An imaginary one this time, I suspected, because I certainly wasn’t seeing anything on her pants.
Again that ghostly smile crossed her pale lips before she added, "But I am not here to discuss your mother."
I leaned back against the desk, my stance casual even though both of us knew that was far from the truth. "I never thought you were."
She nodded and leaned back in her chair. "We have a problem."
"We as in the Directorate, or the council?"
"The council, of course. You will never be on the Directorate’s books."
"Odd, given that the Directorate approached me several years ago about becoming a guardian."
"Yes, but my brother has since been informed of my plans for you."
Meaning he’d made the approach without her approval? Somehow I doubted that. I knew enough about Jack and the guardian pision to know that while he might have autonomy over the day-to-day running of the pision, there weren’t many decisions that didn’t go through Hunter first.
"And just what, exactly, are your plans for me?"
She made a casual movement with her hand. "Nothing more than what you’ve already agreed to."
What I’d agreed to was being a consultant to the council, but her statement had sounded a whole lot more comprehensive.
"Besides," she added, "I believe you have an aunt and uncle who would strenuously object to you becoming a guardian. And right now, the Directorate can’t afford to lose either of them."
Riley and Rhoan would do more than object—they’d lock me in a small room and throw away the key. And then they’d storm Hunter’s citadel and demand my release from Directorate duty.
Thankfully, they had no idea I’d agreed to work for someone even more dangerous than the Directorate, and I fully intended to keep it that way. Right now I didn’t need any more grief in my life.