Rage (Her Monsters Book One) - K.A Knight Page 0,70
need to be careful. I do not want to lead them to my mate or expose myself to the world and the remaining dragons. It means I need to be smart about this. It is fair enough to say my cars here have probably already been compromised. Either with a tracking beacon or bug.
That means I need to find another form of transport, and flying is out for obvious reasons. Leaving the flames behind, I walk down my hall and back to my bedroom, heading straight into the welcoming pool. I don’t know when I will be back, so for tonight I will enjoy the feel of home, dispose of the bodies, and rest.
Tomorrow, I will leave again.
Submerging myself in the water, I let it wash away the blood and scent of death before staring out across the mountain, letting the cool air and nature soothe me. I sigh, knowing time is ticking away, so I slide from the water, leaving myself to air dry as I make my way back through the halls to the bodies.
Standing above them, I cross my arms while I think. Now, what to do with them? Before, I have tossed one or two off the side of the mountain. I have also burned one previously in the fireplace. One I let the helpers clean up, but this large amount?
It will require a cleaning crew. Sighing, I head over to the counter and the phone sitting there. I dial the one number I have that always puts me in contact with a member of the Sinclair family—the humans I trust—and I wait as it rings. I suppose it is in the middle of the night, but exhaustion is pulling at me now, making me irritable.
Eventually, someone picks up the other end as a tired sounding, heavily accented voice answers, “Yes?”
“Dragoliou Sinclair,” I address, speaking the words of our bond throughout the ages.
There is silence on the other end, then he responds, “Monsieur, how may I assist you? I am so sorry for my rude greeting. Are you back? Do you require food or supplies?” He speaks quickly now, with excitement in his voice. No doubt when this fell to him from his father or mother, he never expected to be called to service.
“I need a clean-up crew at the mountain estate in the morning, make it discreet, we have eyes. I also want a full sweep for tracking devices or bugs,” I demand, and I hear him scribbling on the other end, good. Hopefully he might get it right. The Sinclairs are nothing if not prompt and reliable.
“Anything else, sir?” he asks, eager to please.
“I am leaving for a while and I will need a car, clothes, and money sent to the mountain estate by morning. I shall also need the ring from West Bank. You have the key to the deposit box, yes?” I inquire, and there is a heavy pause.
“Of course sir, does this mean—I am sorry, that is rude,” he backpedals, making me smile even as I lean against the wall and my muscles scream at me.
“One thing you will learn, never feel the need to hold your tongue with me. Edgar didn’t, and that is why I trusted him above all else in the world,” I comment.
“Yes sir, thank you. I just wished to know if this meant you had finally found your mate? I have read the journals day after day and the only mention of the ring is between yourself and my great-great-great grandfather when you said it was a present, one only meant for your true mate. Your call,” he gushes, making my smile turn full-blown. He is intelligent, I shall give him that, and it is clear he knows the history.
“Yes, she called me from my slumber. I am seeking her tomorrow,” I reply.
“How amazing! I will include your family journals, presents, the call gifts, and everything you will need for your future mate.” He sounds distracted again, no doubt his brain is whirring as he makes plans, but it is good he thought of all of that because I certainly did not.
“Thank you...” I trail off, realising I never asked his name.
“Jean Paul, sir. You may call me whatever you want. I will program my number and any others I think you need into the cell, which will be with your belongings in your car at the estate by nine AM sharp. Anything else, sir?”