Page 79 of The Immortal’s Mark

“Hm…” I add the information to my notes app. “What about group two?”

“You, Alexander, myself, and two were-beasts will travel together, along with two members of the Nightsbane clan.”

My muscles tense. “Which members?”

“Jennifer and Mistress Lola.”

My face twists, but I brush past the unwelcome news. “What’s our group’s goal?”

“To scour locations for Adir. With the Nightsbane witches' heightened abilities, we hope they will be able to see through any advanced cloaking spells.”

“Hope?” I lift a brow. “We aren’t sure they can do it?”

“No one is sure of anything,” Gregory says. “This conflict is…unprecedented.”

“Of course.” I stare at my phone, re-reading the list of names. “Seven people. That’s our entire task force?”

He lifts one shoulder. “From what I’ve heard, yes.”

“That seems…small.” I set my phone in my lap and cross my arms. “I expected Thane to insist that an army travel with me.”

“He tried, but the Council does not want to draw attention. We want the world to believe you remain safely tucked away in this mansion.”

That makes sense. And I’m not about to complain. I’m glad I won’t be surrounded by strangers hell-bent on protecting me. I’ve had enough of that.

Then again…maybe I would appreciate the additional buffer between me and my mother.

It’s not surprising Jennifer Bane is assigned to my group. In fact, it would have been stranger if she wasn’t. But I don’t like that the woman has inserted herself into my life and my task force without even trying to talk to me.

Not once.

A knock at the door interrupts our conversation. One of the brothers’ employees rolls in a dining tray for lunch.

My stomach grumbles, but food will have to wait. Lying in the bed for half the day has left me feeling bleh. I want to clean up and change before doing anything else.

“I’m going to shower.” I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. “Feel free to start without me.”

Gregory grunts a noncommittal sound, eyeing the poor young man who wheels in the tray with unveiled suspicion. His fearful swallow echoes through the bedroom before I close the bathroom door behind me.

I make quick work of undressing, turn on the water to warm, then stare at myself in the mirror. My hair is a tangled mess. Dark shadows mar my eyes.

I sigh.

No wonder no one believes me when I say I feel better. I look terrible.

I turn away and test the water’s temperature before stepping inside the marble shower. I lather and rinse my hair twice and scrub my body just as many times. Once all the soap residue is rinsed away, I step out and wrap myself in a fluffy white robe.

I’m towel drying my hair when I leave the bathroom.

Gregory sits in the chair. Instead of eating, he’s holding a book.

I walk to the vanity table to retrieve the comb I left there and begin working out the tangles in my curls.

“What are you reading?”

“A Study of Scarlet.”

“Sherlock Holmes?”