Blood Promise (A SkinWalker Novel #4) (A DarkWorld SkinWalker Novel) (6 page)

I hiked my eyebrows. "I thought you guys played by Sentinel's rules?" I just couldn't picture Spy-Man-Paulson doing something nice. Or even something for someone other than himself.

She shook her head, her blonde hair glinting as it danced around her shoulders. "We do. For the most part. But Sentinel doesn't insist we do things that are wrong, illegal, or against our moral code. If you were on the payroll you would have still been able to make that final choice to save Baz."

"Really?"

"Really."

This was sounding a heckuva lot better than Omega, especially since I was still reeling from the discovery of their underground facility. How could I possibly come to terms with the knowledge that Omega had been holding and experimenting on my mom?

"Do you have any information on their facility?" I asked her.

"Irreparably linked to Omega," she said. "They're dicking us around right now, but the Grande High Council wants to get to the bottom of it. Omega is guilty. Once the charges are formalized the whole organization is in trouble."

I thought of Logan, of Saleem, and my stomach tightened, the buttered bread forgotten. "Not all their agents are guilty of wrongdoing."

Cassie nodded. "The High Council knows that. They aren't just going to arbitrarily label people as guilty. They would first require proof. And as for the teams on the ground, they're just the worker bees. The council wants the queens."

The kettle whistled. I switched it off barely registering the noise. My mind remained fixed on my two friends who'd get vaporized when the whole Omega thing blew.

I sighed. "Who knows what else they've been doing that they're currently scrambling to sweep under the floorboards."

"You have no idea what Omega is suspected of," Cassie said sadly. "The list of offenses is longer than my arm."

"Then find the evidence and make it stick," I said. "To the guilty. Just be careful how you do it, Cassie. Too many innocent people are likely to get hurt."

She got to her feet and reached for her bag. "I can vouch for Sentinel. Their heart's in the right place. And you should trust them. I do."

"So . . . you think I should say yes?"

"Of course." She winked. "Join the family business."
 

I nodded wondering if Mom would consider rejoining her old team. It would make sense if they were offering her her old job back--especially after what she'd been through. If I were in her place I'd be champing at the bit to slide a knife across Omega's collective jugular right now.

"Right," she said. "That's me. Now I've really got to get my arse moving." She sketched a salute as Larsson appeared. This time he smiled before they faded into nothing.

I stared at the empty air, hoping at least some part of my heart would tell me what to do.
 

I wasn't stupid. I knew I'd refused Sentinel because it wasn't Omega. Omega meant Logan, and any other choice would have conflicted with our relationship no matter how either of us tried to avoid it.
 

But Sentinel and my family had a long history, so joining their ranks would mean I'd be following in my family's footsteps.

I shook my head and reached for the can of English Breakfast tea leaves. No. Omega was under investigation. Sentinel was doing the investigating. Now wasn't the time to take a position with Sentinel. The last thing I needed was to be tasked with tossing Logan and his friend out on their butts.

The Elite Corps was looking better every day.

I grinned as I spooned tea into the teapot and covered it with boiling water.

Butts or arses, everyone's behinds were on the line.

I'
D
JUST
PLACED
THE
TEACUPS
on the dining table when Grams exited the bedroom, her pale skin pink from the heat of the shower and her white blonde hair curling at her temples. The fact she was wearing her gray sweatpants and hoodie was a comfort. It meant she was home for the evening.

"Kailin, dear." She reached out and pulled me close and into a tight squeeze. Grams was a hugger and I didn't mind at all. "You look tired," she said against my cheek.

I nodded as I disengaged from her arms and reached for the bread and cheese. Setting the plate on the table, I made a face. "Sorry. I didn't have anything else in the fridge for dinner. Been in Scotland."

Grams laughed, her face brightening as she shook her head at me. "You forget, I have my spies."

I snorted and pushed the sugar bowl toward her. "Of course, you do."

"Was that Cassandra?" she asked as I handed her a spoon.

"Perceptive of you."

"She has a particular way of forming her vowels and consonants."
 

Yeah, that and the fact that Gram's panther nose worked just as well as mine.

I rolled my eyes. "Gee, Grams. Speak straight. I'm not old enough for old-people-speak."

"Watch it, young lady," She gave me a mock glare and then lifted her cup to blow lightly on the steaming surface. She took a sip. "This is good. Hits the spot."

