stop him, glancing pointedly at the balcony doors to his back, before carrying on a feigned conversation. “That will work perfectly, Wesley. And thank you for the prompt delivery of these phones. Oh, Ellin.” I glanced at her before a cursory nod at Wesley to dismiss him, and though he managed to school his features, his eyes betrayed an eternal gratefulness for the escape.
Ellin handed me a folder. “Mr. Archer,” she said in greeting, exhibiting the flawless business manner Brendan expected of all his staff. “If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”
“This is sufficient for now, Ellin. Thank you.” I slipped the folder under my arm. “But could you have something sent up for Brianna?” She waited. “Hot tea, I think.”
Ellin nodded, barely able to maintain her impassive façade at the reference. I winked, certain the whole house was whispering about the state the prophecy girl had their stalwart leader in, and Ellin quickly spun to go. It felt odd to be anything but serious in a moment like this, but it seemed to happen of its own accord these days. I guessed my training was kicking in. If there was anything my father had taught me, it was to be calm in the face of disaster. Excitement spread like fire, and in the end someone always got burned.
Ellin had closed the balcony doors behind her, but both of us knew I didn’t have any real privacy. Not that it mattered; if my suspicions were correct, there would be no need of it. I pocketed one of the phones, flipped the other open.
When I dialed Avery, I had some hope. But there was nothing, not so much as a “this line has been disconnected” message on the other end. By the time I tried Nathan, I knew I wouldn’t be able to reach any of them. Morgan had managed to cut me off from all of those loyal to Council traditions, all those who might have been a help. I snapped the card from the back of the disposable phone and tossed it.
I leaned against the rail to page through the reports Ellin had given me. As I read the final page, I sighed. From the looks of things, the flicker of unrest was the least of our problems. We were about to walk into the flames of hell.
Chapter Seventeen
Irresistible Forces
As I walked through the halls, I overheard several small arguments and agitated conversations regarding what was to be done about Morgan and the Council. Apparently the meeting had broken up, and Brendan hadn’t been able to satisfy his followers with whatever mode of action, or inaction, he’d decided on. I hoped none of them were brave enough to attempt it on their own, and then internally flinched at the idea of my own intentions. Two days, and I still didn’t have a plan.
I knew I could get close to Morgan, there was no question of that. He would put on a show for what was left of Council, place his arrogant younger brother on display while he spouted quotes like “see how the mighty have fallen.” But Morgan had never truly underestimated me. In all the years he treated me as his subordinate, he’d never trusted that I was. He simply wanted to keep me in check, keep up the pretense and watch my every move. I tried not to think of what he might have done to the others. If he could bring a man to stab himself in the heart over a disagreement, he would surely have acted against those who’d openly supported me, those who had wanted me to take his place.
I turned the corner to the hall our rooms were on and froze.
Emily stood in the center of the corridor, staring up at Eric. The moment lasted an eternity, my chest tight as I took in the scene. Eric, of the Division, never a member of Council and never trusted, was inches from Emily, his hand resting on her arm—the hand that he needed to work his sway, the hand he’d used to manipulate human women, the hand that could tear her mind apart.
My muscles unfroze and I was running for him before my mind could process anything further. He was touching her. He was touching Emily.
He only had time to turn his head before I slammed into him. The two of us landed several feet from where he’d stood, and I had his head in a lock