Hunt the Darkness (Guardians of Eternity #11)(79)

“There is a Mr. Raith to see you, sir,” he said, his toneless voice not able to disguise his disdain for the visitor.

Brandel clenched the arms of his chair.

“Tell him—”

“That you’re anxious to speak with your dear friend who has traveled so far just to see you?” a familiar voice drawled as Raith stepped into the room, still clinging to his Adonis form.

Brandel grimaced, understanding his servant’s blatant disgust.

Raith had left his halo of golden curls to tumble to his broad shoulders, which were revealed by a sleeveless vest stretched tight over his large muscles and a pair of jeans that had half a dozen rips in the faded material.

He looked like he should be turning tricks on a downtown corner, not visiting a powerful tycoon of business.

Brandel kept his own face expressionless as he met the mocking brown eyes.

“Raith.” He waved a hand toward the servant. “That will be all, Fenmore.”

The elder man gave a half bow. “Yes, sir.”

They waited in silence for the servant to exit the room, shutting the door behind him.

Then, with a motion too fluid for a mere human, Raith gave a toss of his hair and crossed to stand near the crackling fire.

“A butler?” he drawled, speaking out loud. The human servants would be curious if they didn’t hear voices from behind the closed door.

Brandel forced himself to relax back in his chair.

He’d known this encounter was coming. He’d just hoped he’d already have his hands on the box when Raith tracked him down.

“I have to find somewhere to hide from the Oracles,” he said, pointing out the obvious.

Raith glanced around the library that was the size of most homes.

“This is hardly discreet.”

Brandel shrugged. “Our enemies would expect me to be cowering in a dark cave.”

Raith didn’t look particularly impressed by his logic. “So instead you’re hiding in plain sight?”

“You have a better suggestion?”

Raith waved away the question, his eyes flickering to black, the slit of crimson reflecting the nearby flames.

“And that’s the only reason you’d settled in this particular place?”

Brandel didn’t bother pretending he didn’t know what his companion was implying.

“No. I’m still attempting to acquire the box so it can be destroyed.”

Raith arched a golden brow. “Destroyed?”

“Of course.” Brandel managed a stiff smile. “The Oracles have already discovered that I’m not what I pretended to be. We can’t afford for them to realize that we’re holding a Chatri captive.”

Raith leaned against the mantel, his gaze never wavering from Brandel’s guarded expression.

“So—”

“What?”

“This has nothing to do with wanting the box for yourself ?”

Brandel stiffened, inwardly cursing Raith’s persistence. “I said I intend to destroy it.”

“And I’m not convinced of your sincerity,” his companion drawled.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but for what purpose?” The air vibrated in reaction to Raith’s swelling anger. “To destroy the box or claim it?”

Brandel rose to his feet, pacing toward the heavy walnut desk.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You twice had the opportunity to get rid of the box and yet you failed miserably on each occasion.”

“The witch—”

“Yes?” Raith prompted.

“Is more.”

“More what?”

Brandel unconsciously frowned. It troubled him he couldn’t figure out how the female managed to disrupt his very essence. If it hadn’t been impossible, he would have suspected she was somehow gaining power from the box.

“I’m not certain, but there’s something strange about her,” he muttered.

The vibrations became more intense. “So that’s your excuse?” Raith demanded.

“She’s an unexpected variable.”

“You know what I think, Brandel?”

Brandel turned back to meet Raith’s narrowed glare. “What?”

“I think that you could have destroyed the box, but instead you tried to keep it for yourself.”

Brandel struggled to hold his human form. “Why would I do that?”

“For the magic,” Raith accused. “The power.”

Enough.

Raith clearly wasn’t going to be fooled. There was no point in continuing his charade.

“You believe you should be the only one with magic?” he instead accused.

Raith straightened from the mantel, his anger shattering the crystal vases that were lined along a top shelf.

“You have an entire world of fey to feast upon,” he hissed.

As if a mere fey could remotely compare to what Raith had been gorging on for the past few centuries.

“But none with the magic of a Chatri.”

Raith smiled without humor. “We all have a role to play.”

“Well, I am weary of my role.”

“Fine.” Raith stepped forward. “Then return home and I’ll send another to clean up your mess.”