She’d been in this line of work long enough to know that evil people were often the most cowardly. They wept, moaned, and screamed when faced with the same horrors they inflicted upon their victims.
Isvana-damned bastards.
“Yes, ma’am.” Brynleigh tucked a lock of hair behind her ear even though her stomach was cramping. “He lived a dishonorable life, and he died in the same manner.”
“I see.” Jelisette canted her head and studied her progeny.
She drummed her nails on the desk, thetap, tap, tapthe only sound in the office.
Even though Brynleigh was used to her Maker’s oddities, the knowledge that this behavior was somewhat normal didn’t ease thetension coursing through her. Every part of her was on edge as minutes dragged on.
Brynleigh needed to leave. Quieting her instincts and forcing herself to remain in this place of death was becoming more difficult by the second.
Eventually, the drumming ceased.
Another long minute later, Jelisette placed her palms flat on the desk.
“Do you have anything else to report?” She studied her manicured nails.
Brynleigh’s shadows thrummed, and she drew in a deep breath. “I had a thought. About the Representatives.”
When Brynleigh had first arrived, her Maker had launched into a tirade about the ruling class. Jelisette’s hatred of the Representatives seemed to be getting worse with each passing day.
Honestly, some of Jelisette’s points made sense, but Brynleigh would never admit to that. She’d think about them later when she was safe.
Her Maker bristled, dragging up her gaze.
Darkness gleamed in Jelisette’s eyes as she snarled, “What about them?”
Brynleigh’s heart thundered. Her neck ached in remembrance of the last time she stood in this office, and tears rushed to her eyes as she recalled the sensation of death coming for her, but she forced those emotions away.
Even though she hated this place, she couldn’t show that right now. Tears would be seen as weakness, and she couldn’t break down in front of Jelisette.
“I’m sure many Representatives will be at the Reunion. I know there were several mentions of planning an attack for next month, but if we,”—Brynleigh fucking hated using that word and associating herself with the rebels—“attack the Reunion, it would be devastating.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
In the same monotone tone she’d used when describing Josef’s death, Brynleigh laid out why this plan would work.
When she was done, she closed her mouth and waited. She ignored the creepy painting, ignored the sensation of death sweeping over her, ignored everything except her Maker.
Please let this work.
Brynleigh wanted to bring good news to her fae captain.
Ten excruciating minutes later, the older vampire nodded.
“That’s… not a bad idea. I’d have to speak with Dimitri…” The drumming picked up, and a faraway look came over Jelisette’s eyes. “Yes. I like this. Did you come up with this plan on your own?”
“Yes,” Brynleigh lied.
A raised brow. “Good girl.”
Shivers ran through Brynleigh at her Maker’s praise, and her stomach churned. The need to leave was stronger than ever.
Jelisette waved her hand in the air. “You may go. I have an appointment. I trust you can see yourself out?”
“Of course.” Thank Isvana, the first part of Brynleigh’s plan was over. “Before I leave, could I grab a book from my room? I left it here before the Choosing.”