real.
Chapter Twelve
Reunions
The ride to the estate was brief, and Emily sat eagerly beside me peering out the tinted glass. When the driver slowed to turn into a security gate, she squeezed the crook of my arm. It wasn’t until we’d passed through and began to spot the gardens and outbuildings that I realized she wasn’t letting go.
It was hard not to be impressed by the white, marble-columned mansion, somehow both stately and modern at once. The design was timeless, materials priceless, and Emily barely seemed to notice. A security guard opened the door as we came to a stop, and Emily climbed over me to push by him.
As soon as her feet hit the pavement, she was running for the house. She didn’t even notice the red Ferrari on her way past, or the four guards in Armani suits placed outside the main door. But it didn’t matter, because as soon as she’d reached the top step, Brianna came running toward her.
They hit with a practiced familiarity, and held each other for several long breaths before Emily’s hands moved to grab Brianna’s shoulders and push her back, just far enough to glare at her. I’d made it within earshot when Brianna whispered, “It was the only way.”
I could see the tension slowly leave Emily’s shoulders. And then Brianna reached a hand up to cup her sister’s cheek. “Em, you slept.” Emily eased out of the embrace a little more and Brianna laughed. “And what are you wearing?”
Emily glared at her. “I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare.”
Brianna smiled sweetly. “You know I have some things for you.”
“You always do,” Emily said, sliding free of the hug to finally take in her surroundings.
From the open door, Brendan smiled past the reunion to me. “Good to have you back, brother. We weren’t sure a time or two.” Emily stiffened at the remark, but it was only a meaningless word, meant to secure our bond, and no doubt a surreptitious jab at Morgan.
I nodded toward him in acknowledgement, but before I could respond, Brianna was rushing me.
“Aern,” she gushed. “Thank you for keeping her safe.” I smiled, but Brianna had gripped my arms while speaking, and she noticed the partially healed cuts marking them. She said, “Oh, Aern, you’re hurt.”
Emily had the decency to look chagrined, but when I smiled at her, she narrowed her eyes, daring me to tell.
“It’s nothing,” I told Brianna.
She ran her hands over my arms, and I wondered at how thin and pale she seemed. It might have just been that I’d gotten used to Emily, that her vitality had exaggerated the difference between the two, but I couldn’t remember thinking Brianna had looked anything but slim before.
Brendan cleared his throat. “Maybe we should continue this reunion inside.”
Brianna rolled her eyes and smiled at me before turning to face him. “They’ll need some food and hot tea. I’ll take Emily up for a bath, you should have hers served to my room. Something light, I’m sure they’ve had a rough morning.”
Brendan’s mouth tightened, but he bent his head in acquiescence.
As the girls walked through the door, his eyes narrowed at my silent laughter. I shook my head. “I take it she’s figured out she’s useful to you.”
“No thanks to you, I’m sure,” he muttered.
I scratched my stomach. “Fetch my tea, Brendan. I’ll be in the bath.” His elbow caught me in the ribcage as we crossed the threshold and I couldn’t help but laugh.
Emily glanced over her shoulder at the noise, and our eyes stayed locked as she climbed the last few stairs on Brianna’s arm. I sighed. It was probably the last time I’d see that gold silk jacket.
Chapter Thirteen
Healing
The Division had set up a suite of rooms for me at three of their most frequented houses. This one however, was the smallest and safest, and as such not normally filled with eight of their top men. Brendan had offered me a better room, but I’d chosen an empty one close to Brianna and Emily.
Not that it was lacking. A king-size bed lay centered among a space twice the size of our last hotel room, all cream and black, clean and classic. The walls were bare aside from a small metal sculpture between the walk-in closet and the private bath. I kicked off my shoes at the end of the bed and walked over plush cream carpet to the bathroom, which could be called nothing but opulent. No doubt the stone was imported and hand-carved,