Read Online Sons (Book 2) by Scott V. Duff - Free Book Online Page B

after his demise.  And even if I did, I would not take on his obligations.”
    “I was told you saved some portion of his Fae when he died,” Fuller explained.  “We thought that meant you had a place for them to live.”
    “I did take them and I do,” I said smiling at his grasping for understanding.  “My realm is not part of Faery.”
    “How can that be?” he asked, confused.
    “How can I be an elf-king?” I asked, shrugging.  “I plugged power into a world and it blossomed.  I was in Faery at the time and it was a Fae power—I have no other explanation than that.”
    Another flurry of waiters hit the room, this time carrying plates.  The smell of food started me salivating.  Lunch was a long time ago and on the plane.  When our waiter slipped a small plate down in front of me, I was disappointed and hoped this was a starter.  I hoped really, really hard.  Five slices of medium-rare steak rolled in cracked peppercorns wasn’t going to get me through the night, no matter how good it was.
    “That could be very problematic for us,” Fuller said, seemingly to himself, taking a bite and chewing slowly.
    “And why is that?” I asked, tossing back the last piece of meat and reaching for the wine, a red.  It would need to be a very robust wine to compete with the heavily peppered steak.
    “While MacNamara’s main concern was always his fights,” Fuller said cautiously.  “He did maintain a few sidelines, some trade, that a number of us availed ourselves to.”
    “Then I suggest you find other providers,” I said, probably condescendingly.  “I’m in no position to even think about trade right now, even if I had what you’re looking for, and there’s no way I’m continuing with that vile concept of gladiatorial games for entertainment.  I participated once only because I was forced to.”
    “And by all accounts, you did remarkably well,” Phillips remarked.
    “I had a lot of help there, too,” I said, turning to Phillips.  “And nearly lost my best friend because of it.  The only thing I have to be proud of there, Mr. Phillips, is that Peter left as my brother instead of a corpse.”
    “You threw the two first Princesses of Faery out of the Arena.  That is quite a display of power, Mr. McClure,” Phillips replied.
    “They were set to attack us, Mr. Phillips,” I said.  “I was faced with two choices: one, throw them out, or two, let them attack and have Ehran and Ethan kill them.  Which of the two do you think was the safest?”
    There was a mild shift of attention to Kieran and Ethan as a number of people considered my statement.  Could they have killed the Princesses?  Surely not.  Could they?  I heard Harris snicker softly behind me.
    “Also, why would I want to ‘display’ power?  That’s suggests to me that you believe me to be rather pompous, or maybe you believe me to be a puffer fish, growing bigger than I really am to fake out the competition?”  I sat back in my chair with my wineglass, swirling the bowl and watching Phillips panic.  Peter peeked around Phillips, grinning at me.
    “Seth,” he said, giggling a little, “You’re not just torturing him .”
    “Really?” I said and turned back to Mr. Fuller to see in a state of shock, not quite shutting down, but having difficulty picking from many paths.  The entire right side of the table continued eating, though Peraza kept track of the conversation when he could.  He was getting anxious about it, but Kieran kept him distracted.  “You’re right, Peter.  Mr. Fuller also seems to be confused about this.  I’m not terribly certain as to why, though, when it seems to me that Marshal Harris’ descriptions and suggestions were so on target.  ‘Amazingly honest and forthright’, ‘don’t play games,’ and ‘don’t be condescending.’  Simple rules of conduct.
    “Perhaps,” I continued, my tone light but still far too heavy with the sarcasm, “I am too young to recognize the