10

“Brother, you promised!”

Cora’s whine barely tore Mason from the work laid out before him. Her glossy black hair was swept into an elegant braid. The silvery gray of her eyes was emphasized by feathery pink accents at the creases of her lids and thick, black lashes. Her simple gray gown was meant to ease nerves rather than entice, meaning she expected to do something work-related soon.

“Promised what again?” he asked.

Huffing, Cora placed her hands on her very full hips, pushing one out to the side in a manner that most men found endearing. Being her brother, he found it highly annoying.

“To go to the luncheon with me at the Forstmaus residence.”

Mason screwed his face in discontent and traced the long line of a yard stick across the expanse of paper covering his desk. “Key Guardian Forstmaus?”

“Yes.” Cora crossed her arms over her chest and tapped a foot. “I really needed this luncheon. She has refused to sit with me since the Julinas scandal, and I need her testimony for my article.”

Lifting a brow, Mason regarded his frustrated twin. “Would that be the scandal where you disappeared with the hostess’s husband, or the one where you were found with the host’s brother-in-law?”

A bright flush blossomed across her ivory cheeks. “Hostess’s brother, promised to her best friend.”

Mason raised his charcoal pencil. “Ah, yes, that’s right. The best friend wasn’t Key Guardian Fortmaus, was it?”

Her foot stopped tapping. She shifted her shoulders and looked to one of his drawings on the wall. “No… her sister.”

Sighing, Mason returned to laying the foundation of a map, the latitude and longitude lines. “And my sister needs to learn seduction is an art, not an obsession.”

“I do believe I’ve mastered that particular art.”

“You mean worn it out,” Mason muttered, applying another sweeping line.

“We can’t all have high moral standards like you, brother,” she snapped, her silvery eyes flashing.

“No one ever said I did. I just don’t want to end up a mindless rabid animal. I’d rather prefer if you didn’t either.”

“I told you…”

Mason waved a coal darkened hand. “Cora, I don’t care how careful you are, you have no way of knowing about the secret lovers. If you find it exciting to dodge bullets, I can have Katria stand you in the middle of her range. You’re playing with the same odds.”

She worked her jaw. “You’re just embarrassed by me.”

“No, that would be our mother.”

A flicker of shame crossed over her beautiful face. “About the luncheon.”

Sighing again, Mason stopped before applying another line. “What about it?”

“I need you.”

“Why?”

“She has a…” Cora waved her hand in the air. “Thing for you. If you’re there, she’ll likely answer my questions so she can stare at you and drool. My saying I’d bring you was the only reason she extended the invitation. I can’t show up alone.”

“I’m working.”

“Not work mother would approve of.”

“We’re such a disappointment to our matriarch.”

“Truly is sad. I weep for the perfectly plotted future we’ve destroyed.”

Mason hid his smile and shook his head. “You’re terrible.”

“Says the man who’s broken her heart not once, but three times over refused contract promises.”

Annoyance at the reminder of his mother’s many failed schemes to see him married and continuing the Kynhaven held rank, and Dandridge line, had him growling. “I’m not marrying some nit-wit with a pedigree to keep lines pure. No such thing. We’re a country built from many nations on the brink of extinction. Some have been rewarded, many have not. Reward does not equal good breeding. If I marry, she’ll be of my choosing.”

“Of that, we agree. Now, lunch.”

Mason held up coal-stained hands and offered a look of mock apology. “Little dirty sis, sorry.”

She found a discarded ball of paper and launched it at him. “You are so infuriating!”

“Take someone else. With the donkey she’s married to, I doubt she’ll care who’s sitting next to you.”

“She wanted you.”

Mason tsked and settled another line across the paper. “Many do, they’re always so sad. I can’t please them all.”

Another paper ball bounced off his shoulder. “Oh come off it, you don’t please any of them.”

Leaning on the desk, he pointed his pencil at her and glared. “I’ll have you know I can be very pleasing if I wish to be.”

“Sure, I’m extra satisfied with my brother’s attention at the moment. I can only imagine how your lovers have fared.”

Mason grimaced. “I wish you wouldn’t. That’s just gross and wrong.”

A shriek of frustration sounded before she stomped her foot. “How did I get stuck with you as a twin?”

“I don’t know, bad genetics?”

“I swear, I—”

A throat clearing stopped her words cold. Mason glanced up to see their butler in the doorway. “Yes, Tybalt?”

“Key Guardian Asherwick is here to see you, with the lovely Miss Seartavos. Do you wish them to be shown in here, or the parlor?”

Mason glanced down at his smudged clothing and blackened hands. “Here is fine, at least I’ll look in place. Thank you.”

Tybalt bowed quickly and retreated. The flush returned to Cora’s face and she quickly glanced at her simple gray cotton gown, chosen for an interview, not to impress. Mason flexed his jaw.

When he spoke, his words were laced with warning, and anger at knowing the direction her thoughts had headed. “I will be the one who is swearing if you attempt to challenge Miss Seartavos. She’s a foreign heiress, Cora, not someone you have to compete with for the affections of a man.”

Tybalt reappeared and with a sweeping motion of his arm and ushered the hesitant couple into the small, disorganized space that served as Mason’s study. Jonathon entered with a quirked brow, while his promised stopped in the doorway, her gaze leaving nothing unseen.

“My, I have heard artists are colorful with their space.” Her words were musical and elegant, like the woman speaking them. Mason didn’t correct her assumption he was an artist. Neither did anyone else.

