Humphrey smirked in spite of himself and thought of the film projector Ophion had given him following his last Chicago visit. Ophion had arranged for Humphrey to take part in a surgery and filmed the experience. Humphrey had taken care to ensure no copies had been made by his wily colleague. “Can’t say which I prefer. Until now, I’ve only had my journals to refresh my memory. It’s hard to watch yourself on screen like that,” he admitted.
Ophion’s chuckle came through the phone line. “You’ll get used to it. That is, if the fever strikes you again.”
“I’m sure it will.” Humphrey could feel his fingers tingle in anticipation of another such opportunity. Cutting into human flesh had been an experience unlike any he’d ever known. “Can’t say how long it’ll be until I’m able to travel again for pleasure.”
“I understand, given all your brother is doing to hinder our endeavors.”
Humphrey snorted. “Stone’s a gnat.”
“Gnats can be irritating,” Ophion countered. “Especially when they have friends.”
“An irritation is all they’ll ever be until they’re dealt with.”
“Irritations can become distractions.”
“Enough, already?” Humphrey put up a wide palm as if to quell the other man’s abundant arguments. “I want this too much to let anything stop it. I’ve wanted it since I realized what it could lead to.”
Ophion’s voice was tighter when it next drifted through the phone line. “I advise you not to forget what I said about hate. What we could accomplish there would be greater than any childhood hurts.”
Humphrey sat on the edge of his desk to take in the midtown view from his office window. “Why don’t you go back to work on that weird contraption of yours and I promise to work on my childhood hurts.”
Ophion’s laughter resounded through the phone.
~6~
“Hell, I thought we got rid of that thing?”
Aaron grinned in response to Rena’s outburst. He hefted the grievance file he had been going through for the last 20 minutes.
“It’s lost some weight since we sorted through all your complaints-um, suggestions,” Aaron rephrased when Rena shot him a threatening look.
“I’d like to try clearing out some of the other concerns,” he thumbed through the much thinner folder.
Rena’s gaze remained narrowed but her smile was all approving. “Ever the white knight,” she said and moved behind the desk to shuffle his dark waves.
“Dammit Rena,” Aaron muttered and shrank away like an aggravated little boy even as he laughed. He stood and went to the mirror fashioned over the modest bar cart a short distance away.
Rena settled to the vacated desk chair and watched while Aaron drew both hands through the adorable tousle of his hair. “Relax,” she chuckled out the word. “You’re still irresistibly gorgeous.”
Aaron’s brow quirked, his mouth curving downward. “Obviously not irresistible enough.”
Rena’s dark eyes adopted a rarely seen softness. “Giselle likes you a lot, but she loves your brother.”
Aaron sighed, turned from the mirror. “My brother loves her a lot and I believe he’ll be good to her, I do, I just-”
“You just wish she was marrying you.”
Aaron’s guilty smirk lasted only a moment. “It’s not even that.”
Concerned, Rena leaned forward in the chair to rest her elbows along Aaron’s desk.
“My family’s in a messy place right now,” he laughed harshly. “My family’s always in a messy place. The things Hump and Vale said to Imani were unforgivable. Pitch had to deal with that kind of mess every day he spent in my mother’s and brothers’ presence. Rome had every right to want to beat them to death for it. I’d feel the same if it was Giselle they’d insulted. Which...I supposed they did without even knowing it.”
Rena settled back in the desk chair. “They really seem to love her, you know?”
“Because they think she’s something she’s not.”
“But she looks the part.”
“Rena do you expect me to believe there aren’t people who hate her for that?”
Rena stiffened. “Are you saying that you think your family could treat her as badly as they have Pitch? That they’d feel that way despite knowing what an angel she is?”
“I guess that’s what I’m saying, yes. I’m also saying that I’m afraid I’d want to see them dead for it and that I’d succeed in making it happen. And Rena, that shit scares me more than anything.”
~7~
“Good to see you again, Son.”
“Good to see you again too, Sir,” Roman met Chief Hilar Kamande’s firm handshake with his own. Silently, he celebrated the accomplishment since he felt like a pool of mush inside.
Together, he and Imani had taken the long walk from the bridal tree to the main house. The elder Kamande were out for the evening, but there was no shortage of greeters. Roman received a warm welcome from Imani’s attendants and even from those among the security teams who recognized him from their time in Chicago. When Roman wasn’t shaking hands and being welcomed to Mozambique, he was standing in awe of the breathtaking home.
Now, it was a new morning and he was standing in the presence of the Chief. For Roman, meeting Hilar Kamande on his own turf took being overwhelmed to new heights. Only Imani’s hand tucked securely through the bend of his elbow, steadied him, rooted him.
The Chief stepped back and drew a hand toward the diminutive woman at his side. “Roman Tesano, my wife Isis.”
“Mrs. Kamande,” Roman wasn’t sure of the proper protocol but bowed his head anyway just in case such deferment was expected. He took the woman’s hand delicately in his, applying the slightest squeeze before releasing her.
