Scarlet Assassin Read Free Page A

wearing it down through years of rubbing. Her mother’s words of love to her father knifed through her heart each time she read them. It was the only thing she had of her father and she treasured it more with each passing decade. Opening the other side, she gazed down at the painted face of her mother. She was beautiful and Selene never touched the portrait, fearful her touch would destroy the image and she would be lost to Selene forever. She was in the process of having a large painting made of the image, so she could see her mother every day without worry. Gently closing the watch, she slipped it into the safety of her vest pocket and picked up the phone to call the coven.
    After scribbling some notes on the pad, she checked off her client’s name and moved to her next item on the to-do list. Gaylord was going to be an exercise in patience. Selene wondered if she could handle talking to the pompous ass.
    “Gaylord, please,” Selene said, studying her notes.
    “Are you requesting to speak to the High Lord of the Eastern Coven?”
    “Are you serious?” Leaning back against her chair, she pulled her long dark braid from behind her and flipped it over the seat. Perhaps it was time for a haircut and a change? No, she didn’t do changes like that. She was who she was, for now.
    “I wouldn’t kid about the High Lord. For future reference, please refer to him as High Lord of the Eastern Coven, Gaylord Van der Plume.” The nasally voice demanded.
    Selene rolled her eyes.
    “Geeze, what a pompous ass.” A few more words were spat through the phone at Selene. Pulling it away from her ear, she yelled back, “I would like to speak to…oh fine. I’d like to speak to the High Lord of the Eastern Coven, Gaylord Van der Plume.” She listened. “What do you mean I need to make an appointment?”
    The voice on the other end gave her instructions to follow and then waited for Selene’s reply.
    “Fine, when is the High Lord available?” Scribbling frantically, Selene drove the tip of the pen through several sheets of paper in frustration. “Tuesday at nine p.m. is fine. Yes, I know how to get there.”
    She didn’t wait for the niceties of ending the conversation, slamming her cell phone closed. No, he couldn’t be like anyone else and conduct business over the phone. The way they clung to the antiquated ideas of old was infuriating. Now she would have to trek to the coven for a meeting with Gaylord Van der Plume. She knew why he insisted on a face-to-face. He wanted to exert some control over her but he was in for a big surprise. She wasn’t the old Selene.
     
    ****
     
    Rolling her eyes, she wished the bastard were standing close enough that she could choke the dead out of him.
    “Fuck. Really, Gaylord? Why do you make me go through all that pomp and circumstance bullshit every fucking time? Asshole.”
    “Ah, Selene. To what do I owe this pleasure? It’s been so long, you rarely are seen at the coven lately.”
    “Well, I’m not feeling a real connection to the old ways. Besides, you guys aren’t that relevant anymore.”
    “Perhaps not to you, but since you’ve left we’ve grown. Expanded into Central American, South America, and well, Africa’s been very good to us, too.”
    “Good for you, Gaylord. I want to talk to you about De Marcus.”
    “Butch.”
    “What?”
    “I hate Gaylord. Call me Butch.”
    “Seriously, Butch ?”
    “Much better, now where were we? What happened to you Selene? You were one of us.” Butch stood and walked around the massive brocade wingback. His fingers caressed it as one did a lover. “When you killed your master you came to us and became a part of the coven. We became your family.” He stood resting his elbows along the back of the chair.
    “That was a long time ago, Gaylord.” He flinched at her use of his given name. She did it to piss him off. Selene wanted him to remember she’d known him a long time and trying to lord over her wasn’t going to settle