Page 145 of The Light Within

“Have you thought any more about our conversation on Monday, Julien?”

Lucien’s death had caused Julien a problem, which he’d spent most evenings that week mulling over with Cinn.

Carrie had fled Paris, with the gendarmerie yet to locate her. This left Julien, who’d inherited a fifty percent share in HorizonTech, as the unexpected and reluctant heir to his father’s empire. The board was already circling like vultures, eager to secure their influence or seize control of the company in the power vacuum that remained.

For Julien, the idea of running HorizonTech was almost laughable. The thought of stepping into Lucien’s shoes, of managing the web of corruption and motetech secrets his father had spun, filled him with a dread that had almost reduced him to another breakdown, before Cinn had swept in to talk him down off the ledge.

Ultimately, Julien could either manage the company himself, or risk it falling into nefarious hands again.

“My decision still stands. I want to turn it into a cooperative. And allow the smaller companies to buy out of the HorizonTech umbrella, if they wish to.”

Eleanor nodded once—she’d clearly expected this. “I’ll help you sort the paperwork.”

“Any further news?” Darcy asked, face set in a tense mask. Her dad’s health remained on a downhill slope, and she spent most of her spare time on the phone to Scotland, demanding updates.

“I was just getting to that.” Eleanor smoothed down her jacket, inhaling a deep breath in through her nostrils. “You’ll be pleased to hear that until MEET determines a safe way to generate enough power to mass produce motecells on the scale Lucien did—if a safe way even exists—theconsortium has agreed to prioritise distribution to the medical sector above all else.”

“What about—”

“I spoke to someone this morning, and they’re confident your parent’s pacemaker will be approved for trial any day now.”

“Thank you.” Darcy dropped her gaze, fiddling with the hem of the blanket.

Eleanor shrugged. “I’ve barely done anything.” As she turned to continue on her way, she paused to throw a line over her shoulder: “Oh, Cinn, Noir and I have agreed you’re free to go back to London now, if you wish to. Just keep your warding band on and you’re good to go.”

Cinn’s head shot straight to Julien, catching the tail end of a look of panic he quickly schooled. With a quick kick of Julien’s leg, he said, “Don’t be daft. You know I’m not going anywhere. Anyway, we’re adopting that black cat from the shelter next week. It would be a pretty dick move to leave you with sole custody of her.”

A scowl ruined Julien’s beautiful face. “I didnotagree to that cat and you know it. You told me we were going to look at coffee machines!”

“You’ll come around.” Cinn fluttered his eyelashes at Julien until his scowl deepened, and Cinn burst out laughing.

Elliot jumped to his feet, taking the last cookie with him. “I’m going to be late.”

“Since when did you care about that?” asked Darcy. “Where are you going?”

“I’m meeting… someone.”

Cinn almost spat his coffee out at the look on Elliot’s face.

“Really? The same someone you met yesterday, and the day before that?” Darcy asked innocently.

“He could simply come sit with us, you know,” Julien said. “I’ll be nice, I promise.”

Elliot raised his middle finger at Julien before setting off down a path, checking his wristwatch before increasing his pace.

“Never thought I’d see the day.” Darcy scooped her bag off the grass. “I’m just returning some books to the library. I’ll be back in a bit.”

The second they were alone, Julien pounced on Cinn. “Well? Did you get it?”

Cinn leaned back on the blanket and propped his head on one arm. “Get what? You’re going to need to be more specific.”

Julien lunged for him.

“Hey! Watch out! Get your paws off me.” Cinn raised an arm to shield Julien’s impatient fingers, which were trying to pull up his hoodie. “Hold on.” He carefully lifted his jumper up to show Julien the patch of skin currently under cling film.

On the left side of his chest, above his heart, lay Cinn’s new ink—black line art, an exact replica of the moon and stars engraved in Julien’s locket. Except, Cinn’s version had the word ‘destiny’ in fancy calligraphy written above it, the letters weaving into the stars.

“The tattoo artist copied your drawing exactly.”

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