Repairer of the Breach (Stones of Fire Book 4) by Sarah Ashwood (reading eggs books .TXT) 📗

for everyone else. She’d claimed to see a glimpse of that spirit in him.

Carter snorted, shut off the water, and stepped out of the shower. Ellie was crazy. Idealistic. He’d been willing to die for her because he loved her, but he sure as heck didn’t love all the shapeshifters in this world or the people he didn’t even know in some other. He wasn’t about to play the martyr, the messiah, for everyone.

Dressed, he exited the bathroom to see James still there, still perched on the arm of the chair. He swiped his hair out of his face, glancing up from his phone.

“I just confirmed with Sean. He’s in his third-floor office. He’s got a few minutes to spare.”

“Did you tell him I was coming?” Carter asked, raising his brows.

“Nope. Left that part out. Thought it might make a nice surprise.”

“It’s going to be a surprise, alright. Not sure about nice.”

Carter had never felt nervous to face his employer. Not in years. He was now. Rare anxiety gripped his senses as he jogged up staircases and strode down hallways, ignoring the shocked expressions of those he and James passed. Obviously whatever tale Ciara had concocted had spread, and that didn’t make Carter feel any better.

It wasn’t that he feared Sean personally; the Talos could take on a Minotaur. It was the fact that it was Sean who had stood in the role of a father, a mentor all these years. The past half-decade he’d dedicated his own life to Sean’s personal protection. Now he was facing the person he most respected to inform him that his beloved wife was a traitor.

One of the Ito brothers kept the office door. His eyes got big as Carter and James approached, but he didn’t offer a challenge. Taking a breath, Carter steeled himself before rapping on the door with his knuckles.

“Come in.”

He and James exchanged glances before James turned the handle and opened the door, entering first. Sean was seated in an armchair under a lamp, a laptop balanced on his legs, his reading glasses perched on his nose. His tie was loosened. Papers were spread across the table beside him. He didn’t look up as he said, “What is it you want, James? I’m very busy right now. Carter’s absence has left quite a hole to fill.”

“Um, that’s just it, sir.” James cleared his throat, shifting his weight to reveal Carter standing behind him. “Carter’s not exactly absent anymore.”

“What do you mean by tha—”

His boss broke off as he glanced up and saw his head of security standing there.

For several long seconds he stared, and Carter felt the tension ratchet up. He quirked his shoulders, and still Sean didn’t speak. Out of respect, Carter waited for him to go first. Finally, Sean closed the laptop and laid it aside on the table, placing it on top of the papers. Removing his glasses, he placed them on top of the laptop, then he steepled his hands in front of himself.

“Carter.” His voice was blunt. Not warm, not cold. Just direct. Hard to read. “I wasn’t expecting this,” he admitted.

“No,” Carter agreed. “I didn’t figure you would be.”

“Ciara said you’d gone rogue and went after the Stones yourself. You and Ellie.”

Carter shifted his weight, uncomfortable with Ellie’s name being brought into the conversation.

“Ellie had nothing to do with this, sir. And I did not go rogue. That would be someone else.”

“You mean Ciara.”

Carter blinked. Once. Twice. Did his boss know? He and James exchanged side glances, silently asking each other the same question. Did he know? How? And for how long?

It was James who nerved up to ask, “You—you know, sir?”

Sean chuckled, but there was no humor in it.

“Do you think I could be married to the woman, share a bed with her, a child, and not know she hated me and was plotting behind my back? I’m not a fool. I may be getting older, but I still have a brain to use, and, yes, I was thinking with the brain inside my head.”

He said it like a reprimand, like they shouldn’t have doubted him, or should’ve been ashamed for believing he could be fooled by his beautiful younger wife. Neither Carter nor James argued. Sean went on. Rising, he went to the decanter on the side table beside the wall-to-wall bookcases.

“I know it’s early, but it’s 5:00 somewhere. Isn’t that what they say? I think I need a drink. Either of you care to join me?”

“Normally, I’d decline, but right now I think I could use one too,” Carter admitted. He ran a hand roughly down his face. “I’m sorry, Sean. I don’t know what to say.”

There was silence except for the sounds of amber liquid being poured into crystal cups, of clinking ice and the lid being placed back on the decanter. Sean offered first Carter, then James a drink before he poured himself one and reseated himself in his arm chair.

“Neither do I,” he finally admitted. He stared at the cup as if it held the answers he sought. In an abrupt motion, he raised it, tossing back half his drink. Then sighed, repeated, “Neither do I.”

Next to Carter, James took a cautious sip. He wasn’t much of a drinker. When the burning liquid hit his throat, Carter saw him grimace then bend to set the cup aside. As for himself, Carter downed his in one swallow, relishing the fire that spread through his body, his senses. It both numbed and invigorated, soothed and enflamed. Braced, he dared to stare his employer in the face.

“How long have you known?”

He chose directness now. No longer any point in beating around the bush. This was the here and now. This was all of their futures. This could be life and death—not only for them, personally, but anyone in the Costas Empire and associated with it.

“The realization has been dawning for the past few years,” Sean admitted slowly. “Possibly—possibly since Jackson was born, or shortly thereafter. Ciara always pined for the sea.