The King's War

23. Abel

NATHANIEL

I stood in the elevator of the tallest building in Houston, Texas, feeling like I was getting closer to my execution with each passing floor. Two of my guards flanked me, but their presence gave me little comfort given what I was about to face.

The search for Avery has turned up empty, and the suspicion of Daphne Sinclair's involvement left me with few options. Knowing she was very likely working with the rebels was one thing, but proving it was entirely something else.

My investigation of the other suspects, the Bell family, had not given me anything to go on yet. Certainly nothing that would allow me to charge them with treason. All of their known properties had been watched closely, and I'd thought the lakefront cabin with a secret million dollar remodeling job would prove to be a lead. The Bells consented to a search of the place, but all I'd found was a rather spacious storm shelter stocked for a zombie apocalypse. Odd, but not incriminating.

Chase Colter turned out to be a dead end as well. Not only did he not fall for my bait, but he'd somehow managed to evade the team sent to survey him. It was as if he'd anticipated the move, laughing at my incompetence all the while.

What was becoming worryingly clear though, was the fact that the someone with a high degree of authority must be helping the rebels. Someone with inside knowledge of my movements and patterns. It was the only explanation I could think of for why they'd evaded me for so long. And of course, they had a powerful witch on their side, stacking the cards against me even further.

I'd been a fool to think Daphne Sinclair could ever have been my ally.

The elevator dinged its arrival. Dread coiled around me in a suffocating embrace. Was it too late to turn back?

No.

This was the only hope I had of ending the rebel menace and to find Avery. For that, I'd endure the humiliation I was about to face a thousand times.

I stepped out of the elevator into a spacious reception room with white marble walls and floors and swirling gold trim. It was garish, furnished like some excessively opulent Las Vegas casino. Ahead of me was an enormous set of double doors guarded by four stoic men in white suits.

I saw my nervous expression in the door's chrome plating and winced. Steeling myself, I walked forward to address the guards. "I've come to see His Majesty," I announced, wincing at the hesitation in my tone.

The guards barely acknowledge me before simultaneously pushing the door open and allowing me through. I walked past them into a long rectangular room with vaulted ceilings and tall windows that showed the glittering Houston skyline. The space was large enough to make my footsteps echo. A red runner with gold trim trailed across the room, ending in front of a white marble platform on top of which stood a marble desk. King Abel sat behind it, watching me with predatory eyes.

Abel Hudson looked like a World War II propaganda poster come to life. Blonde, strong-armed, lantern-jawed, and ready to give the Axis Powers hell. It was completely incongruous with his actual habits of draft-dodging and letting others do his dirty work.

"You are the last person I'd expect to see here, Bryce," Abel said to me, his voice echoing ominously in the cavernous space.

No, not after I had so thoroughly rebuffed him and his emissary. It must please him all too much to see me here, groveling for his help. Though Abel kept his expression composed, I could tell that he could barely contain his smug glee. Darren Frost certainly couldn't, when I'd contacted him to set the meeting up. Having to beg him for a second chance had been torture, and now I was in for a second round of humiliation.