Chapter 2 | Anna
It was twenty minutes later when I stumbled out of the bedroom on wobbly legs, still in a haze of bliss. At least I was dressed. Kincade strolled out as though nothing was ever out of sorts. As though I didn’t undo him as easily as he undid me. I envied that about him.
At the foot of the stairs, Piers waited with his face upturned, looking anxious.
“Is he in the dining room?” I asked.
“No. He wanted to wait in the parlor. Shall I bring tea?”
“Coffee, please, Piers,” I said as my stomach growled. “And something to munch on.”
“Very good.”
He departed for the kitchen as we entered the parlor.
There was Silas wearing a long black trench coat, heavy boots splattered with mud, dark pants and shirt.
Like he was dressed to slink down a shadowy alleyway.
The fingers of his left hand were curled into his palm due to an injury he sustained that never healed.
An eyepatch covered his left eye, but even that didn’t hide the surprise on his face.
His one good eye widened as he took in my rumpled appearance.
The one and only time I’d met Silas was in Dublin, when he’d helped us get some explosives. Since then, I’d been through hell—literally—and my hair had turned from black to stark white. A present left from the surge of power through my body from the Ark of the Covenant and my near-death experience.
His gaze flickered to Kincade behind me.
“I hoped you’d be here with her,” he said in his gravelly voice with a hint of an accent.
Not just here. With her.
I glanced at Kincade. His expression had gone unreadable.
“How did you know where to find me?” I asked.
I’d never shared my home address with him. It wasn’t like we were going to exchange Christmas cards.
“I have ways of finding out information I need,” he replied.
That was unnerving. But then, it was easy to find me if one knew where to look.
I waved him to a nearby chair. Kincade took the one opposite him. Before I took my seat, Piers wheeled in the cart with a pot of coffee and a platter of bacon and toast. The aroma of both made my stomach growl again. I gave the butler a nod of thanks and moved to the cart.
“Coffee?” I asked.
“No.” He shook his head and turned his attention to Kincade. “I come with news.”
I added cream and stirred, watching as Kincade remained perfectly impassive while Silas sat on the edge of the seat.
“What’s so important you showed up on Anna’s doorstep at this ungodly hour?” he asked.
There was a hint of annoyance in his tone, one I shared since we were interrupted.
“The Brotherhood’s leadership is gone.”
I froze, staring at Silas as I held the cup in my hand. Kincade didn’t move. It wasn’t even apparent he’d taken a breath.
“What do you mean, gone?” he asked, his tone quiet and his words slow.
“I mean the grandmaster—and the rest of his inner circle—are dead,” Silas said. “There was a coup.”
“Who?”
“Sebastian,” Silas said.
Sebastian Crane. I scowled. I’d crossed his path before and walked away thinking it was finished.
“I should have killed him when I had the chance.” I set the cup on the tray, no longer interested. Anger pounded through me.
Silas nodded agreement. “Aye, lass. You should have. But what’s done is done, and now there’s no going back.”
“What about the Brotherhood?” Kincade asked, ignoring both of us.
“Sebastian’s taken control of it himself,” Silas said.
“Decker?” Kincade asked.
His brother—who’d chosen the wrong side.
Silas’s mouth tightened. “You won’t like it.”
Kincade’s hand curled into a fist, knuckles bleaching white. “Tell me.”
“He’s aligned himself with Sebastian,” Silas said. “One of his generals.” He glanced at the untouched coffee and bacon. “On second thought, lass, I'll take that coffee. Black.”
I poured it without comment and handed him the cup. Kincade hadn’t moved. The calm was a lie. Anger rolled off him in waves, sharp and contained. There was something else there, too. Something he wasn’t letting me see.
“Anna may have ended one reign,” Silas said, his gaze flicking briefly to me, “but a new one is forming.”
My stomach churned. I broke a strip of bacon in half to give my hands something to do.
“Meaning?” I asked.
“Meaning power never disappears,” Silas said. “It changes hands. Finds new voices.”
I understood that all too well.
“The Brotherhood is forming alliances with the kind of men who prefer shadows,” he continued. “They won’t call it that, of course. They’ll dress it up as order. Balance. Necessity.”
Kincade’s jaw tightened.
“And where does that leave Anna?” he asked.
Silas didn’t hesitate. “Visible.”
The word settled heavily in my chest.
“They know what she is,” Silas went on. “What she represents. And they know what she means to you.”
I met Kincade’s eyes then. Whatever he saw there must have mirrored my own understanding.
“There’s more,” Silas said. “The Brotherhood wants you back.”
Kincade let out a short, humorless laugh. “They can try.”
“They will,” Silas said. “And if you refuse, they’ll make an example of you.”
I folded my arms, grounding myself. “Or they’ll force the issue first.”
Silas inclined his head. “They want him alive. Obedient. Pointed in the right direction.”
“Which won’t happen,” Kincade said, rising. “We appreciate the warning.”
Silas stood as well. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t serious.”
He hesitated, then surprised me. “Let me stay. I can help.”
Kincade looked to me.
I didn’t hesitate this time. “Yes.”
“You can stay,” Kincade said.
Silas didn’t smile. He simply turned towards the door. “Then I’ll need supplies.”
He left without another word, as though the house already belonged to him.
“Do you trust him?” I asked once we were alone.
Since becoming Keeper of the Holy Relics, I’d learned better than to take anyone at face value. Everyone wanted something.
“Yes,” he said. “Silas has special skills.”
I nodded. “If you trust him, that’s good enough for me.”