She was the favorite of Titus Flavius Vespasianus. There were those who said she would be Titus’ queen one day. She was my bargaining chip. My last checkmate move in a match that would clear the board without war and death.
Gods help them; she was scheming something!Meryn picked up her walkie-talkie. "Gamma Kitten One, Gamma Kitten One, this is Menace come in, over."
Beth looked over at Byron who started to rub his chin and smile. He knew she was up to something, too."Menace? Why are you using the radios?" Sascha demanded."Gamma Kitten One, you didn't say over. Anyway, I was letting you know that me, Papa Bear and friends, Bunny, Wheels, Pretty Boy, and Baby Girl will heading your way, over."
"Like fucking hell you will! Listen to me Menace, stay put! It's dangerous here!"Beth could just imagine the veins in Sascha's forehead sticking out.
"What was that Gamma Kitten One? You're breaking up. We're on our way. Menace over and out." Meryn clicked the walkie-talkie off before turning to Byron.
"I assume you approve."Leo’s human delegation was gathered in the entry, watching on the security cameras as two human males drove up, parked, and stepped from their two-seater antique vehicle. It was the same two who were trying to come ashore when the Robere twins disappeared to hunt Grégoire. They were clothed in black, with purple shirts and ties, with black umbrellas shielding them from the rain.
Wrassler murmured, Royal livery. But more important, where in the world did they get a Daimler in New Orleans? George?A 1935 Straight Edge, Bruiser replied. And I have no idea.
I looked at the car on the screens and back and forth between the two males. I had no trouble believing that Bruiser was a luxury car nut, but Wrassler was a surprise. He struck me as more of a sports car kinda guy, or maybe a muscle car from the sixties, basketball and beer, baseball and hot dogs.Outside, the two humans walked through the storm, up the stairs, and into the airlock with its laminated bulletproof polycarbonate glass. They passed through the entrance’s X-ray device, which was part of the security upgrades I had instituted since I came to work for the MOC. The glass had been replaced several times in the months I had been here. Bulletproof glass didn’t always offer the protection one might think. The emissaries stopped and, on the X-rays, I got a good look at the weapons they carried—plenty—and at the men themselves. Beside me, Bruiser talked with Raisin, the oldest human living at HQ, on the in-house coms system.