Cain's Identity Page 37
Cain nodded and walked past him, while Haven stopped.
“My colleagues and I need some nourishment,” Haven addressed the guard.
“Would you prefer packaged or fresh?”
“Packaged will be fine,” Haven answered.
Cain turned briefly, casually calling out to the guard, “Bring sufficient for all of us.” Then he motioned in Wesley’s direction. “And have some human food ordered, too.”
“Human food, sir?” the guard asked, looking confused.
“You heard me. Get it done!” Cain ordered, raising his voice, and continued walking down the corridor. If he remembered John’s directions correctly, at the end of it lay the king’s reception room, part office, part living area.
When he reached another double door, he stopped and cast his friends a sideways look. “This had better be it.”
Cain pressed the door handle down and pushed the door inward. His three Scanguards colleagues followed as he entered the room.
They weren’t alone. Abel sat at a massive desk with elaborately carved legs and trim. His brother’s head instantly shot up.
Cain hesitated. It appeared that he’d opened the wrong door and barged into Abel’s office without knocking. Searching for something to say, he merely stared at his brother who now shuffled the papers he was perusing into one stack and jumped up.
“I was just cleaning up for you,” Abel said, and motioned to the chair. “Didn’t want you to start your first day back with a disorganized desk.” Then he dug into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys, placing them on the desk. “And here are the keys to everything, of course.”
Cain’s feeling of relief was instantly replaced by displeasure. It appeared that his brother only hesitantly wanted to relinquish the power he’d had during Cain’s absence.
“Thank you,” he forced himself to say and walked to his desk.
Abel stepped aside and let him take his seat. Cain laid his hands on the cool wooden surface. “I would like you to inform the members of the king’s guard that I’d like to speak to them.”
“All members?” his brother asked with a frown on his face.
“Yes, every single one of them.”
“But they can’t just leave their posts. They have responsibilities that—”
Cain narrowed his eyes. “Are you the king or am I?”
Abel appeared taken aback by his question and raised an eyebrow. “Whatever happened to you, it seems to have made you very irritable.”
“You would be irritable too if you were trying to find out who was responsible for your abduction.” Cain knew full well what the reason for his irritability was: the knowledge that his brother had touched Faye. It made it hard to be civil to him.
“I understand, of course.”
“I’m glad of that,” Cain said in a less commanding tone. “Then maybe you can arrange for the members of the king’s guard to come and see me. One after the other.” He motioned to the door, nodding briefly, then buried his head in the stack of papers on his desk, pretending to know what he was actually looking at. Only when he heard the door close behind Abel did he look up again.
“A bit presumptuous, your brother,” Haven commented. Then he grinned. “But you’re doing a heck of a job pissing him off. Frankly, I think you were born to be king.”
Wesley chuckled. “Totally! You’re like a natural!”
Cain jumped up from his chair and pounded his fist on the desk. “That’s because I am the king!”
“Hey, what the fuck?” Wes complained.
Cain rubbed a hand over his face and took a calming breath. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to lash out at any of you.” He motioned to the door. “I just can’t stand that prick!”
“Understandable under the circumstances,” Thomas said evenly and took a seat on one of the large sofas. “But I would caution you to keep your feelings about him under wraps. He’s bound to notice that you resent him—for obvious reasons—and until we’ve gotten a lay of the land and figured out who’s still loyal to you, you don’t want to draw his wrath on you.”
As much as Cain wanted to dispute Thomas’s words, he couldn’t. As so often, the wise vampire had hit the nail on the head. It was important to refrain from starting an open war over a woman whose motives Cain wasn’t even sure of. What if Faye was playing them both?
Slowly he lowered himself back into his chair. “What are you suggesting, Thomas?”