Page 138 of The Satyr's Guilt
“You saidCustodes Templiiformedright after the Schism?”
“Maybe fifty years or so.”
“How does it work?”
“One descendant from each line is a tracker.Well, all lines except the Cambion’s. He has no descendants.Strange. So, I’m not sure how a full coven can be assembled.Anyway, each tracker takes a solemn vow to watch those in theirbloodline.”
“What about when trackers die?”
“Amazing, huh? We each have multiple backupsin case of an emergency or death. It has worked this way since thebeginning.”
“Are any of your charges missing?”
“I’m doing my rounds. Not an easy task sinceI’m also in hiding. So far, all are in place.”
“Are your trackers safe?”
“Thanks to your info, they are. Those whothink they might have exposed themselves through their medicalrecords are hiding out also.”
“Stay safe, Miller. I’d feel better if you’dcome in and let us protect you.”
“Look, luv, this is a dangerous game. I stayalive because I don’t trust anyone. I’ve learned over the years todepend on myself. Ta ta.”
“Call once a week or right away if you findout anyone else is missing. We could use all your records,Miller.”
“I couldn’t live without hearing yourcheerful voice, luv. As far as the works, I’m going to have to mullthat a bit. Cheerio.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“You returned late. I triedto wait for you.” It was early morning and Lizette sat in bed, herback against the headboard, her gaze on Jarek, who had fallenasleep nearby on the floor pillows.
He leaned forward, his eyes feasting on asleep-rumpled Lizette.
“What were you dreaming about?” sheasked.
“How do you know I dreamed?”
“You have tells.”
“Revenge.”
“You must share.” She patted the bed besideher. Though she threw back the cover, Jarek put it back over herlegs and crawled atop the hides. “What happened after youescaped?”
“I rejoined a djinn unit. I was older andstronger than ever. I trained every day in camp, always challengingthe bigger, faster males. Sometimes I got my ass handed to me, butmost often, I won. Eventually, I was the victor every time. Soon,no one accepted my challenge.”
“Was the camp better than what you hadbefore?”
Jarek threw back his head, his laughter aglorious deep sound. “Battle camps are not resorts. The general’stent was lined with the hides of conquered foes.”
“But were you better off there?”
He propped his head in the palm, his elbowbent, his earnest gaze on Lizette. “Yes. My life was in my ownhands. The camp djinn were rapists, murderers, and thieves, typicalmercenaries, but the general required fair fights fordominance.”
“What if you won your fight?”
“I had my choice of companions for thenight.”
“And when you lost?”
