Ephraim’s eyes narrowed on his oldest child as he snapped, “That’s because she knew what to expect, ass**le.”
“Asshole?” Chris repeated back, doing his best to sound hurt as he pressed a hand over his heart. “Is that any way to speak to your favorite child?”
“Izzy’s his favorite child,” the shifter, who’d gotten his ass handed to him, grumbled as he stepped into the elevator to join them. He looked as though he’d like nothing more than to go back inside that penthouse and beat the shit out of the Pyte who’d kicked his ass.
“Puhlease,” Chris said, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the elevator wall. “He f**king loves and adores me. Worships the very ground I walk on and would be lost without me,” he finished off the familiar litany with a loud yawn.
After another minute of just standing there, too tired to torment Ephraim for his f**kup, Kale snapped, “Why aren’t we moving?”
“No f**king clue,” Ephraim said around a loud yawn as he reached over and pressed the button for the fifth floor again.
Muttering obscenities in Gaelic, Kale reached over and flicked open the cover for the first floor button, revealing a fingerprint scanner. He gestured for Ephraim to press his finger against the smooth piece of glass. “You can’t get off a restricted floor in a Sentinel compound without requesting access,” Kale explained as though they were all idiots and at that moment, he sure as hell felt like one.
He’d been working with the Sentinels for over twenty years and this was the first time that he’d heard about this. Granted, he’d never even been allowed on a restricted floor before so he had no reason to know about this security measure, but still…..
“How do you know about this?” Caine demanded, knowing that the shifter standing in front of him was the last person on earth that the Council would willingly share their security secrets with.
“I make it a point to know everything about my enemies,” Kale said, meeting his gaze head on and delivering the unmistakable message that the shifter definitely counted him as an enemy.
“Me too,” Caine said with a wink, letting the cocky prick know that he more than shared the sentiment.
In fact, that was one of first things he did upon deciding to stay at the Williams’ mansion with his mate. He’d investigated everyone living there, even the prick who came and went as he pleased. He knew all about Kale Quinn, probably more than most people. He definitely knew things that the shifter wanted kept secret and as long as the shifter stayed away from his mate and didn’t try to f**k her over, he’d keep those secrets.
Ephraim pressed his finger to the scanner and held it there for a minute before he dropped his hand away and sighed. “What time are we leaving in the morning?” he asked, sounding almost as tired as Caine felt, which was pretty f**king exhausted.
“Don’t f**king care,” Kale said, pulling out his iPhone. “I’m leaving tonight.”
“Tonight?” Chris asked, opening his eyes as he shot a frown at the shifter that they all tolerated for Izzy’s sake.
“Tonight,” Kale confirmed, looking bored as he scrolled through his messages.
“What about the Pytes we just left upstairs?” Caine snapped. “They need to know what’s going on. They need-”
“That’s not my job,” Kale said, barely sparing him a glance as he shoved his phone back in his pocket as he reached over and pressed the button for the lobby.
“Not your job?” Danni repeated in disgust. “How is that not your job? You’re supposed to-”
“Find them, capture them and deliver them,” Kale fired off rapidly, cutting her off. “Babysitting them and making them feel good about their f**ked up existence isn’t part of my job description.”
“So, that’s the game plan?” Ephraim asked in a deceptively bored tone. “You’re going to hunt them down and deliver them to the Council with no questions asked?”
“Not a one,” Kale answered absently, pulling his phone back out when it chimed again.
“And what about Pytes like Christofer and Cloe who have no f**king clue what they are or what they’re getting themselves into?” Ephraim pressed on, asking the questions that they were all wondering.
“Pytes like Christofer can get their answers from whatever Sentinel is assigned to hold his hand,” Kale drawled, once again putting his phone away.
“And newly turned Pytes like Cloe?” Danni demanded, moving to get in the shifter’s face, but Caine knew his mate well enough to keep her right by his side.
“Will be exterminated before they draw their last mortal breath,” he said in that same bored tone that let them all know that he wasn’t f**king playing around.
“You f**king prick,” Chris growled, all signs of the playful exhaustion he’d been displaying only seconds before gone and in its place was the deadly Sentinel that most people learned not to f**k with.
Chris moved to get in Kale’s face, but before he could move so much as an inch, Ephraim was standing between them and in the shifter’s face. His eyes flashed red as he stared the shifter down. A muscle ticking in his jaw as he bit out, “Not. Fucking. Happening.”
“The Council won’t agree to that,” Danni hissed, struggling to get away from Caine and as much as he would love to tear the bastard apart, he couldn’t allow it.
He was still technically on probation and Kale, the f**king piece of shit, was the Council’s golden boy at the moment. He couldn’t chance getting his ass back on probation, not when he needed the Sentinel’s resources to make sure that Kale never got a chance to put his f**ked up beliefs into action. He knew the shifter well enough to know that he wouldn’t hesitate in killing a child or a woman just to make sure that they never got the chance to reach their immortality.
“Really?” Kale asked, chuckling darkly. “Do you really believe the Council’s going to care if I kill a few unauthorized turns?”
No, he didn’t.
Chapter 28
“Ow! Stop!”
“Hold still,” Christofer demanded with an expression of determination that actually frightened her as he-
“Ouch!” she hissed as more shampoo seeped into her eyes.
“Stop opening your eyes,” he said, sounding drained as he continued to tangle his fingers in her hair, somehow forcing more shampoo to drip down her face and seep into her eyes and mouth.
“I can do this myself!” she snapped. She moved to take over when he stopped what he was doing to gently, yet insistently, push her hands away so that he could continue with the torture.
“Not with your hand still bleeding,” he patiently pointed out with a touch of exasperation, throwing the body part in question a pointed look that had her sighing and reluctantly moving her hand to hang over the side of the tub where he’d told her to keep it when he’d started this line of torture more than twenty minutes ago.
“About that,” she said, cringing when he accidentally yanked out a strand of her hair. He muttered a, “sorry,” but continued, unfortunately, with his self-appointed task. “Don’t you think it’s about time that we accepted the fact that I haven’t fully turned into what you are and go to a hospital for some good old fashioned stitches?” she suggested, raising her injured hand in front of his face and wiggled her fingers. Well, tried to wiggle her fingers, but the gauze that the bossy bastard had insisted on cocooning her hand in prevented her from moving any of her fingers.