It certainly did. I drank deeply, enjoying the sweet warmth as it slid down my throat. All that time in England and not a drop of tea to drink.

Then again, was Scotland part of England?

I frowned, then sat back noticing that my fingers were still gritty with vamp residue. "I need to be clean. Demon blood gets into all the wrong cracks and crevices."

I felt a little guilty gulping down the food, but the longer I sat there the more time I spent wondering if I was giving off any kind of demon stink.

When Grams sniffed the air and twitched her nose, I grunted, swallowed the last of my tea in one long gulp and stalked off to my room.

Her snickering followed me all the way into my bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later I padded out of the bathroom in bare feet. I was clean. My hair was clean. I was wearing my 'at home relaxing' sweatpants and hoodie. Could the night get any better?

I looked up and stopped in my tracks. No. But apparently the night could get worse.

Gram was busy running a pale pink lipstick over her lips as she peered into the mirror we'd hung on the wall behind our front door. No longer in her comfortable clothes, she was dressed in a dark green skirt suit. A pair of black heels sat neatly beside the door.

"What . . ." I trailed off as Corin Odel, dressed in a dark gray suit, rose from the sofa with an equally dark look on his face.

"It wasn't me, Dad."

The words fell out of my mouth, but when a smile broke through the shadows in my father's eyes I was glad of my inability to hold my tongue.

I went to him, received his hug, gave him mine. "What's wrong?"

"Get dressed."

Not a night at home then. "Don't tell me . . . High Council meeting."

"I raised a smart girl," he murmured as his phone beeped. "So proud."
 

That earned him one of my dark glares but as he was busy swiping his screen and answering his phone it was totally wasted.
 

I spun on my heel and headed back to my room to change. A few minutes later I returned wearing a deep burgundy skirt suit, carrying black pumps in one hand and running the fingers of my free hand through the mess that was my hair.

As black as Mom's, it was as unruly as hers if I didn't blow dry it into some semblance of decency first. Having left it to dry while I'd dressed, it now stuck out like a mane around my face as though I were more lion than panther.

When I reached the table I held onto the edge for balance as I slipped my shoes on. Then I bent and grabbed my satchel.

"You are not taking that old thing to a meeting of the High Council," Grams said in a voice of ice and iron.

I rolled my eyes. "Of
course
not Grandmother. I'm just about to get my
purse
."
 

Total lie.

"Good save," Dad murmured from the sofa.

"You're not helping," I snapped and returned to my room for a more acceptable carrier-of-useless-stuff.

There was no time to fix my hair. The High Council wouldn't care anyway. I grabbed my purse and headed for the door.
 

I
DON
'
T
KNOW
WHICH
UNSETTLED
me more--attending a High Council meeting, or actually setting foot in Justin Lake's home again. Memories of the last time I'd been in the place gave me the shivers. The word 'tense' didn't come close to describing it.
 

Tonight, however, Justin, the blond Cougar Alpha, who also happened to be both Iain's brother-in-law, and my teenage crush, was too busy herding people around, and met my gaze for only a few seconds as Grams and I entered the room. He didn't need more time though. His golden eyes bore into mine and conveyed a thesaurus of emotions. None of them meant 'happy'.

I sucked in a breath and sent him a short smile, trying not to remember his kiss, or his marriage proposal. He acknowledged my greeting with a nod of his blond head, then hurried over to my father who was standing stony-faced beside my brother Iain. They were an impressive pair, all wide shoulders, and white blond hair. Justin murmured something in Dad's ear. A moment later both Dad and Justin had disappeared into the crowd while Iain took a seat at the back.
 

Tonight was certainly different from the last meeting. Instead of a small number of Alphas, today the room overflowed with spouses and the immediate families of Alphas from all over the North American continent.
 

As chivalry hadn't yet died for the walker male only the females occupied the available seating. Members of the High Council were the exception. They'd sit at the head table at the front of the room. Those called on council business would take seats at a smaller table at the side.
 

At the moment both tables were empty, but places against the walls were filling up as the non-councilmen arranged themselves for the best view of the proceedings.
 

Well, the non-councilmen and me.
 

Ignoring Grams' hesitation I put a hand to her shoulder and gently pressed her down into the last available chair. She patted my fingers before I let go.