Chapter 4

Four

“He will see you now, Mr Jerrilan.”

I am so lost in my anxious pacing, I don’t even sense my king’s secretary approach behind me. I turn and follow her gently swaying hips in that lovely, tight dress across the opulent waiting room, but stop my train of thought when she knocks on the closed heavy wooden double doors at the other end. Taking a steadying breath, I try to calm my nerves and clear my mind of everything else.

“Enter.”

The sexy secretary pushes both the doors open, motioning me to move inside. Having done this before, I know the protocol: hat off, eyes on the floor, move quietly through the lounge area near the doors and up to the desk at the back of the long room, stop a few paces from the armchairs before his desk and wait. I don’t raise my eyes, and I absolutely do not think of anything but the task at hand.

I wait, all but holding my breath as he types on a keyboard. My supernatural hearing picks up the stretch of the thread holding the buttons on his waistcoat when he moves, and the leather on his chair shifting as he leans back.

“Speak.” It’s all the command I need.

“It’s her, sire. I’m sure of it. Traces of her mother are most dominant, but your essence is there too. And power, not like anything I have scented in nearly a century,” I say, keeping my eyes firmly on the floor even though I can hear him rise, walk around the desk, and lean against the ledge on this side. “Except for yours, of course,” I clarify, bowing deeper.

“Of course,” he sneers. “Her mother wouldn’t have gone to these lengths to keep her from me if she wasn’t a true heir.” I feel, more than hear, his approach.

“Do you have any proof?”

“Yes,” I rush out, pulling the tank top from the pocket in my pants. “This was all I could get before I was caught, but you can have it verified.”

“Caught?” The accusation is clear in his tone, while he snatches the shirt from my outstretched hand.

“Well, she saw me scent the shirt, and I was grabbing for more evidence when she interrupted, but I was dressed like one of the security people, and I told her I was just moving her things so we could bring the equipment up for installation...” I trail off at the sound of his approach. I can sense the anger and impatience rippling off him, so I lower my head even further. “But I would bet my last dollar that it is her.”

“Bet your last dollar? What about your life, Mr Jerrilan? Because that is what this will cost if you are wrong.” The tips of his black shoes enter my narrow field of vision from this angle, and I know I am on a knife’s edge. He doesn’t make threats, only promises.

“Yes, sire. I would bet my life.” I firm up my voice and straighten my spine, even from my bowed position, not letting fear cloud my certainty. His kind, especially one as old and powerful as him, can sense every emotion.

“Very well.” I try not to breathe my sigh of relief too loudly as he walks back to the desk and presses the intercom buzzer. “Ms Lowell,” he says, when the secretary enters the room behind me a moment later, “it appears Mr Jerrilan has come through at last. Is everything in place at the school?”

“Exactly as requested, sir.”

“Mr Jerrilan here will give you all the details on his way out.”

Knowing that’s my cue to leave, I take a few steps backwards towards the doors before turning my back.

“Mr Jerrilan?”

I pause, but don’t turn back around.

“Your every moment, from leaving this office, is now for the sole purpose of watching her, protecting her, and keeping her on the path we have set. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sire,” I reply, bowing my head again and walking out of the office.

The curvaceous secretary closes the doors behind us and gestures to a seat in the waiting room we have returned to as she grabs her tablet from the desk.

“Tell me everything.”