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Too many.
The men in front of us turned, a dark mass of cargo pants and business suits. No one had expected this, not yet. They only needed a little more time; they weren’t ready.Weweren’t ready.
I glanced up and the vaulted ceiling seemed too far away, the crossing timbers creating lines and shapes that hurt my head. I had to close my eyes again, squeezing tight until the white washed walls from my vision were gone, until none of it remained. This was now. This was me.
Emily bumped me with an elbow and I nodded, shoulders straightening as I focused anew. I scanned the room, a large, open area with tables scattered near the outer walls. Narrow windows sat high on the walls to our right, the atrium apparently taller than the rest of the structure, and a massive arched entryway centered the wall opposite us, where Morgan and his men would be coming in. The wood floor stretched toward it, dark birch planks stained with age, giving the room the feel of money, of power.
The Council’s men and Division soldiers began to file in behind us. They knew what they were risking, what Morgan was capable of, and they knew the alternative, knew how it would end. The room was silent, each of them standing in wait as time crept away. He would be joined with the others now, all of them converging at once. It wouldn’t be long. Minutes. Seconds.
There was a shifting in the crowd, a subtle brush of cloth. The sudden intake of breath. I glanced at Logan, searching for an answer, and could see that he was listening, that some news was coming through the device. His fist tightened, the corner of his eye flinched. A few of the others, random faces in the crowd and men that I recognized from the earlier meeting, looked suddenly sick, or in pain.
“What’s happening?” Emily whispered.
“Westlake,” Kara said, her tone even and filled with fire.
Logan’s jaw flexed. A moment later he winced, reaching up to pull the device free of his ear and crush it in his fist. His gaze met Aern’s. It was over. That fast.
Brendan.
“Archer, front gate,” one of the Council guards shouted, and the crowd was suddenly back, fully alert and aware ofthis. Of what was had to be dealt with now.
I wondered at the use of Morgan’s last name, when he had become a faceless enemy. These men had been raised with him, led to be loyal, faithful to Morgan. But Morgan wasn’t that boy anymore. He was something else.
“Three minutes,” another voice called. The seconds ticked by.
Would he turn the others, collect more men as they went? Or would he save his strength, somehow knowing this was going to be the battle that counted.
I pulled my hand from Emily’s, whispered, “Stop sweating.”
She smirked as I wiped it on my jeans. “It’s you.”
I tightened my grip on her, tried again. Aern stood slightly in front of her, ahead of us all, his eyes only on the door. He owed Morgan, and I could feel how ready he was to have this done, to make things right.
And then it was there, the steadyclick, click, clickof the waiting guards, their weapons dropping to the ready.
