Read Online A Bite's Tale: A Furry Fable by Veronica Blade - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Veronica Blade
Ads: Link
Cinderella, but I saw no point in arguing with either of them, for the moment.
“Maybe if they knew why you turned me, they’d back off,” I said.
“They want power,” my dad said. “I believe this is just an excuse to make war on us.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t believe that all werewolves are bad. We have some on staff here and they’ve proven themselves loyal.”
“As far as we know,” my father added.
“At this time, we can’t trust anyone, Remy,” Dunston said.
I ignored that and left my chair to pace the conference room. “We can’t demand saliva swabs from them and every werewolf in the area, unless you want to make these letters public and scare everyone on the island. It could cause unprovoked attacks on werewolves. I can help though, maybe get samples from the staff. You know, when they leave a glass around.”
My father nodded his approval. “Excellent. Between the three of us, we might come up with something. Meanwhile, Dunston, have the men continue following other leads.”
“While we wait, your solution to our problem is to throw a big party where anyone can come?” I sprung out of my chair and glared down at them. “Just make it easier for them to waltz in and take me out, Dad.”
His jaw clenched. “We will not put our lives on hold for terrorism.”
“You will be perfectly safe. Security measures have been taken,” Dunston assured me. “At least four of us will be watching you at all times and we’re doubling up on the cameras, which, of course, will be monitored closely.”
“Like I haven’t seen a million movies where the bad guys find a way to get whoever they’re after. Cancel the ball.”
“No. The connections we will make that night are too important. We can handle the terrorist.”
“And what if the terrorist is one of your connections?” I threw his own words back at him. “Then what? Too bad for me? You’ll bury my body in a gold casket and say I died for my country?”
“We’ve been dealing with threats for centuries,” Dunston said, rising from his chair to go toe-to-toe with me. “We’ll handle it, just like we always do.”
“Whatever.” I stormed out and slammed the door.
Fifteen minutes later, Dunston found me in the library. Books had always been my sanctuary. This time, I found my solace in photo albums of my mother.
Dunston remained silent, watching as the seconds ticked by. He knew I was aware of his presence. I had no plans to speak first. I refused to give him that.
“Remy.”
I kept my gaze on a photograph of my mother holding a baby, me, in her arms and smiling at the camera. She looked so pretty, so alive. I wondered if I’d meet the same fate — murdered, because someone had a vendetta against the king.
“We can root out the culprit or we can live in fear. But whatever we do, it will not involve cowering. We will not lie awake at night waiting for them to come. Nor will we alter our lives to accommodate them. And, very important: The first rule of staying in power is building a defense. We’ve done that. Next step is attack. The ball provides the perfect opportunity.”
My father had stayed in power for centuries, with Dunston by his side. I needed to trust that they knew what they were doing. They’d come this far.
“Each second that we worry about you, each moment that you pull us in another direction, each time you fight us…” Dunston shook his head. “Those are the things the enemy watches for. We mustn’t give them that opening. Anything we do, we must do as a team.”
I sighed, knowing my father and Dunston would never knowingly put me in jeopardy. “Okay, I’ll attend the ball. But make sure Cinderella is there or I’m locking my bedroom door and we both know that door is impenetrable. All the girls can dance with themselves for all I care.”
“If you don’t come downstairs to the ball, how will you know if she’s there or not?”
I met his gaze. “I’ll know.”
“Remy…”
“Maybe if they knew why you turned me, they’d back off,” I said.
“They want power,” my dad said. “I believe this is just an excuse to make war on us.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I can’t believe that all werewolves are bad. We have some on staff here and they’ve proven themselves loyal.”
“As far as we know,” my father added.
“At this time, we can’t trust anyone, Remy,” Dunston said.
I ignored that and left my chair to pace the conference room. “We can’t demand saliva swabs from them and every werewolf in the area, unless you want to make these letters public and scare everyone on the island. It could cause unprovoked attacks on werewolves. I can help though, maybe get samples from the staff. You know, when they leave a glass around.”
My father nodded his approval. “Excellent. Between the three of us, we might come up with something. Meanwhile, Dunston, have the men continue following other leads.”
“While we wait, your solution to our problem is to throw a big party where anyone can come?” I sprung out of my chair and glared down at them. “Just make it easier for them to waltz in and take me out, Dad.”
His jaw clenched. “We will not put our lives on hold for terrorism.”
“You will be perfectly safe. Security measures have been taken,” Dunston assured me. “At least four of us will be watching you at all times and we’re doubling up on the cameras, which, of course, will be monitored closely.”
“Like I haven’t seen a million movies where the bad guys find a way to get whoever they’re after. Cancel the ball.”
“No. The connections we will make that night are too important. We can handle the terrorist.”
“And what if the terrorist is one of your connections?” I threw his own words back at him. “Then what? Too bad for me? You’ll bury my body in a gold casket and say I died for my country?”
“We’ve been dealing with threats for centuries,” Dunston said, rising from his chair to go toe-to-toe with me. “We’ll handle it, just like we always do.”
“Whatever.” I stormed out and slammed the door.
Fifteen minutes later, Dunston found me in the library. Books had always been my sanctuary. This time, I found my solace in photo albums of my mother.
Dunston remained silent, watching as the seconds ticked by. He knew I was aware of his presence. I had no plans to speak first. I refused to give him that.
“Remy.”
I kept my gaze on a photograph of my mother holding a baby, me, in her arms and smiling at the camera. She looked so pretty, so alive. I wondered if I’d meet the same fate — murdered, because someone had a vendetta against the king.
“We can root out the culprit or we can live in fear. But whatever we do, it will not involve cowering. We will not lie awake at night waiting for them to come. Nor will we alter our lives to accommodate them. And, very important: The first rule of staying in power is building a defense. We’ve done that. Next step is attack. The ball provides the perfect opportunity.”
My father had stayed in power for centuries, with Dunston by his side. I needed to trust that they knew what they were doing. They’d come this far.
“Each second that we worry about you, each moment that you pull us in another direction, each time you fight us…” Dunston shook his head. “Those are the things the enemy watches for. We mustn’t give them that opening. Anything we do, we must do as a team.”
I sighed, knowing my father and Dunston would never knowingly put me in jeopardy. “Okay, I’ll attend the ball. But make sure Cinderella is there or I’m locking my bedroom door and we both know that door is impenetrable. All the girls can dance with themselves for all I care.”
“If you don’t come downstairs to the ball, how will you know if she’s there or not?”
I met his gaze. “I’ll know.”
“Remy…”
Similar Books
