Page 87 of Twist of Fate

Sent.

A moment later, it changed again.

Delivered.

Luke placed the phone on the table where all three of them could see it.

No one spoke.

Then the final notification appeared beneath the message.

Read.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The word remained beneath the message.

Read.

Somewhere in the human world, the man who had sent Luke to the warehouse now knew Luke had survived what happened there.

“He has seen your message,” Connal said.

“Yes.”

“Then why has he not answered?”

Luke leaned back in the rolling chair, leaving his phone untouched on the table. “Because men who control other people’s time enjoy making them wait.”

Tyson glanced over from the security monitors. “That has also been my experience.”

“My king has never required such games to establish his importance.”

“No,” Tyson said. “His crown generally handles that for him.”

Luke’s mouth twitched, but his gaze remained on the phone.

Connal wanted to take Luke back to the Unseelie. The message had been delivered. Remaining inside the human building gave an unknown enemy more time to find them, and every minute spent waiting asked Connal to trust defenses he could neither feel nor understand.

The conference room itself offered little reassurance. The table was too flimsy to provide meaningful cover, and the single door gave them only one route into the larger office. Even the windows beyond Tyson’s desk looked across a stretch of concrete filled with human vehicles instead of offering a useful view of the surrounding streets.

Connal crossed to Tyson. All three security feeds showed no changes. Zer stood near the elevators, his arms folded as he watched the empty corridor. A faint flicker near his shoulder marked Avaneel shifting beneath his hair. Keir had positioned himself beside the second stairwell, while Asterius paced the parking entrance with increasing impatience.

None of them had encountered a threat.

That did not mean one was not coming.

“How long can you conceal our location?” Connal asked.

“The protections will remain effective until we leave,” Tyson said. “Whether anyone is actively attempting to trace Luke’s message is another question.”

“Can you determine that?”

“Not without revealing more about this network than I am willing to expose.”

Connal disliked the answer. He respected it anyway. When he returned to the conference table, Luke had not changed position. Only the movement of one thumb against the edge of his chair betrayed how much the waiting cost him. Connal stopped behind the chair. He wanted to stay close enough to protect Luke, but standing over his mate would accomplish nothing except make Luke feel watched. He pulled out the neighboring chair and sat.

Luke glanced toward him. “Getting comfortable?”