Page 9 of The Goblin in the Sink Drain
“They have each other,” I agreed with her assessment. “Jess has no one as far as I can tell.”
Key members of the clan had been relocated to Brentwood. For my sake. Most considered it an honor to have been among the chosen, but guilt held me in a chokehold when I thought about what they had lost because of a betrothal that might go nowhere.
“She’s got us.” Sloane looped her arm through mine. “I’m willing to share.”
“I’m still figuring out the friend thing.” I let doubt creep in from time to time, even with Sloane, who had proven herself loyal to me over and over again. “Jess might be better off with just you.”
“You and me? We’re a package deal. That’s how besties work.” She tipped her head against mine. “And I’m not just saying that because I’ve been dreaming about your Tex-Mex eggs Benedict.”
“Mmm-hmm.” I snorted at her buttering me up to cook for her again. “Shifters will eat anything.”
They burned so many calories, they were always snacking on something to fuel their transformations.
“That’s a dirty lie.” She turned me loose and reached for her door handle. “Shifters will eateverything.”
Chuckling as she rubbed her stomach, I climbed into the backseat, sitting behind her.
Poor Rían had folded himself into the middle spot when he should have been the one riding up front. The way his knees almost touched his chest couldn’t be comfortable, and his wide shoulder bumped mine as I fastened my seat belt. About to tell Liam that Sloane and Rían ought to switch places, Rían snucka look at me from under his lashes, a tiny smile fighting to stay hidden.
“You can’t be comfortable.” I pressed my back against the door to give him more room. “Your head is an inch from the ceiling, and I haven’t seen you breathe since I got in.” I studied him. “Canyou breathe?”
“Around you?” He slid his palms down his thighs. “Not always.”
Pink flushed Rían’s nape, seeping into his cheeks, and he awarded the console his entire focus.
Having been the frequent target of skilled flirts, guys who viewed me only as the next rung on the ladder to alphahood, I found Rían’s unpolished approach refreshing. But I wasn’t about to admit that in front of Liam when I had no doubt he would hold it over my head.
“The seat belt is clearly restricting airflow to your brain.” Liam met his cousin’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “I’m going to spare you from embarrassing yourself, and me, by updating Ana on the Sartori situation.”
The Sartori situation. Funny. Liam had jokes. “An update would be great.”
“Mercer wants a private meeting with you. Outside the wards. If you ask me, he’s hoping to pull a smash-and-grab since his last attempt at smuggling you home failed.” Liam drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “That means, in my humble opinion, a Walsh clan rep should attend with you to prevent that outcome.”
And I could guess who would volunteer to play rep, since the Sartoris wouldn’t recognize his real face.
“Mercer would view that as a sign I’ve aligned myself with your clan.” I might not be a spymaster, but I had common sense. “And, if he couldn’t make himself believe that, he would decideI was only allowed to attend with a Walsh rep because you’re holding me against my will and forcing me to do as I’m told.”
Both things he ought to be well acquainted with, given how Dad treated me like a princess in a tower.
“I’m surprised he’s back on his feet so quickly,” Sloane mused softly. “You kicked his ass, Ana.”
For Mercer to be functional within twenty-four hours, he must have gone to the witches for help.
“You were breathtaking.” Rían watched me from the corner of his eye. “You’re lethal with those claws.”
Their praise sank into me, warming my chest with pride, and I couldn’t stop my smile. “Thanks.”
“Ana already told Mercer,” Sloane reminded them, “she won’t meet with anyone but her father.”
“Tell my dad I’m not choosing a side—yet—but I’m not leaving Brentwood until he agrees to meet with me. Either he tells me the truth, the whole truth, or I have no reason not to believe what the Walshes are telling me.”
That was the message I gave Mercer, and his loyalty to Dad was such he would have taken word straight to him. I doubt he would have consented to seeing a healer, despite his wounds being tainted with silver from my claws, before he relayed his failure and my ultimatum.
And in sending Mercer rather than coming himself, Dad had given his answer.
Either I met with him, spoke to him, on his terms or not at all. Which meant he thought I was bluffing. He expected me to tuck tail and return with Mercer. He was that certain of his control over me.
“I stand by that.” I wrapped my arms around my middle. “I want to hear his side of the story.”
