Sun Broken (The Wild Hunt #11) - Yasmine Galenorn Page 0,38
queens paused, staring at one another. I could feel the crackle flickering between them. They seemed to sense my scrutiny and turned toward me. I straightened, hands on my hips, as I stared back at them. I was everything they despised, a mix of their warring bloodlines. They denied my right to exist even as they sought to obliterate the other.
“I’m your balance,” I whispered, so low that surely they couldn’t hear me. But they froze, still staring at me. Not even realizing what I was doing, I said, “I’m your future, so get used to it. You may have an eternity behind you, but the world is changing. It’s time to stop with the us and them, because a greater them is coming and we’re all going to be on our bellies in the trenches.”
As one, they turned, exchanged glances, and disappeared into their respective vehicles.
Behind me, Herne cupped my elbow. “What was that?”
“I think, a warning.” The question was, where had it come from? And who had sent it?
Chapter Nine
Back at the office, Herne wasted no time in contacting his mother. Within an hour, two very large, beefy Elves were standing in the waiting room, along with four muscle-bound guards who might have been human. I wasn’t sure, and given the dour looks on their faces, I wasn’t going to inquire. I had never seen Elves look quite so buff. Their guns could put Jason Momoa to shame, and their shoulders were almost as broad as the doorframe. Their long golden hair was caught back in braids, and their eyes were the clearest blue I had ever seen, except for Herne’s.
I retreated to Angel’s desk, where she and Talia were ogling the men. “It looks like Cernunnos isn’t joking around. He’s not going to put up with any backtalk from Saílle or Névé.”
Angel was practically drooling. “I love Rafé, I love Rafé,” she muttered. “But, oh man, those pecs…”
“And biceps,” Talia added.
“Don’t forget the thigh muscles. Which fill out those… Are they wearing leather pants?” I licked my lips. I had a thing for men in leather and it suited them so very well.
“Yeah, leather,” Talia said.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d be more discreet about drooling over my father’s elite guards. Especially you, love, given you’re taken.” Herne interrupted our gawking, slipping his arm around my waist. He leaned in, nudging my ear with his nose. “I’ll make you forget all about them tonight,” he whispered.
I caught my breath as he kissed my neck, his hand sliding down to cup my ass. “I’m holding you to that,” I muttered.
“Deal.” He let go then, and headed over to where the guards were milling.
Viktor joined him, while Yutani wandered over to stand beside me.
“All right, it’s going to take awhile to get there. So let’s go.” Herne glanced back at us. “Hold down the fort. We’ll be back before closing.” The elevator closed behind them, and I sighed, shaking my head to clear my thoughts.
Yutani tapped me on the shoulder. “I want your opinion on something regarding Mendin’s case.”
“All right, do I need to come to your office?”
He shook his head. “No, I’ll email you the picture.”
Sighing, I turned back to Angel and Talia. “So much for the show.” But secretly, I couldn’t help but think that—regardless of how good those men looked—they couldn’t beat Herne in bed. There weren’t many mortals, even among the long-lived, who could upstage a god. At least, not my god.
Back in my office, I pulled up the email that Yutani had sent. He peeked around the door. “Did you get it?”
“Yeah, just. Come on in.” I motioned for him to sit down and he slid into the chair, leaning back as he propped one foot on the edge of the seat and wrapped his arms around his knee. Yutani was flexible, I’d give him that. “What am I looking for?” I opened the attachment. It was a picture of Mendin’s coffee table, complete with blood spatters. “Ugh.”
“Take a look on the left side of the table. There’s an ashtray there. Apparently he smoked. But look near the ashtray. To one side. You might need to enlarge the photo.”
I pulled the image up on my Photo-Paint program and zoomed in. Bingo. I saw what he was talking about. A matchbook sat there, and I could read its cover.
“Fire & Fang? What’s that?” The words were printed across the cover, along with a bleeding heart with a dagger sticking through it.