Shadow's End (Elder Races #9)

In terms of sheer strength, Liam could also overpower any of the sentinels, although that didn’t mean the boy could take any of them in a fight, since the sentinels had age, cunning and experience on their side. Not that any of them fought Liam in anything other than a carefully controlled training exercise.

Intellectually, the boy’s reading was at college level, his math skills were off the charts, and the gods only knew how good his truthsense was, or any of his other senses, for that matter. Sweet-natured as he was, much of him remained a mystery.

So Graydon ruffled Liam’s hair affectionately and told him a version of the truth. “Sorry, I got lost in thought. Everything’s as normal as can be. Wanna listen in for a minute?”

The boy’s gaze sparked with interest. “Sure.”

Graydon said into his mic, “Watch your language, folks. I’m putting a guest on the line for a few minutes.”

Even though the security detail’s channel was encrypted, hackers were a constant concern, and nobody used real names over the comm link. Still, everyone knew the identity of Graydon’s visitor.

Alexander, the pegasus, was the other sentinel on duty that night. His rich, warm voice came down the comm link. He sounded amused. “Roger that.”

Graydon removed his headset and handed it to Liam. “If you just hold it up to your ear, I’ll be able to hear it too.”

His eyes wide with fascination, Liam nodded. He held the headset up to listen to the security detail.

Propping one booted foot on a railing, Graydon crossed his arms over his knee and surveyed the surrounding area as events unfolded like clockwork. He nodded to himself in satisfaction. He liked an evening that held no surprises.

All the rooftops of the neighboring buildings had been checked and cleared, and the last team member had settled into place. Eighty stories below, on the ground, a crowd of paparazzi had formed along the sidewalk that bordered the front steps of the Tower. Legally, the sidewalk was as close to Cuelebre Towers as the paparazzi were allowed to get without an express invitation to a press conference.

Graydon’s smartphone buzzed in the front pocket of his jeans, a short vibration that indicated he had received a text message or an email. He ignored it for the moment, as he gave the rooftops of the surrounding buildings one last, narrow-eyed check.

Three blocks away a sleek, black limousine turned a corner. Dragos and Pia were arriving right on time. The limo pulled to a smooth stop at the front steps of the Tower.

Hugh, a gargoyle Wyr who alternated between acting as Liam’s bodyguard and a member of Pia’s personal security team, stepped forward to open the rear door. Bending slightly, he held out a hand in invitation.

Slender female fingers grasped Hugh’s. Graydon might be eighty stories away, but his sharp gryphon’s eyes picked up the brilliant flash of diamond on the woman’s ring finger.

First Pia’s long slender legs emerged, then the woman herself appeared as she climbed out of the car, her gleaming pale blond hair piled high on her head. She wore a silver sequined dress and a luxurious-looking white faux fur stole, and she shone like a slender pillar of white fire in the night.

Immediately following Pia’s exit, her husband Dragos poured out of the limo, nearly seven feet tall and three hundred pounds of hard, muscled male, the most lethal Wyr predator in the world.

The white shirt of his tux emphasized his dark bronze skin, straight black hair and piercing gold eyes. Several of the paparazzi took a step back, their instincts telling them that danger walked in their midst. They were the smart ones of the bunch.

Their instinctive caution didn’t stop them from doing their jobs. Lights exploded from cameras all around the couple, and Dragos turned his face away. His expression looked hard and bored. He hated having his picture taken.

Pia and Dragos climbed the steps and disappeared from Graydon’s sight as they stepped into the building. The paparazzi’s attention splintered. Individuals wandered in different directions, several talking on cell phones. With a near silent, collective sigh, the security detail outside relaxed.

Alexander said, “Stand down. That’s a wrap for the night.”

Graydon held out his hand for the headset, and Liam handed it over.

“Nice work, everybody,” Graydon said into the mic. “The kitchen will be serving a late supper for the next hour. Chef said there would be prime rib in the cafeteria for people who pulled security duty tonight.”

A flurry of good nights came down the link.

Liam grinned at him. “One of these days I’m gonna be on one of those details.”

“Yeah?” Graydon returned his grin. “One of these days, you might be leading one.”

“Cool.” Liam fell into step beside him as he strode across the rooftop, heading for the staircase. “Can I have some prime rib too?”

Earlier that evening, the two of them had polished off an extra-large pepperoni pizza while watching old Hammer House of Horror episodes, but the boy was a bottomless pit.