Bound by Prophecy

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

Luck

When a knock sounded at the door later, we were both asleep. Emily jolted, but I squeezed her against me. "Yes?"

"We'll be serving dinner in half an hour, Mr. Archer."

"Fine." His footsteps didn't recede. "Thank you, Wesley."

"Sir..." He hesitated. "The girl, Miss Drake." He stopped again, realizing there were two Drake girls now. "Emily, sir..."

Emily's back stopped rising and falling beneath my hand and I had to bite back a smile. "Yes?"

"She's not in her room, sir. Should I report it to Brendan?"

I could hear the dread in his voice. No one wanted to give Brendan bad news. "No, Wesley, she's fine. I'll see that she makes it to dinner."

"Thank you, sir. Thank you."

Wesley was skinny, awkward, and terrified of displeasing anyone in the Division. He was also trustworthy, efficient, and talented, but he'd been only fourteen when Morgan had first "reprimanded" him for a few minor slip ups while working for Council. It had stuck with him, even after Brendan had taken him in. But Morgan had that effect on people.

Emily started breathing again. She pushed herself to sitting and I resisted the urge to drag her back, close my eyes, and fall asleep once more. I was glad my eyes were open when I saw her mortified expression.

I rose to my elbows. "Do you want to skip dinner?"

That only made it worse. Her cheeks reddened.

"All right, then. Why don't you sneak off to your sister's room and I'll meet you down there. I'm sure she's just about got the run of the place by now."

She moved to climb over me and I sat the rest of the way up, grasping her arm to stop her. We were face to face, inches apart when I whispered my warning. "Remember what I said, Emily. Stay with Brianna. I don't want you alone with any of them."

Slightly short of breath, she asked, "Even Brendan?"

Especially Brendan, I thought, but merely nodded.

I released my grip and swung my legs to the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed to watch her go. When the door clicked quietly shut behind her, I finally stretched my shoulder, grateful it had fully healed. It was the most I'd slept since Council had located Brianna.

I probably would have relaxed a few more minutes, but dinner would be set shortly, and I had some catching up to do. I slipped on my shoes and the button-up shirt that had been left out for me, not at all surprised to find it tailored to fit, before heading down to find Brendan. He would have been expecting me hours ago.

When I made it to the end of the hall, I was intercepted by an attractive brunette in her early twenties. "Oh, Mr. Archer, Mr. Samuels will want to see you."

"That's where I was headed," I explained. "Is Brendan in his office?"

"Yes," she said, "Mr. Samuels is in the front office suite, I'll take you there."

I smiled at her curt reminder of propriety, but it was received by the back of her head as she'd promptly spun to deliver me to the Mr. Samuels in question. She was dressed in a fitted navy jacket that had to have been custom-made, matching skirt falling exactly one inch above the knee. Her heels must have been padded to not echo off the wood floor, and only the swish of fabric accompanied us on our way, because she obviously had nothing to say to the likes of me.

We crossed through two beige rooms, and one more like creamed coffee, before arriving at Brendan's office. It was all mahogany and glass.

"Aern," he said, ignoring the brunette as she soundlessly stepped aside and backed from the room. "What kept you?"