Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
My brother and cousin were already inside. As were my father, uncle, and two of my respective Tenebrarius. Rarely was I the last to arrive. I almost checked the time again to make sure I wasn’t late, but I knew that couldn’t be possible. It was them who had shown up early.
The disciple who delivered our morning coffee bowed her head to me as she exited the room and pulled the door closed, giving us our privacy.
“How are you?” my father inquired, pulling a small flask from his inner suit pocket.
“Never better.” I sat my briefcase down and took a seat at the head of the large oval table, directly across from him.
“And how is our girl?”
“So far, she’s handling this rather well.”
He nodded and poured a shot of whiskey into his coffee. It was the sign I needed to know that his mind was in a strategic tailspin. Otherwise, he’d have no issues saying exactly what he was thinking. It didn’t matter how it might be received.
I’d been told countless times that I’d inherited his same scalding degree of bluntness, among other traits. As far as appearances went, I could almost be his doppelganger. The color of my eyes is what truly set us apart. I’d gotten little from my dear mother, whereas Emilio strongly favored her.
I turned my attention to Phoenix and Osiris, the two men I trusted the most outside of my blood. I’d talk to Father later when we wouldn’t have an audience.
“How did your Electi settle?”
“It was a long night,” Osiris confessed, reaching for his cup of coffee.
“I didn’t think it was too bad,” Phoenix countered amicably. “I’m more inclined to see how tonight goes, since she’s awake now.”
I shared his thoughts on that, but Osiris’ Electi had woken during the ferry trip to the Isle and nearly thrown herself overboard. Of course, his morning had gone much differently from ours. Lolita could very well have a delayed reaction to her acquisition once she had more time to process everything. Right now, she would be disoriented, no doubt frightened, but I was prepared to deal with her however her mood swung.
My uncle Corbin flipped open the folder in front of him and began to tap away on his tablet, until a spreadsheet was mirrored on the large projector that hung on the back wall. All conversation of the prior evening was put on hold, and we transitioned into the first priority for today’s meeting.
I accepted the small glass of bourbon my father offered to me and settled into the leather chair across from his desk. My brother had left already for the day to handle a few additional tasks for me, so I wasn’t out all night. The sun had already begun to set. It would be completely dark by the time I arrived back home.
“Are you going to tell me what you were thinking about so deeply earlier?”
He looked away from his phone with a grin. “I sometimes forget how perceptive you are.”
“Largely due to you.”
“As much as I would like to give your mother credit, I have to agree.”
“How is she doing?” I asked, taking a sip of my drink.
“That’s what I was thinking about, partially.”
“When do you plan to tell her?”
“You just did it again.” He laughed and sat his glass down. “I’m telling her tomorrow. You and your brother will want to stay away from the house for the next few days. When Esther isn’t assisting you, she’ll be at your Aunt Gwyneth’s.”
I nodded once in understanding. “Do you think she think she’ll handle it that badly?”
“It’s reopening old wounds, but she knew this day would come eventually. Lolita belongs here; she always has. I’m more concerned with how she’ll handle the Rite ceremony.”
That made sense.
My mother had seen and participated in more than a few ceremonies when my father was acting Diabolus, but those were different. They weren’t for women she grieved or cared for.
“Maybe some of the things you had me acquire at the trade show will help smooth things over.”
“Why do you think I was so selective?”
I laughed. “I’ll keep Lolita away until we’re ready for them to meet.”
“I’ll find my way to her before then,” he replied, adding, “And then you and I are going to talk about how you’re doing with everything.”
I accepted that without complaint.
My father had such a relationship with me and my siblings that discussing our mental health had always been a positive thing. He knew it was important for our heads to be clear.
We spoke about a few trivial matters as I finished my drink. Occasionally I pulled up the camera feed, always seeing Lolita in the same exact spot, sometimes in a different position. I didn’t like the forlorn expression that came and went from her face.
I needed to go to her.