The Thief (Black Dagger Brotherhood #16)(135)

The male was not a pushover, however. And as those caramel eyes narrowed, Saxton held up his free hand. “We have to do this. It’s the law.”

Ruhn’s eyes returned to the house’s lineup of darkened windows. “I don’t like this.”

“I have to inform him of the inheritance. Come, let us approach.”

They walked straight up the center of the allée, and as they proceeded, Saxton had to wonder why anyone ever volunteered to sit through Caldwell’s winters. If he didn’t have his position with the King, he would most certainly spend time down here.

Although…their old farmhouse was incredibly quaint, with its cheery fires in the fireplaces, and cozy quilts to cuddle under—and the opportunity for Ruhn to play plumber under that faulty kitchen sink.

There was nothing better than a male who knew how to deal with pipes—

Twin red laser beams hit both of them in the chest—directly at sternum height—and froze them in their tracks.

There were only two things in the world that would make that sort of optical effect. And one had to assume that nobody would be bothering with a laser pointer this late at night…toward two strangers who, technically, were not invited to be on the premises.

On the second floor, a light came on, illuminating a tremendous shadow that stood in what was an open window.

“You’re trespassing,” came a low, evil voice. “And I don’t like people on my land.”

Saxton cleared his throat as both he and Ruhn lifted their hands. “We come in peace. We are here to see Murhder.”

There was a long pause. “You’re the one that sent the letter.”

“Yes. I am Saxton. I am Wrath, son of Wrath, sire of Wrath’s solicitor. This is my mate, Ruhn. We have arrived here to inform him that he has come into an inheritance—”

“I don’t want it.”

Saxton glanced down at his own chest. “Would you consider lowering your weapons? This is a bit unsettling.”

“No, I won’t. And I don’t want anyone’s money.”

“Then will you kindly sign the documents I sent in my letter renouncing it—”

“My signature is no good.”

Saxton recoiled. “Why?”

“I’m insane. Haven’t you heard. The insane cannot consent, we do not legally exist.”

Excellent point. But let us not get hung up on technicalities, Saxton thought to himself.

He took a deep breath. “Forgive me, but you do not sound crazy.” Although the male was threatening to shoot two perfectly innocent people—so how balanced could he be? “And I am required to see this through. It’s my job.”

There was a long period of silence. “Tell your King that I will sign those papers, but only if he sees me personally. I want to meet with him. I think it’s about time.”

“Once again, forgive me, but this is not a matter usually handled in such a fashion. The King doesn’t—”

“Those are my terms. You know where to find me. If Wrath will see me, I will sign the papers. Now go. Before I decide to indulge my need for target practice.”

Saxton measured the sheer heft of the shadow in the window. Backlit as the male was, there was no telling what the face looked like—although he was fairly certain that the hair was long, and yes, the size of the body was definitely that of a Brother.

Saxton bowed low. “I will inform the King of your preference, and I shall be back in touch. Perhaps if you would like to give me a number where I can—”

“I am old-fashioned. I prefer parcel post—or FedEx, I believe is what you used. You can communicate with me that way. Now get off my property.”

Saxton glanced at his love. “Let us go, the now,” he said under his breath.

“Yes,” Ruhn agreed readily.

As the two of them dematerialized for the first leg of the trip back to Caldwell, Saxton’s only thought was that this did not bode well.

This did not bode well, at all.





SIXTY-THREE


It took Sola, relatively speaking, no time at all to get to West Point, and as she parked her car down by the water and got out, she remembered another trip here in the dark, on a different cold night. That previous visit to Ricardo’s house, that other infiltration, that bid to claim what was properly owed to her, had set everything else in motion: her abduction, Assail’s actions on her behalf…her introduction to the training center.

And here she was, doing a full circle for closure.

Just as she had before, she stuck to the low-slung stone wall as she proceeded up the incline of the long, ascending front lawn. Unlike before, she wasn’t on skis or wearing white to blend into the snowy landscape. It didn’t matter; she moved fast, and the cloud cover over the moon gave her a pass.

As she approached Ricardo’s mansion, she noted where the lights were glowing: A couple in his master suite, but there were ones on in the lower level as well.

She had her gun out the entire time. And she’d screwed the suppressor on.

She knew a couple of different ways to break into the house, and mentally reviewed her options. She didn’t have her grappling gear with her, which was perhaps an oversight on her part. No matter, though. She would make this work and get her job done.

When she arrived at the apex, she had to cross over the side lawn to get to the corner of the mansion, and she did not enjoy being without cover—but she made it and flattened her back against a wall between two arching windows.