Bound. Jen Colly

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СКАЧАТЬ was in the legal document naming him heir of a whole damn city. When the facts of his ruling status had finally sunk in, he’d quickly turned his position as captain over to Soren Rayner, but it was hard to let go of his old job, and he often found himself trying to function as both lord and captain.

      Thank God for Soren. Soren’s job had always been to train new Guardians, weed out those incapable of the lifestyle, and hone the abilities of those who qualified. Now that the needs of the city had changed, the impressive man dedicated any spare time to training even the poorly suited would-be Guardians.

      By some miracle, Savard had relinquished a majority of his former responsibilities as captain. Soren now coordinated patrol shifts, studied city statistics, and even policed the corridors as a Guardian when necessary. He did it all selflessly when he would no doubt rather be home with his newly acquired mate, who despite having once been human, was adapting to the current turmoil of their city rather well.

      In theory, the shifting of titles and obligations should have lasted a handful of days. After a full week, he’d grown concerned. Soon Navarre would either wake, or die.

      The radio at his hip crackled and Ivan’s sturdy voice came through. “Captain? Dyre and Titus are back.”

      He snatched the radio off his belt before bringing it to his lips. “Where?”

      “I sent them to the briefing room.”

      Savard took a left down the next corridor. He’d sent those men, less than a week into their new rank of Guardian, to warn the city of Talvane about the demon threat. They’d been gone long enough for him to consider adding their names to the list of casualties.

      He pushed open the briefing room door. Titus and Dyre scrambled from their chairs to stand at attention before him. These men were polar opposites. Wealthy and refined, Dyre maintained an aristocratic look even while working as a Guardian. Long, well-kept hair, impeccable speech, and a serious respect for his elders. Titus was a beast. He got the job done hard and fast, never backing down from using sheer strength and intimidation to diffuse a situation. It was a wonder they got along so well.

      “What took so long?” Savard asked before the door had even shut behind him. “Was Paris as bad as we thought?”

      “In spots,” Dyre admitted. “It took time to avoid the small packs of demons in the city. We were forced to seek shelter above through the daylight hours.”

      “And Talvane?” Savard prompted.

      Dyre bowed his head respectfully. “They’ve been warned. No demon has entered their city.”

      “Good. Very good,” Savard said.

      The door opened again, and all three turned to see the man who made Guardians. Soren Rayner crossed the threshold, his gun holster slung across his broad shoulders. He was still on duty.

      “Captain,” Soren said, fully entering the room. “Sorry, I meant to say my lord. You still want me answering the calls for captain, right?”

      “Absolutely,” Savard said with a sharp nod. He’d done it again, falling into his old job while attempting to navigate his new title of lord. “The change in title is temporary. I happened to be close, and we need answers.”

      Soren nodded, seeming to buy his story, then turned to the young men. “You got inside Talvane? Lord Gregor gave you an audience?”

      “He nearly didn’t.” Dyre shared a short glance with Titus. “His captain put forth a generous argument on our behalf.”

      Titus remained silent, an unusual and nearly impossible feat that made Savard suspicious. “Titus. Anything you want to add?”

      “Lord Gregor is a pompous ass,” Titus said.

      Dyre hung his head and sighed, his long hair falling over his shoulder. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t call Lord Gregor an ass.”

      “Pompous ass,” Titus corrected.

      A deep laughter rumbled from Soren, then grew until a wide smile spread across his face.

      “You think this is funny?” Savard asked. “You’re the one who promoted them.”

      “I said they were ready to serve as Guardians, not messengers. And Lord Gregor is an ass. Always has been,” Soren said with a short nod to Titus.

      “Have I missed something?” Savard asked. “Is insulting the Lord of Talvane suddenly acceptable?”

      “No.” Shaking off his amusement, Soren said evenly, “Insulting a lord is never acceptable, but nothing will come of the instance. Luckily, in Gregor’s case, I believe he likes his ogre image.”

      That was a surprise. “You know Lord Gregor?”

      “I know of him,” Soren said with a shrug, then turned to Titus and Dyre. “You two look worn out. Clean up and rest. You’ll be briefed and given posts tomorrow.”

      Titus and Dyre nodded and headed for the door, shoulders slumped and feet dragging. Sleep was in their near future, and their bodies seemed to have a head start.

      Soren rested his hip against the table and leaned toward Savard. “You don’t look so good yourself.”

      Rubbing his hands over his bare cheeks, Savard let out a heavy sigh. “I haven’t slept.”

      “That’ll do it.” Soren crossed his arms over his chest, shifting back into serious mode. “What did I miss?”

      He’d been so used to taking information and running with it, fixing problems without Lord Navarre ever having known they’d existed. Sharing this responsibility was strange. As acting captain, Soren needed this information. “Demons in Paris. None in Talvane.”

      “How can that be? Talvane is actually in Paris.”

      “None in Valenna, none in Talvane, and Galbraith is the only city left. I don’t like the odds.” Savard swept his hair off his face, combing the straight mass back over his head where it belonged. “If demons have not entered Galbraith, then we have a bigger problem.”

      “How long has Vidor been gone?”

      “Nine, ten days.” He didn’t care for these figures, either.

      “He should have been back days ago,” Soren said, his voice flat.

      The councilman had ventured to Galbraith out of concern for his niece’s safety, not a diplomatic mission. His timetable deserved some leeway. “True, but he left prior to the attack. He wouldn’t have a reason to rush home. He may only be visiting.”

      “Maybe.” Soren pondered the thought for a moment; then his eyes lifted, sharp and focused. “Captain, I didn’t stop by to chat.”

      “What is it?”

      “Steffen is causing problems in the clinic.”

      “I’ll take care of it now,” Savard said, squaring his shoulders and marching out of the room.

      This is how his life progressed lately. The second a problem was resolved or СКАЧАТЬ