. His stomach rumbled as the server set a plate of crispy bacon and mounds of scrambled eggs in front of him. Even the greens on the side looked fresh. Nothing like the pre-cooked, re-heated rubbish he’d been planning to dine on the whole holiday.

“This looks better than those enchiladas,” he said to Delphine.

“Significantly better. The coffee’s nicer, too.”

“You mean it’s actually drinkable?”

She smiled, and just before she turned away to accept her own plate of food, her smile changed. It became a little less amused, and a little more honest. A pocket of realness between the two of them, amidst all her family’s insincerity.

Then she replied to something her grandmother said, and it changed again, back into the pleasant, utterly insincere expression that she wore around all of her older relatives. Hardwick frowned.

“Keeping people safe. Well, I’m sure there are worse things to dedicate your soul to,” Mr. Belgrave joked. He waved a fork at Hardwick. “Almost a shame you’re paired with Delphine, though. Belgraves don’t need saving as a rule.”

A vision of Delphine out cold in the snow flashed into Hardwick’s mind, and his griffin’s crest rose angrily. “That so?”

At the other end of the table, a pocket of silence fell. If Hardwick hadn’t been keeping an ear on the twins, he wouldn’t have noticed it.

“We keep to tradition with many things, but the whole damsel in distress thing is so passé,” Mrs. Belgrave said. “A true lioness would never let herself get into a situation where she was reliant on anyone else.”

Her eyes flicked down the table. Hardwick didn’t see who she was looking at, but Delphine went tense.

“No, we’re all about the saving, aren’t we, Grandmother? Oh,” she added. “And the family, Grandfather. I can’t forget that.”

“I guess that makes saving family the ultimate twofer.” Hardwick was struggling to keep his temper under control. They would have left her. They wouldn’t have even bothered to look for her. She could have died out there, and her family would have been here, laughing and congratulating themselves on how powerful and family-oriented they were. “Seems like a hard bet if your family members never need to be saved.”

“Hardwick—” Delphine hissed under her breath. Her hand found his and squeezed it tight. “Don’t—”

“Not exactly, my dear,” Mrs. Belgrave said, the words dropping from her mouth like poison. She looked down the table again and then shut her eyes, like a martyr praying for strength. “True Belgraves would never need to be saved, of course. I would be happy to count those who marry into the family in that, but I’m afraid that history—”

“Hey,” Anders called out. “Are you talking about our dad?”

“Would anyone like some more coffee?” Delphine said desperately.

“—history is against us in that respect. And thus, sadly, Belgraves may indeed find ourselves called upon to save other Belgraves. Whatever the cost.”

“And without weighing up whether the possible benefits are worth it.”

Outrage roared against the inside of Hardwick’s skull. It wasn’t the pain of lies—it was a telepathic scream, as wordless and intense as dragonling Cole’s had been when he was caught in the snow. Even Delphine winced and hissed in a breath.

Her eyes flew to his. “What was—oh, no.”

Anders and Vance were both standing up, their faces stormy. “What do you mean, possible benefits?” Anders growled.

Opposite them, their mother tried fruitlessly to reach across the table and tug them back down into their seats. Hardwick couldn’t hear her whispered pleas, but he got the gist.

The two elder Belgraves stared at the commotion with equally disdainful expressions. “I meant exactly what I said,” Alastair sniffed.

“Yeah, which is? Come on. If you’re going to say it, say it!”

“No...” Delphine whispered. Hardwick stood up and touched her shoulder.

“All right,” he said out loud, pitching his voice to convey rationality and level-headedness, “let’s hold off a minute and stay calm, not-”

“All I am saying is—don’t look at me like that, Delphy, if she didn’t want to hear it then she should have kept your brothers in line—is that if one is going to save someone, it’s best to think of the overall benefit of that, versus the risk. Now,