mated.”
“I won’t let her be harmed.”
“Has he attacked you or your woman directly?”
Dylan’s back stiffened. “No.”
“Then how are you certain his children aren’t taking matters into their own hands? The newly reborn are often over-zealous in their devotion,” he said, his chiding words reminding Dylan of an episode in his own “apprenticeship”.
An episode Dylan would sooner forget. It was another stain on his soul. “They’re not acting on impulse. They’re acting on orders.”
Navarro raised a single brow.
“I know it to be true.” Dylan’s chest expanded with anger.
“I will not go to the council without proof. We are after all talking about sanctioning the death of one of our own.”
Dylan had come on a fool’s errand. There would be no support from the council. “I won’t wait for her to die to give you your proof.”
“Which is why we permit the extinction of newborns without consequence to the Master responsible.” Navarro pinned him with stare. “You’ve been busy lately, amassing your own statistics.”
Rankled his dustings had been questioned, Dylan replied, “Every killing was needed. Newborns can’t turn a human until they’ve learned to rein in their lust.”
The older Master waved his hand. “We are not concerned with your nightly patrols. I have every confidence your purges have been warranted.”
Fighting his rising frustration, Dylan gripped the arms of his chair. “Can we come back to the issue of Nicky’s activities?”
“We will not interfere with your right to protect your possession.”
Dylan relaxed. He had permission to kill Nicky himself.
Chapter Ten
To his disappointment, Emmy wasn’t asleep when he returned. Instead, Dylan followed the sound of muffled laughter to the kitchen. Quentin and Emmy were inside, seated at the table.
She was dressed in his robe, the dark blue a foil for her rosy cheeks and sunshine-colored hair. Her gaze swung to the door and her eyes lit up like Christmas lights when she saw Dylan. His heart swelled in his chest—grateful he could produce such a look of joy.
Quentin raised a slice of pizza, loaded with pepperoni and sausage from the savory aroma, and waved it at Dylan. “Join us. Emmy was just telling me she has a distinct preference for organ meats.”
Dylan’s gaze narrowed as he stared at the gap at the top of his robe. It exposed more cleavage than he wanted to share, even with his best friend. “Only mine, I hope.”
“That’s not what I said.” Emmy blushed scarlet. “And for your information, Dylan, that wasn’t what we were discussing.”
“Better not be,” he growled, feeling grumpy. How many ways could he say ‘get lost’ to his buddy? Dylan strode past the counter littered with open pizza boxes to the table, and hooked his foot around the leg of chair, pulling it close to Emmy. He straddled it backwards.
“Didn’t go well, hmmm?” Quentin asked.
Dylan’s gaze didn’t leave Emmys’ face. “About what we thought.”
“Damn. We’re on our own then.”
Emmy took a bite of pizza and darted a glance at Dylan. “Do I have tomato sauce on my nose?”
“No, love. And it’s not your fight, Quentin.”
“And leave me out of the party?” Quentin drawled. “This little intrigue is more fun than I’ve had in a long time.”
Emmy set her pizza on her plate. “Okay, I’m just a little bit tired of being left out of the conversation, when I feel like I am the topic of the conversation.”
Gratified he’d brought her temper to peak, if not her body, Dylan clutched the back of her head and brought her forward for a kiss.
She shoved at his chest. “I have pizza breath,” she warned.
“My favorite.”
“Thought it was whiskey and woman,” she murmured, her eyes drifting closed.
“It was.” He kissed her full on the lips. He hoped Quentin took notes.
Emmy pushed him away. “You changed the subject. I hate when you do that.”
“Because it’s so easy to do?”
“I won’t let her be harmed.”
“Has he attacked you or your woman directly?”
Dylan’s back stiffened. “No.”
“Then how are you certain his children aren’t taking matters into their own hands? The newly reborn are often over-zealous in their devotion,” he said, his chiding words reminding Dylan of an episode in his own “apprenticeship”.
An episode Dylan would sooner forget. It was another stain on his soul. “They’re not acting on impulse. They’re acting on orders.”
Navarro raised a single brow.
“I know it to be true.” Dylan’s chest expanded with anger.
“I will not go to the council without proof. We are after all talking about sanctioning the death of one of our own.”
Dylan had come on a fool’s errand. There would be no support from the council. “I won’t wait for her to die to give you your proof.”
“Which is why we permit the extinction of newborns without consequence to the Master responsible.” Navarro pinned him with stare. “You’ve been busy lately, amassing your own statistics.”
Rankled his dustings had been questioned, Dylan replied, “Every killing was needed. Newborns can’t turn a human until they’ve learned to rein in their lust.”
The older Master waved his hand. “We are not concerned with your nightly patrols. I have every confidence your purges have been warranted.”
Fighting his rising frustration, Dylan gripped the arms of his chair. “Can we come back to the issue of Nicky’s activities?”
“We will not interfere with your right to protect your possession.”
Dylan relaxed. He had permission to kill Nicky himself.
Chapter Ten
To his disappointment, Emmy wasn’t asleep when he returned. Instead, Dylan followed the sound of muffled laughter to the kitchen. Quentin and Emmy were inside, seated at the table.
She was dressed in his robe, the dark blue a foil for her rosy cheeks and sunshine-colored hair. Her gaze swung to the door and her eyes lit up like Christmas lights when she saw Dylan. His heart swelled in his chest—grateful he could produce such a look of joy.
Quentin raised a slice of pizza, loaded with pepperoni and sausage from the savory aroma, and waved it at Dylan. “Join us. Emmy was just telling me she has a distinct preference for organ meats.”
Dylan’s gaze narrowed as he stared at the gap at the top of his robe. It exposed more cleavage than he wanted to share, even with his best friend. “Only mine, I hope.”
“That’s not what I said.” Emmy blushed scarlet. “And for your information, Dylan, that wasn’t what we were discussing.”
“Better not be,” he growled, feeling grumpy. How many ways could he say ‘get lost’ to his buddy? Dylan strode past the counter littered with open pizza boxes to the table, and hooked his foot around the leg of chair, pulling it close to Emmy. He straddled it backwards.
“Didn’t go well, hmmm?” Quentin asked.
Dylan’s gaze didn’t leave Emmys’ face. “About what we thought.”
“Damn. We’re on our own then.”
Emmy took a bite of pizza and darted a glance at Dylan. “Do I have tomato sauce on my nose?”
“No, love. And it’s not your fight, Quentin.”
“And leave me out of the party?” Quentin drawled. “This little intrigue is more fun than I’ve had in a long time.”
Emmy set her pizza on her plate. “Okay, I’m just a little bit tired of being left out of the conversation, when I feel like I am the topic of the conversation.”
Gratified he’d brought her temper to peak, if not her body, Dylan clutched the back of her head and brought her forward for a kiss.
She shoved at his chest. “I have pizza breath,” she warned.
“My favorite.”
“Thought it was whiskey and woman,” she murmured, her eyes drifting closed.
“It was.” He kissed her full on the lips. He hoped Quentin took notes.
Emmy pushed him away. “You changed the subject. I hate when you do that.”
“Because it’s so easy to do?”
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