SIXTY-TWO

Some eight hundred miles to the south, on a tract of land that was serene and largely uninhabited, emissaries from the King arrived at a destination that knocked their socks off.

As Saxton, the King’s solicitor, re-formed, he looked around and took a deep, easing breath. “Oh, this is beautiful.”

His beloved mate, Ruhn, materialized beside him and echoed his sentiments. “This is…astounding.”

They each reached for the other’s hand at the same time—and then they stayed where they were, letting the gracious landscape sink in. Up ahead, under a fat moon in a balmy sky, a lovely old white house sat at the culmination of an allée of live oaks. With porches on both the first and second floors, and black shutters, and a hip roof, it was a Southern lady of gracious extraction.

“So he knows we’re coming?” Ruhn said.

“Well…I wouldn’t go that far, precisely.”

When Saxton went to walk forward, his love pulled him back. “Murhder does not know we’re here?”

“I sent him a letter.”

“And his response was?”

“I didn’t actually get one.”

Ruhn was largely a placid and loving soul, a gentle giant with a heart of gold who had lived through more pain and suffering than Saxton could ever understand.

The male was not a pushover, however. And as those caramel eyes narrowed, Saxton held up his free hand. “We have to do this. It’s the law.”

Ruhn’s eyes returned to the house’s lineup of darkened windows. “I don’t like this.”

“I have to inform him of the inheritance. Come, let us approach.”

They walked straight up the center of the allée, and as they proceeded, Saxton had to wonder why anyone ever volunteered to sit through Caldwell’s winters. If he didn’t have his position with the King, he would most certainly spend time down here.

Although…their old farmhouse was incredibly quaint, with its cheery fires in the fireplaces, and cozy quilts to cuddle under—and the opportunity for Ruhn to play plumber under that faulty kitchen sink.

There was nothing better than a male who knew how to deal with pipes—

Twin red laser beams hit both of them in the chest—directly at sternum height—and froze them in their tracks.

There were only two things in the world that would make that sort of optical effect. And one had to assume that nobody would be bothering with a laser pointer this late at night…toward two strangers who, technically, were not invited to be on the premises.

On the second floor, a light came on, illuminating a tremendous shadow that stood in what was an open window.

“You’re trespassing,” came a low, evil voice. “And I don’t like people on my land.”

Saxton cleared his throat as both he and Ruhn lifted their hands. “We come in peace. We are here to see Murhder.”

There was a long pause. “You’re the one that sent the letter.”

“Yes. I am Saxton. I am Wrath, son of Wrath, sire of Wrath’s solicitor. This is my mate, Ruhn. We have arrived here to inform him that he has come into an inheritance—”

“I don’t want it.”

Saxton glanced down at his own chest. “Would you consider lowering your weapons? This is a bit unsettling.”

“No, I won’t. And I don’t want anyone’s money.”

“Then will you kindly sign the documents I sent in my letter renouncing it—”

“My signature is no good.”

Saxton recoiled. “Why?”

“I’m insane. Haven’t you heard. The insane cannot consent, we do not legally exist.”

Excellent point. But let us not get hung up on technicalities, Saxton thought to himself.

He took a deep breath. “Forgive me, but you do not sound crazy.” Although the male was threatening to shoot two perfectly innocent people—so how balanced could he be? “And I am required to see this through. It’s my job.”

There was a long period of silence. “Tell your King that I will sign those papers, but only if he sees me personally. I want to meet with him. I think it’s about time.”

“Once again, forgive me, but this is not a matter usually handled in such a fashion. The King doesn’t—”

“Those are my terms. You know where to find me. If Wrath will see me, I will sign the papers. Now go. Before I decide to indulge my need for target practice.”

Saxton measured the sheer heft of the shadow in the window. Backlit as the male was, there was no telling what the face looked like—although he was fairly certain that the hair was long, and yes, the size of the body was definitely that of a Brother.

Saxton bowed low. “I will inform the King of your preference, and I shall be back in touch. Perhaps if you would like to give me a number where I can—”

“I am old-fashioned. I prefer parcel post—or FedEx, I believe is what you used. You can communicate with me that way. Now get off my property.”

Saxton glanced at his love. “Let us go, the now,” he said under his breath.

“Yes,” Ruhn agreed readily.

As the two of them dematerialized for the first leg of the trip back to Caldwell, Saxton’s only thought was that this did not bode well.

This did not bode well, at all.