Wrath's Storm: A Masters' Admiralty Novel Mari Carr (great books of all time .txt) 📖

you, and that was not nearly as alarming as Eric showing up covered in blood in the middle of the night.”

Jakob made a mental note to check if the Spartan Guard, the poor, cursed bastards whose job was to protect the fleet admiral, had sent a cleanup crew to deal with whatever had left Eric bloody. He doubted they had, since no one in the Masters’ Admiralty, except now himself and Annalise, knew where Eric was.

Of course, technically, he no longer knew.

And then he remembered that Eric had forbidden him from telling the Spartan Guard—actually anyone in the Masters’ Admiralty—that he was here.

“I’m the reason we were in danger,” Annalise insisted quietly. “I’m the one he was after.”

Walt nodded as if he understood but shifted just enough to shoot Jakob a quick look. Odd that he understood exactly what Walt was asking—Do you know what she’s talking about?—when they’d only met yesterday.

Jakob had so much he wanted to say to her, so many reassurances he wanted to offer.

You owe no one an apology. You are strong and brave and wonderful, and someday I’m going to kill the man who’s tormenting you. I will kill him and make him real and mortal, not the dark, terrifying monster I know you see in your dreams.

Out loud, he said. “It wasn’t him.”

Annalise’s lips trembled. “You don’t have to lie to me so I don’t feel guilty.”

“I don’t lie.” That was a fat lie.

Annalise blinked and then her shoulders straightened, and she tipped her head ever so slightly. “Everyone lies, Jakob. I know you’ve sat in on that particular lecture at least once.”

He could have cried with relief at seeing her looking so controlled and composed. Looking like, sounding like, herself.

He would never say it aloud, but he wished he’d known her before. Before the trauma of the stalking, and then her sister’s attack, had robbed her of her self-assurance and confidence.

“Not him,” Jakob said again.

Annalise studied his face, and then her expression relaxed ever so slightly, but she didn’t just take his word for it. “How do you know?”

“There were three, maybe four people. Watching us.”

Annalise’s eyes widened. “That many? And you’re sure they were after us?”

“When you went into the kitchen, they stood up,” Jakob replied.

“If there were that many of them, shouldn’t they have been able to catch us? I mean we weren’t walking that fast.”

“We took evasive measures.” Jakob didn’t think he needed to go into more detail than that, but she also had a point.

“Or they weren’t interested in us and followed Eric,” Walt suggested.

That was what he’d been thinking.

“We need to tell someone,” Annalise said.

“Can’t.” The fleet admiral had expressly forbidden it at their first meeting in her office.

“Who do you think was following us…well, him?” Walt asked Annalise. “The people he mentioned? Someone else? Or is it top secret, secret society stuff?”

Annalise didn’t tighten up or retreat the way Jakob expected her to. Instead, she turned her attention to Walt. “You are not a member of…”

“Of the Masters’ Admiralty? No. But my sister is. She’s married to a knight in England. Guy’s name is Lancelot Knight and he sometimes carries a sword, if you can believe it.”

Annalise’s lips twitched.

Jakob grunted.

Walt made a face. “Crap. What’s the German word for knight?”

“Ritter,” Annalise said cheerfully.

“Aaaaand that’s what Eric called you. Sorry, man. Oh shit, wait. You had a sword, didn’t you?”

“He did.” The longer they spoke, the more Annalise came back to life, shaking off her earlier shock.

Jakob stared at Annalise. She was clearly enjoying this, her humor, her genuine happiness something he’d only caught brief glimpses of. She grinned at him and his heart skipped a beat.

“I was jetlagged. That’s my excuse for not taking note of that fascinating detail,” Walt declared. He shook his head in apparent amusement at himself.

Jakob admired Walt’s entertaining, while self-deprecating, manner of speaking. His calm assurance and confidence might have come from being a doctor, might just be who he was, but it meant he had no problem making fun of himself.

They were all quiet for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward, especially when Walt slid from the ottoman to one of the other chairs, leaning back and sighing.

Jakob looked at them. The fact that Walt was sitting in the chair where he’d always pictured their shadowy, mysterious third was making him feel odd. Not bad, not good. It was a feeling he didn’t fully understand, and so he couldn’t name it.

It was winter, and though the heat in the house was on, Jakob turned to the fireplace, taking a few minutes to stack wood and then using a starter log to get it going quickly. Walt had his head back, his eyes closed. Jakob took a breath, and then went to the kitchen to make coffee. He didn’t exactly like leaving Annalise alone with the other man now that they were out of the crisis situation, but after watching the American doctor take care of her and put her at ease, he found he could accept it.

Several minutes later, he returned with a tray including a French press waiting to be pressed, cups with saucers, delicate cut-glass sugar and creamer set, though the creamer had some non-dairy shelf-safe stuff in it, which was all he had in the house at the moment. He really needed to make time for a trip to the store.

“Cooffffeeee,” Walt moaned, sounding rather like a zombie from a horror movie.

Jakob retreated to the wall, ignoring his desire to kneel and pour out the coffee, to take care of her, and of Walt, by providing for them. It was Walt who depressed the plunger on the French press and poured coffee into each of the cups.

Jakob drank his black, Annalise added a little of the cream, and when she was done, Walt dumped half the sugar into his own cup.

Annalise and Jakob both stared at Walt, her in amusement, him in horror. Annalise hid a smile behind her cup, shook her head gently, and finally sipped.

The fire