Page 120 of The Defiant Curse

When she didn’t answer, he got worried.

“I don’t like that,” he said. “Mom, are you thinking of breaking up the family?”

She sighed.

“No, but I am thinking of walking away from the FBI. When Ethan wanted to, he did. When he wanted to try his hand at being a Shaman, we all stuck around. I don’t want to threaten anyone, but I’m tired, Michael. Something has to give. I need someone to take care of me, too. Being the raven whose job it is to carry everyone on her wings is exhausting.”

He knew why she was so tired.

Wyler’s chemo.

Chris’ HIV.

They had a brood of children.

A full-time job—or three.

Plus, helping everyone find their way...

Elizabeth had more on her plate than all of the men, and they all knew it. Now, they’d have to help her carry that burden, or the woman they knew might not be the woman who came back to them.

“And that’s okay,” he said. “If you’re done, you’re done. You’ve worked for the FBI for how long?” he asked.

She considered it.

“I was twenty-five when I was recruited to start there after college, and I’m turning fifty, so…”

He was to the point.

“You earned that reward, then, Elizabeth. Make that twenty-five-year mark, and call it quits. There’s nothing wrong with that—or maybe give up a job. Just be the Deputy Director. Let the division you created carry themselves.”

She laughed.

“I’m a control freak. I’d rather do that job and say fuck being the boss. Only, we know that’s not happening.”

No, it wasn’t.

Gabe made sure of that. The irony was he was going to leave office in the next three years, and she’d still be trapped in the job he’d tricked her into.

He was a dick like that.

As they pulled into the parking lot in the village, he found a parking spot. When he’d pulled in and turned off the vehicle, he pulled a hat from his pocket. After passing it back to her, he pulled his cell from his pocket and texted out a message for the castle security.

For whoever showed up to see it.

“We are going to get some food. Have something to eat, put some weight on, and heal. You’re entitled.”

She said one thing.

“I hope you’re right.”

Taking the hat, she tucked all of her hair up under it, and put on some sunglasses. She was not wearing makeup, so she hoped the au natural look would help her blend in. The media always got her in makeup, or wearing lipstick, but never freckles out, and just being herself.

That’s why she picked these clothes out of Gabby’s things. It was the least likely outfit she’d wear. The last thing she wanted was to put on cowboy boots and jeans—not that she had any there with her.

That was her signature look.

And a dead giveaway.