Read Online Ebony Fight (The Guard Duet Book 2) by Natalie Herzer - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Natalie Herzer
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fixed Sli, unblinking. Even Melissa and Thea fell silent. When he moved once more towards the reception desk, Sli felt the women’s unease at being this close to the Arbitrator’s new object of attention. Like mice spotted in a corner of a kitchen, they stayed as still as possible.
Sli didn’t take her eyes off him.
This time no words were exchanged with the receptionist. Apparently they were not needed. Two sets of eyes now on her - one curious, the other judging - Sli watched as Sally handed over another file. The Arbitrator flicked through it, pausing here and there, before he turned to Sally and nodded.
“Number 141 009 in office 9.”
Protests started.
A look from the Arbitrator was all it took to make them die quickly as he entered office number nine once more.
“What did you do, girl?” Thea gasped in shock.
“You don’t want to know,” Sli answered calmly as she got up and walked away without so much as another glance at the women.
The glass walls turned a milky shade the moment the door closed behind her. The Arbitrator sat as straight as an arrow behind the most dominating piece of furniture in the room, a black desk. Nothing was out of place; files and documentation stacked in neat towers on the side.
Indicating the lonely chair in front of his bureaucratic throne, he invited, “Sit down, please.”
Sli did as he asked, knowing it would be polite.
“Okay, then.” His hands folded over her open file, the Arbitrator went on, “Tell me about yourself.”
III
PLAYING WITH FIRE
“In the end there doesn't have to be anyone who understands you.
There just has to be someone who wants to.”
- Robert Brault
NINE
Stone looked up when he heard Becca coming down the stairs. Still busy drying his hands on a towel, the first thing he noticed was her healthy glow and the fact that she was steady on her feet. Probably some witchy stuff’s doing, he guessed. A sacrifice or two and witches were good as new in no time.
“So, where are we headed?”
Becca stopped in her tracks, an odd expression on her face. “You did the dishes?”
Slightly caught off guard, his gaze returned to the empty sink. “Yeah. Why?”
He lived alone and was used to housework. Besides, Stone preferred his apartment neat; everything in place, with weapons hidden throughout and easily accessible in case an unexpected guest stopped by.
“Because.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and just stared at her, not in the mood to repeat himself.
“We’re going fishing,” she said.
“Fishing?” He looked her over, took in the dark green dress, short jacket and brown boots. It suited her, he admitted, but it didn’t strike him as the optimal attire for the kind of recreation she had in mind. Besides, didn’t she have more important things to do? The do-gooder stuff and all that?
“Fishing.”
The sly smile on her face made him wonder what exactly she was up to. It was all the explanation Stone got before she grabbed her keys and blew past him, out the back door. Although annoyed that he was left with no other option than to follow her like a dog, he felt a spark of curiosity.
Once outside, he took in the bright sunlight, then the big trees and shadows they cast. Optimal conditions for an attacker to lie in wait. Fortunately for him, with the course of events, he hadn’t needed to stalk her backyard but had been taken right into her home. A hint of a smirk on his lips, he turned and looked on. The witch’s house was simple and looked after. A fresh coat of paint wouldn’t be wasted, he thought. His thoughts stopped in their tracks when he noticed the driveway and VW bus. Sky-blue on white. It may have suited her, but to him it was not practical or optimal, especially if the witch needed to lay low or escape. However, that was not really his concern.
Turning away, he followed her down a slight slope and along a dirt path leading them into what he assumed to be the bayou. Automatically his mind started drawing
Sli didn’t take her eyes off him.
This time no words were exchanged with the receptionist. Apparently they were not needed. Two sets of eyes now on her - one curious, the other judging - Sli watched as Sally handed over another file. The Arbitrator flicked through it, pausing here and there, before he turned to Sally and nodded.
“Number 141 009 in office 9.”
Protests started.
A look from the Arbitrator was all it took to make them die quickly as he entered office number nine once more.
“What did you do, girl?” Thea gasped in shock.
“You don’t want to know,” Sli answered calmly as she got up and walked away without so much as another glance at the women.
The glass walls turned a milky shade the moment the door closed behind her. The Arbitrator sat as straight as an arrow behind the most dominating piece of furniture in the room, a black desk. Nothing was out of place; files and documentation stacked in neat towers on the side.
Indicating the lonely chair in front of his bureaucratic throne, he invited, “Sit down, please.”
Sli did as he asked, knowing it would be polite.
“Okay, then.” His hands folded over her open file, the Arbitrator went on, “Tell me about yourself.”
III
PLAYING WITH FIRE
“In the end there doesn't have to be anyone who understands you.
There just has to be someone who wants to.”
- Robert Brault
NINE
Stone looked up when he heard Becca coming down the stairs. Still busy drying his hands on a towel, the first thing he noticed was her healthy glow and the fact that she was steady on her feet. Probably some witchy stuff’s doing, he guessed. A sacrifice or two and witches were good as new in no time.
“So, where are we headed?”
Becca stopped in her tracks, an odd expression on her face. “You did the dishes?”
Slightly caught off guard, his gaze returned to the empty sink. “Yeah. Why?”
He lived alone and was used to housework. Besides, Stone preferred his apartment neat; everything in place, with weapons hidden throughout and easily accessible in case an unexpected guest stopped by.
“Because.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and just stared at her, not in the mood to repeat himself.
“We’re going fishing,” she said.
“Fishing?” He looked her over, took in the dark green dress, short jacket and brown boots. It suited her, he admitted, but it didn’t strike him as the optimal attire for the kind of recreation she had in mind. Besides, didn’t she have more important things to do? The do-gooder stuff and all that?
“Fishing.”
The sly smile on her face made him wonder what exactly she was up to. It was all the explanation Stone got before she grabbed her keys and blew past him, out the back door. Although annoyed that he was left with no other option than to follow her like a dog, he felt a spark of curiosity.
Once outside, he took in the bright sunlight, then the big trees and shadows they cast. Optimal conditions for an attacker to lie in wait. Fortunately for him, with the course of events, he hadn’t needed to stalk her backyard but had been taken right into her home. A hint of a smirk on his lips, he turned and looked on. The witch’s house was simple and looked after. A fresh coat of paint wouldn’t be wasted, he thought. His thoughts stopped in their tracks when he noticed the driveway and VW bus. Sky-blue on white. It may have suited her, but to him it was not practical or optimal, especially if the witch needed to lay low or escape. However, that was not really his concern.
Turning away, he followed her down a slight slope and along a dirt path leading them into what he assumed to be the bayou. Automatically his mind started drawing
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