Wrath's Storm: A Masters' Admiralty Novel by Mari Carr (desktop ebook reader .txt) 📕

one elbow on Jakob’s good shoulder and raised the other hand in a little wave. “Heya, Eric.”

Halt deinen Mund, Jakob thought, wishing Walt knew when to shut his mouth.

Out loud, Jakob muttered. “Mist.”

“Fleet Admiral.” Grigoris was the first to speak. From the way some people jerked in reaction, not everyone had recognized the massive blond man on sight.

Eric was wearing snow camo, the jacket unzipped to reveal a white T-shirt that was ripped in several places, but not bloody. In the doorway behind him, one of the security officers was grimacing and cradling his ribs.

Nikolett stepped out from behind Maxim and Grigoris, her eyes narrowed. “How did you get in here?”

“Where’s the psycho?” Eric countered.

“My security—”

“Is pretty good. I’m better.” Eric flashed a toothy smile at the Hungary admiral and Nikolett seemed to visibly swell with outrage.

“I will need a detailed accounting as to how you got in here. Wait, did you harm any of my people?” Nikolett’s words were sharp, forceful.

Eric’s smile melted away, and he took a step into the room, toward Nikolett. “He’ll be fine, and I wouldn’t harm any of my people.”

“Make no mistake, Fleet Admiral, these are also my people.” Nikolett paused, seemed to collect herself, and then smiled coolly. “We will come back to the issue of your breaking and entering—”

“No. You’re going to tell me where—”

“But first—”

“—so I can—”

“—thank you for accepting my gracious invitation.”

Though they’d been talking over one another, Nikolett’s last statement made Eric’s teeth click together. He took a second, glaring down at her.

“Your invitation?” he snorted, shaking his head dismissively.

She arched a brow. “Of course. You think it was a coincidence that you heard I was coordinating the investigation you went walkabout for? I made sure word would reach you.”

Eric’s face went blank with either surprise or shock. Then his eyes narrowed. All the hair on the back of Jakob’s neck stood on end. Around the room, those who had lowered their weapons when they realized who Eric was adjusted their grips.

If the fleet admiral attacked a territory admiral, where would loyalties lie? Jakob was very glad it wasn’t Dolph antagonizing the fleet admiral.

“While I understand grief can make people do illogical things, the Masters’ Admiralty needs you, so hopefully bringing Josephine’s killer to justice will ensure that you start performing your duties once more,” Nikolett continued.

“Talk about poking the bear,” Walt murmured low enough that only Jakob could hear.

Eric took another step, looming over Nikolett, who had to tilt her head back to stare up at him. When he took another half step, fully invading her personal space, Nikolett raised her hand, planted one finger in the center of Eric’s chest, and pushed.

“Back. Up.”

Eric scooted back maybe ten centimeters, no farther. “You and I need to have a private conversation, Admiral.” His voice rumbled, his tone so low Jakob almost couldn’t hear it.

Annalise was watching them with what appeared to be clinical fascination. Nyx had one eyebrow raised. Vadisk’s face was drawn in a grimace. He’d inched closer to Eric and Nikolett, so he and Maxim were about equidistant from them. If it came to a fight, either Maxim or Vadisk looked like they were ready to step into Eric’s path. Maybe together they’d be able to take the fleet admiral…

“I look forward to our private conversation, Fleet Admiral. There are some things I’d like to say to you also.”

“Watch your tone,” Eric rumbled in warning.

“There is nothing wrong with my tone.” Nikolett smiled, and it was a sharp, dangerous expression. “I’d suggest you watch yours. You’re a guest in my house.” Before Eric could respond, Nikolett turned her back to him, focusing on Annalise. “Dr. Fischer, please finish the briefing.”

Everyone was looking at Eric, who was staring at the back of Nikolett’s head with an expression somewhere between shock, irritation, and maybe admiration.

Walt leaned in. “Wanna bet on whether they fuck or kill each other?”

Jakob snorted—quietly—before saying, “Both.”

Walt’s laughter broke the tension in the room, even if it meant they got some uncomfortably intense looks.

Annalise stepped out from behind Grigoris, shooting a quick smile their way before clearing her throat and facing the room at large.

“Today’s interrogation is going to be focused on getting names and locations of any of her other victims. Given that she watches them for quite some time in order to plan the abduction, the maximum number of victims is most likely three per year. If possible, I’ll try to fill in some of those gaps, including asking her how she met Petro,” Annalise very carefully didn’t look at Eric, “whom she knew as Melech.” Annalise turned and looked at Grigoris. “If you could bring up the video?”

They waited while a large built-in cabinet was opened, revealing a bank of monitors with a massive screen in the center. A second later, the video feed from the safe room was brought up. Ava was curled on an air mattress under a blanket. She looked small and soft in her sleep.

“There are some other details I’m going to question her on, specifically, how she approaches the victims, and how she is able to transport them from one location to another. From the information we have from Zasha, we know some of this, so it will be a test to see if she’s answering me honestly. Are there any questions or suggestions before I start?”

Jakob stopped listening as people peppered Annalise with comments. He was looking at Eric.

The fleet admiral was staring at the screen, his face blank. Little by little, his expression started to shift. First, his jaw clenched so hard the muscle in his cheek was visible. His hands curled into fists, his shoulder and arm muscles seeming to swell.

When Annalise left the room, accompanied by Vadisk, the fleet admiral was still staring at the screen.

Jakob wasn’t the only one eyeing the fleet admiral. He wondered if anyone else had the feeling that Eric was like a kettle coming up to boil, the heat—his anger—increasing with each second that passed. He almost said something