He did however find himself staring, and had to quickly ensure his mouth wasn’t hanging open. A gown that faded from brilliant pink at her shoulders to rich red around her feet, enveloped and moved like water around her voluptuous frame. Sun-kissed hair fell in graceful waves around her shoulders and face, pulled back at the sides and adorned with ribbons, beads and small colorful feathers. Her vivid aquamarine eyes were a startling shade against her golden skin. Bracelets decorated her wrists, but none more prominent than the thick silver promise band, ensuring everyone knew she belonged to someone.

Jonathon motioned for her to come the rest of the way into the room, closing the door behind her. “I think, Sylphine-love, it’s more this particular artist doesn’t like anyone in his space to clean it.”

“Correct,” Mason said, putting his attention back to the paper before him, where his eyes were safe, and not on the woman whose beauty was almost painful to look upon.

“Ah, much like you and your office at Enforcement Services,” Sylphine said with laughter.

“Yes, exactly, and I haven’t misplaced a case yet, so there must be something to be said for messy work spaces.”

Her beautiful eyes twinkled as she took a seat Jonathon waved to before the desk. “I will have to trust your judgement.”

“My judgement has never been in question. Yours however…” Jonathon laughed when a pretty blush swept up her cheeks.

Despite the play between them, Mason noticed neither touched the other and Sylphine never reached out to greet Mason. When Jonathon did, Mason wiggled his very artistic hands. Jonathon nodded and then took a seat beside his bride-to-be. Mason snuck a sideways glance at his twin, who’d for the first time in her life managed to become a wallflower. Whether intentional or not, she made no move to change her situation.

“So,” Jonathon began, leaning forward and grasping his hands between his knees. “You said you had some files for me to look over?”

Mason set the pencil down and wiped his grungy hands on his pants before reaching for the stack of files Kevin had left for him. “Yes. These are files of men who’ve been working with Enbrackon for shipping through Guardianess Raiventon. Kevin suspects they’ve all been fraudulent. None of us are sure how to go about proving that.”

Jonathon sighed and accepted the stack. “That’s more an Investigative Division thing than what I handle. I’m local violent crime.”

“And see, that’s why you’re here.” Mason gave a shallow smile. “However, I know you have a particular interest in the unknown shipment that went missing. I think some answers might be in those files.”

Jonathon flipped open a file. “I think we can agree we all have an interest in that missing shipment. But what makes you think someone Guardianess Raiventon worked with was involved.”

“Off record?”

Cora’s back straightened. Mason shot her a glare that said what his mouth didn’t. This applies to you too, sister.

Jonathon glanced up. “I figured by now any conversation with you and the rest of Wintersfall’s Guardian team is off record.”

“This is really off record. I told you I don’t want to drag you into anything that could cost you your job. And this is definitely one of those things.” Mason braced his hands on the desk and fixed a serious stare on Jonathon. “You can tell me to continue or allow you to remain blissfully unaware.”

Jonathon heaved a long sigh. Sylphine angled closer to him, but made no gesture to reach for comfort. “I see.” He slid his gaze to his beautiful promised and quirked a smile. “Still thankful you came with me?”

“And miss all the excitement? Your sister is like one to me, but I have not figured out how she remains cooped up in your house day after day. I need sun, and the, how do you say…” Her forehead scrunched in thought as her hand waved, considering a word beyond her reach. Then she smiled. “The hum of conversation, even if I am not part of it. Continue. You are brave, you will be fine, regardless of what Primary Guardian Kynhaven has to say.”

Mason raised his brows.

Jonathon rubbed his fourth finger across his temple. “How can I argue with that? Apparently I’m brave, so on with it.”

Mason quickly shared the details of Raina’s likely assistance in the theft of medicine bound for Italyssa.

Distressed, Sylphine touched her hand to her chest and gasped. “Why would she do this?” Hurt and horror danced in the Italyssian heiress’s eyes.

“She didn’t do it of her own free will.” Mason held his hands open, hoping she’d understand. “In fact, had her husband arrived even two seconds later, I think Asherwick would have a new case to handle and we’d not be having a civil conversation about it.”

Somewhat placated, Sylphine relaxed in her seat. A mask of calm settled over her face. “Do you know why they wished to steal medicine from my country?”

Mason crossed his arms over his chest. “As a means of payment maybe? I haven’t had an opportunity to study her maps, they may give me some insight.”

Jonathon turned a paper and didn’t glance up when he added to the conversation, “Comparing shipping manifests will yield greater results.”

“Likely,” Mason agreed. “But I can’t be seen at the records department asking for manifests. None of us can, too risky. Know anyone on the inside that’d be willing and who’s trustworthy?”

Slowly Jonathon shook his head, attention still on the file before him. “No, not at records. Mostly old cranky widows who work there. While I’m sure most of them are trustworthy, they don’t like to do more than what’s required. I ask for documents well before I may actually have use for them.”

“I know someone.” Cora had the undivided attention in the room. She smiled. “Not an old biddy, and not someone who will run their mouth. And, I’m there all the time asking for any number of odd documents. I can throw some manifests into my queries. Just make sure they aren’t any you want to draw attention to right away. I recommend saving the trouble makers for when you’re sure they’ll be worth the potential fallout.”

Jonathon frowned. “The files could be flagged.”

Cora inclined her head. “Yes, and depending on who flagged them, an inquiry must be reported.”

Mason met his sister’s stare. “Can you ask if they’re flagged before they’re pulled?”

“Maybe.” Cora tapped a finger against her chin. “I’ve never worried about it before now, but this particular friend has no interest in seeing me in trouble. Won’t hurt for me to see before I hand over the list.”

Mason clapped his hands in anticipation. “Excellent. Maybe we’ll finally start to have some answers.”