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A smile tried to form on Baer’s lips. “I’m sure Dane has thought about it.”
“And that poor guy gets left at home because he’s the only one who can heal everyone. We lose Dane, and the Circle is fucked.” Wiley pressed his fingers to Baer’s lips when he started to open them to speak. “But there’s no benefit to leaving me at home. I can do more good in the field with you.”
Baer sighed. Grabbing Wiley’s hand, he gently pressed a kiss to each fingertip and then his wrist. “I know. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hate the idea of you being in danger.”
Leaning in, Wiley brushed his lips across Baer’s. Warmth and love seeped into Baer, pushing away the worry and fear. There was an underlying confidence within Wiley that also intrigued Baer.
“You have a plan in mind, don’t you?” Baer asked. Worry crawled up his spine like a spider.
Wiley’s wicked grin returned. “I do. And I’m pretty sure you’re going to hate it. Clay’s probably going to hate it too.”
“But?”
“I think it could seriously work. We could get rid of Ardette and a whole lotta pestilents in the process.” Wiley placed his hands against the couch and used it to steady himself as he got to his feet again.
Baer grabbed his hand as he attempted to walk away. “Wait. You’re not going to tell me?”
“I figured I’d tell everyone at the same time. You know, so I only have to convince people once.” Wiley pulled on Baer, getting him to his feet again.
“You don’t think I could convince you that your idea is insane?”
The artist scrunched up his face as if in thought, but Baer could feel his bubbling amusement. “Nah.”
Baer rolled his eyes and allowed himself to be pulled out of the game room and down the stairs. The sound of Wiley counting the stairs softly under his breath was oddly reassuring. Some part of Baer had started to internalize that process, using it to peel away his own anxieties, so that by the time they reached the ground floor, he was feeling centered again.
They found everyone in the kitchen. Lucien and Grey were seated at the breakfast table with mugs of coffee in front of them while Clay was in the middle of making a fresh pot. Dane was standing in front of the open refrigerator, frowning at the contents. While the bonding ceremony had been a happy moment for the brotherhood, the attack on Ruby and the threats from Ardette had cast a perpetual pall over the plantation house. No one was much interested in food or even laughing.
“Oh crap,” Grey muttered, reaching for his mug.
Wiley’s hand shot out, and he pointed at the Soul Weaver. “Keep it to yourself. You have to at least let me do my pitch.”
To Baer’s surprise, Grey nodded and took a sip of his coffee.
“What pitch?” Dane asked. He closed the fridge door without pulling out any food and walked over to the center island. He bent, resting his forearms on the counter, giving Wiley his full attention.
“I was thinking about Ardette and how we can possibly handle her,” Wiley said. He moved to the center island opposite of Dane, putting him in a position so that he could easily see everyone in the room while Baer stepped back, allowing his man to take center stage.
“Whaddaya got?” Clay asked. He leaned against the counter closest to the coffeemaker and folded his arms over his chest.
Wiley’s eyes darted over to Baer for a second, and Baer flashed his man an encouraging smile. Baer had a feeling he was going to hate whatever was about to come out of Wiley’s mouth, but he supported him. If he had a good idea for this fight, then Baer was going to cheer him on. Wiley smiled and took a deep breath as he looked over at Clay again.
“Well, I was thinking that we know her MO at this point, right?”
“You mean how she prefers to call in a horde of animals to tear us apart,” Lucien chimed.
“She’s definitely lighter on the use of pestilents,” Clay agreed. “We don’t know if it’s because we slaughtered so many when we fought Cor that they’re running low, or if she’s just saving their people while burning through animals.”
“Yes, she uses a lot of animals,” Wiley said, seizing control of the conversation again. “Rats weren’t a big deal in Savannah—”
“Speak for yourself,” Grey grumbled. He shivered once, gripping his mug with both hands as if he needed it to warm himself after the memory. “Disgusting.”
“Of course, but the snakes at the plantation were much more dangerous. Then she made a bold appearance here again, bringing lots of coyotes. Each time she’s upped the ante, proving that she can attack us with bigger and more dangerous animals.”
“What the hell does Georgia have that’s bigger than coyotes?” Lucien said in a huff.
