Yeah. No one wanted to discuss the fact that they’d all turned a blind eye to murder rather than openly confront the Obsidian Throne.
“I’m not sure anyone knows the precise details,” Jian said in a low voice, “but Tiege has always claimed that Marakel had chosen her before she fell in love with Tiege’s brother. Supposedly the bastard kidnapped her and then beat her to death when she refused to warm his bed.”
Taka’s jaw clenched. The hardened warrior had a soft spot for vulnerable females and children.
“What do you think?”
“There’s no proof, but I don’t doubt that Marakel is capable of killing a female in a fit of rage,” Jian said without hesitation. “Unfortunately, there was no proof he took her, and his servants refused to say if they’d seen her, let alone if they’d disposed of her body. We didn’t have enough evidence to have him brought to justice.”
“A damn shame.”
“Beneath his pretense of not giving a damn about anything, I don’t think Tiege ever forgave the rest of us for not doing more to prove Portia was murdered.” Jian heaved a sigh. Now that he had his own mate, he truly understood the pain that Petros must have endured, and why he’d turned his back on his life, handing his responsibilities to Tiege. “And I don’t blame him. If we hadn’t been so damned self-centered and consumed with our own petty issues, we could have worked together and realized there was something wrong with the Sovereign and his dysfunctional reign.”
Taka jerked his head toward Tiege. “So he’s only helping because his brother forced him to?”
“That’s what he says, but I would guess that he hopes the pendant will offer him the opportunity to destroy Marakel.”
Taka made a sound of surprise. “Why would he think they’re connected?”
“To have the pendant found just when we’ve discovered the connection between Marakel and the angels, not to mention the treachery of the Nephilim priestesses…” Jian gave a lift of his hands. “It has to be more than a coincidence.”
Taka grimaced, but he didn’t argue. Magical creatures possessed a healthy respect for fate.
“Have you ever seen him…”
Jian chuckled as his ruthless, outrageously courageous friend shuddered at the mere mention of Tiege’s powers. “Talk to the dead?” he finished for him.
“Yeah.”
Jian shook his head. “No one is allowed to witness the ceremony.”
“Let’s hope he’s as good as he claims to be.”
~
Tiege strolled onto the private jet with a small yawn. He’d been on a three-day binge when Petros had called him home on a matter of ‘utmost urgency.’ He’d almost ignored the command. Wasn’t it enough that he was expected to devote endless hours to the family real estate business? Now he had to deal with the Masters on his days off?
It really was too much to ask of a genuine hedonist.
Then he’d realized that the bastards had at last come to their senses and accepted that the current Sovereign was truly a psychopathic monster. About fucking time.
Yeah, it was too damned late to help Portia or Petros, but it at least offered him the opportunity to destroy the male who’d caused so much damage.
Settling in the deeply cushioned leather seat, he accepted the drink that was handed to him by the exquisite young stewardess and watched as the thin, silver-haired man dressed in a somber black suit moved through the streamlined aircraft to take a seat opposite him.
The male looked like a traditional English butler with his narrow face and haughty expression, but in truth he was a highly skilled Watchman who’d been Tiege’s personal guard since he was just a child.
“Jacob,” Tiege murmured.
The elder guard offered a dip of his head. “Master.”
“You’ve made all the arrangements for my arrival in Vegas?”
“I have.” The male carefully tugged at the cuffs of his crisp white shirt. “I’ve reserved your favorite suite and a limo will be waiting at the airport to take us to the hotel.”
“And you made sure that the bar is stocked?” Tiege demanded. Just because he had a duty to perform didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself.
Hell, it was all the more reason to party.
He’d discovered after his father’s death and his brother’s retreat into his stoic depression that he could follow them into the darkness or he could plunge headfirst into pleasure.
And plot the day he would have his revenge.
“Of course,” Jacob assured him. “By the time we arrive it will be filled with your favorite selection of wine, cognac, cigars, and several cheese plates.”
Tiege sipped his whiskey, smiling at the stewardess who hovered near the end of the cabin. Even at a distance he could catch the scent of her arousal. One lift of his finger and she’d be crawling all over him.
“You sent out the invitations?”