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WHEN JETHRO AND Indy entered the house Townsend was at the table, finishing a letter.
“Bruno needs to deliver this.” The reporter put the paper in an envelope, sealed it and handed it to his Guard.
“To Hugh?” asked Jethro.
“No. The one who’ll deliver it to Hugh. I’d rather not involve anyone else but it’s necessary.”
“There’s no way I’m letting your Guard leave, alone with a letter that I haven’t read.” He had no desire to be killed or captured by the AC.
“Open it if you want. I can reseal it.”
Jethro did. The letter requested Hugh come to Townsend’s house as soon as possible. He handed it back to Townsend who resealed it.
“I’m still not letting him go alone.”
Bruno could get help and he didn’t have enough of his Guards for a fight. Plus, if the authorities found out about this Townsend’s kids would pay the price.
The little boy burst from the bedroom and raced into the kitchen. His mother and sister right behind him.
“Daddy, don’t. Don’t do it.” The boy stopped by his father’s side.
“Libby, take him back to his room.” Townsend gently pushed his son toward his mother but the kid dodged her hands.
“Daddy, please don’t do this. If you turn in Hugh the war will end and we’ll lose.”
“That’s not true,” said Townsend.
“Don’t lie to me. I’m not a baby. That’s what you’ve been saying for a long time and it’s the truth. I see the news. I listen when you have your meetings.”
Townsend shot his mate a confused look but she was just as puzzled.
“There’s a vent in the pantry,” said the little girl. “We go there and listen to you in your office.”
“Shut up, stupid.” The little boy shot her a glare. “Now, they’ll close the vent.”
Townsend knelt in front of his son. “Doma, I’m going to treat you like an adult now. Okay?”
The boy nodded, his face grave.
“I don’t want to turn Hugh over—”
“Then don’t.”
“It’s not that simple. If I don’t”—Townsend pointed at Jethro—“that man will turn us in and the authorities will kill us. All of us.” He nodded toward his mate. “Your mother, me”—he pointed at his daughter—“your little sister, and you.”
The little boy looked at his sister. His face uncertain for the first time since he’d entered the room.
“I don’t care,” said the little girl. “Let them kill me. If we win the war then other girls like me won’t have to hide in their homes. They’ll get to go to school even if they have claws and fangs.”
Townsend faced his daughter. “LeeLee, I can’t let that happen. You’re too young to understand.”
The little girl moved to stand by her brother and grasped his hand.
“She’s right.” Doma turned toward Jethro. “Take me away. I don’t care. I shouldn’t have to pretend to be different. I shouldn’t have to have my teeth filed down just to have friends.” He opened his mouth, showing his damaged fangs.
Jethro looked away. This wasn’t what he wanted. He’d never turn them over but he couldn’t say that.
“I’m sorry, but I won’t let them hurt either of you.” Townsend gave the kids a quick hug and stood. He turned to his mate. “Libby.”
She grabbed each child by the arm and began dragging them down the hallway.
“Daddy,” wailed the boy. “Don’t do this, please.”
Townsend handed Jethro the note. His eyes haunted. “Go with Bruno and deliver the message.”
Suddenly, the paper was torn from his hands. The little girl ripped it into several pieces. Her mother was still struggling with the boy.
“Bruno, get LeeLee.” Townsend went back to the table and started writing another letter.
He stared at the paper on the floor. His gaze moved up the little girl’s frame until he looked her in the eyes. Bruno picked her up but she continued to stare at him, anger, hatred and frustration marring her petite features.
“Stop. Okay. I can’t.” He headed toward the door.
“Don’t. Please.” Townsend ran after him, grabbing his arm. “They’re just children. They don’t understand.”
“But they’re right. I’m not going to say anything about you and your family or even your business with Hugh.”
“Really?” Townsend’s grip tightened.
“I won’t say a word and neither will Indy.” He pried the reporter’s hand off his arm. He needed to get out of there. He needed to drink, forget Trinity, forget Hugh, forget how everything he’d ever been told had been a lie and how stupid he’d been for believing it.
Townsend’s mouth dropped open. “I...I owe you more than I can ever repay. If you ever need anything. Anything.”
There was nothing Townsend could give him now. There was nothing he’d ever want again, except... “There is one thing.” He strode across the room and into the study. He came back out carrying a couple of bottles of liquor. “Now, we’re even.”