Finally, Wrath dragged a hand through his mile-long black hair. “If she wants to see him outside of here, that’s none of my business.”
Vishous opened his mouth to argue, and then shut his trap. This was better than a flat-out no, and who knew what the future held: If V could evolve to a place where, even after The Shower Nightmare, Manello remained aboveground and breathing, anything could fucking happen.
“Fair enough.” He resealed the pouch. “What are we going to do about Xcor?”
“Wait until the Council calls a meeting about him—which will be in the next couple of nights, no doubt. The glymera is going to eat this shit up, and then we’ve got real problems.” In a dry voice, the king tacked on, “As opposed to all our half-assed ones.”
“You want the Brotherhood up here for a meeting?”
“Nah. Give ’em the rest of the night off. This is not going away.”
V stood, pulled on the robe and gathered up his smoking para. “Thanks for this. You know, about Payne.”
“It’s not a favor.”
“It’s a better message to carry back to her.”
Vishous was halfway to the door when Wrath said, “She’s going to want to fight.”
V pivoted around. “Excuse me.”
“Your sister.” Wrath put his elbows on all the paperwork and leaned in, his cruel face grave. “You need to prepare yourself for when she asks to go out and fight.”
Oh, hell, no. “I’m not hearing that.”
“You will be. I’ve sparred against her. She’s as lethal as you and I are, and if you think she’s going to be content prowling around this house for the next six hundred years, you’re fucked in the head. Sooner or later, that’s what she’s going to want.”
Vishous opened his mouth. Then shut it.
Well, he’d had a rockin’ good time enjoying life for about . . . twenty-nine minutes. “Don’t tell me you’d allow it.”
“Xhex fights.”
“She’s Rehvenge’s subject. Not yours.” Wrath’s brows made a third disappearance. “Different standard.”
“Number one, everyone under this roof is my subject. And two, it’s not any different just because she’s your sister.”
“Of course”—It. Is.—“not.”
“Uh-huh. Right.”
Vishous cleared his throat. “You’re seriously thinking about letting her—”
“You’ve seen what I looked like after we worked out, right? I was giving her no leeway at all, Vishous. That female knows what she’s doing.”
“But she’s . . .” My sister. “You can’t let her go out there.”
“Right now, I need as many fighters as I’ve got.”
Vishous put a hand-rolled between his lips. “I think I’d better go.”
“Good idea.”
The second he was out and had shut the door, he flicked the gold lighter Fritz had given him and inhaled like a Dyson.
As he thought about his next move, he supposed he could flash back to the Commodore and deliver the happy news to his sister—but he was more than a little afraid of what he’d materialize into. Besides, he had until dawn to convince himself that Payne out in the field was not an Edsel-like idea.
Also, he had someone else he had to see.