Page 60 of Property of Prophet

The moment Blade starts toward the porch, Lily moves.

With no hesitation, she takes two measured steps, the rifle coming up in one smooth, practiced motion. It isn’t aimed directly at Blade, but it wouldn’t take much to make it so. Her stance is balanced, her shoulders squared, every instinct she possesses focused on the strangers approaching the man she’s spent weeks keeping alive.

Blade doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t challenge her.

If anything, I think he expects it.

He reaches the bottom of the steps and lifts his eyes from the rifle to Lily’s face, holding her gaze without posturing or attempting to assert his authority. He lets her see him, allowing her the opportunity to decide for herself whether he poses a threat.

After a long moment, he speaks, “He told me what you did. Getting him down from that ridge. Keeping him alive these past few weeks...”

Lily doesn’t answer or lower the rifle.

Blade inclines his head the barest fraction. “That counts.”

Lily’s expression doesn’t change. But I know Blade. Coming from him, she may as well have just been patched in.

“Didn’t do it for your approval.”

“Good.”

Her rifle doesn’t move. “Then why tell me?”

“Because I wanted you to know I owe you anyway.”

Lily studies him. “I don’t collect debts.”

“Neither do I...” He pauses a beat. “But I pay mine.”

I watch Lily carefully. Anyone else would miss it, but I’ve spent enough time with her to recognize the smallest shifts. The tension doesn’t leave her shoulders completely, but something eases.

Slowly, without taking her eyes off him, she lowers the rifle. Not because she’s been told to, but because she’s decided she no longer needs it.

We go inside because there’s a briefing to run, and Flint has been carrying enough research to fill a small library since the call went out two days ago.

That is what Flint does.

The rest of us prepare for a fight by checking weapons, planning routes, or making sure everyone comes home alive. Flint prepares by reading everything anyone has ever written on the subject until there isn’t a question left to ask. By the time the rest of us realize we’re facing something new, he’s usually halfway through explaining it.

Lily’s cabin was never designed to accommodate seven supernatural men and enough books to stock a university, but somehow we make it work. The Kings have never been particularly good at taking up less space than they naturally occupy. Yet, years of sharing cramped safe houses, caves, abandoned cabins, and military barracks have taught us how to fit where fitting shouldn’t be possible.

Ranger, back in human form now, claims the narrow stretch of wall between Scout and the window without complaint, his broad shoulders making the already small room feel even smaller. Scout doesn’t sit at all. He drifts toward the nearest window, instinctively checking sightlines before settling into a position where he can watch both the clearing and the room without turning his head.

Fury stations himself near the fireplace, not because he’s cold. I’ve never known Fury to be cold a day in his life, but because the heat rolling off him keeps the cabin comfortable for everyone else. Rooster leans against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest, looking for all the world as though he’s only half listening, yet I know he’ll hear every word spoken in the room.

Vex remains standing.

He always stands.

I’ve asked him why more than once over the centuries.

He has never answered.

By the time I have crossed the room, Flint has already taken possession of Lily’s dining table. He doesn’t ask permission, simply relocating her coffee mug to the kitchen counter with an absent-minded apology, spreads three ancient texts across the timber, adds a folder thick with handwritten notes and photocopied pages, then opens one of the books to a section he’s already marked with colored tabs.

Lily watches the entire process in silence. She doesn’t seem offended that he’s quietly rearranged her kitchen. If anything, she looks faintly fascinated. I suspect she’s already reached the same conclusion the rest of us did centuries ago.