Page 22 of Shadow Weaver
“Brady is,” Lloyd said. “I need to get back tonight.”
“Twin room there,” Brady said, jerking his thumb toward a door to our left.
Harmon and Thomas hoisted their packs and headed toward it.
“And me?” I raised both brows.
“The top bunk is free in my room,” Brady said gruffly. “Don’t snore.” He clomped off toward the kitchen area and the coffee machine.
Lloyd stared after him open-mouthed.
I nudged him. “What?”
He shook his head slowly and then looked at me searchingly. “Nothing.” He cleared his throat. “Dump your bags, and we’ll take you to the dining hall.”
Walking into Brady’s room was like hugging him. Not that I’d ever done that, but it smelled of his signature cedar aroma. A calming aroma that seemed to work on me every time he was around. He was gruff and could be short-tempered, and if you’d told me eight weeks ago that he’d be my go-to troop member, I’d have laughed in your face. But the solitude of his company was addictive, especially when my mind was teeming with questions and possibilities and things, so many things I needed to learn and do.
“Okay?”
I turned to see him standing in the doorway of the room. He filled it with the width of his shoulders.
I dumped my pack on the dresser. “Fine.” I shot him a smile. “Thanks for letting me bunk in here.”
He shrugged and then tucked in his chin. “Other rooms are taken.” He took a step toward me and then shook his head as if to dispel a thought before ducking out of the room.
Weird.
I unzipped my bag and pulled out my clothes. Time to unpack and change out of the armor.
* * *
This was the great hall?This vast chamber with vaulted ceilings, a cavernous roaring fireplace at each end, and three tables large enough to seat a small army? Right now, only one table was occupied with a mixture of older guys and younger second-year cadets. Tapestries hung on the wall. Old-style armor stood in slender alcoves—the perfect knightly decoration. All that was missing was a throne and maybe a king. Except, wait, who was the broad man with a heavy beard and deep-set eyes glaring across the room at us as if we were cockroaches scuttling in from the cold?
“Shadow master,” Lloyd said from the corner of his mouth. “Master Henrich.”
So, this was the big guy, the head honcho, the main man. He looked fierce. Angry. And it was all aimed at us.
Lloyd led us to the bottom of the table, and we slipped into seats. Mal and Gimble were already here; they looked nervous as hell, and were keeping their heads down. Mal had a plate of what looked like raw vegetables in front of him. Gimble was spooning something like stew into his mouth, way too fast.
Brady took the seat next to me and placed a plate in front of me. “You eat the vegetables first, then you get blood,” he explained.
Okay. Weird. But whatever.
Mal picked at his vegetables, looking pained. Yeah, food wasn’t enjoyable to every nightblood.
“Eat!” Henrich snapped.
Mal popped a tomato in his mouth with a grimace and chewed.
I nibbled on a piece of carrot. It was fresh and sweet. Pleasant.
Movement at the door had me looking up to see Hyde enter. But he wasn’t alone. There was a woman on his arm. Pale, dark-haired, and beautiful. She was looking up at him in adoration, and Hyde … Hyde only had eyes for her.
“Deana?” Henrich barked. “What in the world …” He shoved back his chair and held out his arms.
“Uncle!” Deana rushed across the room and embraced the shadow master. “It’s so good to see you. Father sends his regards.”
Henrich’s harsh face softened. “You tell the old coot to come visit soon.” He looked up at Hyde. “Good to see you came back to your senses. Although I don’t think you should give the fool a second chance.” He chucked Deana under the chin.
