Page 29 of Haunted Nightmares
“Apology not accepted but can we get on with why I called you?” Pausing briefly, I reposition my phone and watch as Iris and Nate stop, the female switching out the wadded up bloody napkins in his mouth for fresh ones.
“Yeah,” he grunts. “Must be good if you actually called me.”
Rolling my eyes, I shift back and forth from one foot to the other, a feeling that could be described as anxious growing in my gut the longer I follow these two. “I believe —“
“Hey, wait. Don’t you want an update?”
I nod my head with an annoyed huff. “Go ahead then.”
“The treaty we lifted from Deveroux’s vault is, in fact the original Atticus signed just after the war.” I hear the shuffling of papers as Orion pauses for longer than my patience can stand before he starts up again. “We’ve been comparing it side by side with the one on display at the Hall and the new one the president gave you. The one with his updates.”
“And?” I’m not entirely sure why he feels the need to build the suspense, that’s exactly why I sent my team into that gaudy house while I met with the gremlin of a man. I wanted the original document and this was the first time I’d be able to justify so many of my kind in such a place of importance, therefore explaining away the majority of questions that could be asked.
We needed to see what kinds of changes had been made, what kinds of liberties my late sire and the previous human rulers had taken and what they left out in order to keep us under their thumb for so long.
And I wanted to see what benefits Atticus wrote in for himself, the bastard.
Orion interrupts himself by clearing his throat before saying, “There are chunks of all three in another language.”
“What language? Can no one interpret it?”
“Uh… not really? Lydia has been working on it but?—“
“I’ll have a littlelook-seewhen I get back,” I grunt while I keep a close watch on Iris and her daft companion. “If none of you recognize it then there’s a good chance it’s in one of the dead languages.”Or possibly the language of the gods.Which would be a real mindfuck since I’ve not set eyes on it since I was a lad forced to learn it. Kadoc was fluent and taught my sire to be as well but Atticus shoved it down my throat, then grew leery of continuing my learning when I picked it up as easily as my native tongue.
Didn’t want me going around ruining his plans, I suspect.
“Lydia is staying on it but what she’s been able to read so far shows some vast differences in all three versions.”
Shocker. “Not surprising. All parties involved in creating them were corrupt at best, I expected nothing less. You were able to have them place the decoy appropriately?”
“Yeah,” Orion says. “That was pretty easy, the hard part was making sure the original didn’t fall apart before we got it back here.”
“Good. Can Inowshare my purpose for calling you and initiating this awful conversation?”
“Sure.” He chuckles down the line. Right before he starts choking on nothing when I blurt, “I think she’s a witch.”
“Who?”
“Iris.”
“Who’s Iris?” Orion asks with a rather annoyed tone.
One I mirror when I respond, “The blonde. The one you just accused me of wanting to fornicate with.”
“You think she’s a… a witch?” The skepticism in his tone isn’t lost on me but he tries to rebound quickly. “But witches were?—“
“Iknow,you twit, but I’ve no other explanation for what I’ve seen.”
Another long pause has me starting to pace, my gaze locked on the couple now arguing below me.
I can’t hear them because I’m choosing not to, because I don’t want to even though his rebuttals would surely be entertaining with a broken jaw and missing fang. But none of their words hold any importance to me unless it pertains directly to what the female is and after the lies she told me I doubt she’d spill any of that on the street with any old arsehole lurking around.
Namely, me.
And though I don’t wish to admit it, listening to them have some sort ofsoon to bemated couple spatwill push me right over the edge of this building to finish the work I started on Nate the douche canoe at the bar. Primarily because he gets right under my goddamn skin with his shite attitude and averagely good looking face.
Which feels a touch like jealousy but I don’t think that’s what it is.
