Free 4 - We Are Gathered by Jackie Ivie

of long polished tables, large impressive chairs, rows of military-clothed guards, and one ancient-looking white-haired fellow who watched her, while his arthritic hands toyed with the dragon emblem topping a cane.
    “I see you’re still human,” he said, finally. “That leaves us a certain quandary, and terribly disappoints Garrick. He really excels at taking out pairs.”
    He tapped the floor with his cane twice and one of the guards stepped forward, turning into a tall Swede that probably resembled the mythical Norse god, Thor. He moved to stand at the right side of the old guy. His fatigues didn’t hide much. No wonder Elizabeth had gushed. The guy was every bit as gorgeous as she’d described. Muscled. Fit. Emotionless. Deadly. He looked like he didn’t lose arguments, once he made them. There was a silver-embossed broken-heart emblem just above his left pocket. Three ribbons protruded from it. That wasn’t at all comforting.
    Rori struggled to sit upright and faced them, solemnly regarding the old guy with the same expression he wore. The silk spread out over her knees, hiding any tremble. She ran a finger along thread-work that resembled a flower and stem. The craftsperson had been an artist. She’d never worn a caftan before, because in her opinion only shapeless old ladies did, but if she had to start now, at least it was a beautiful example of one.
    “We waited until the sun set, just to be certain. You do understand, don’t you?”
    “You talking to me?”
    “Bravado gets you points, Miss Rori. That it does. But not here. And not now. Do you know who we are?”
    “Hunters.”
    “Exactly. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Core General, Lord Beethan, Esquire.”
    “You’re the leader of this thing, then? Because I expected somebody a bit younger. You know…more virile. ”
    “In part. There are other Lord Generals.”
    “Like Van Helsing?”
    “A fictional character, Miss Rori, but had he existed, he’d have been long gone and buried by now. We’re human. We die.”
    “Some sooner than others,” she remarked.
    There were a few chuckles from the groups behind him. He smiled, too, and that put a myriad of lines into play that swallowed everything except his eyes. They had help from the huge white bushy eyebrows, though.
    “But before we do, we turn the reins over to our replacements.”
    “You mean like Thor over there?”
    Garrick lowered his chin and glowered at her. Or something of that nature. The guy didn’t have one bone in his body devoted to levity. And it showed.
    “Garrick is a lieutenant, not a leader. But I have a grandson. He’s getting trained. He’ll be ready when it’s time if he finishes his VidWar challenge.”
    “He’s playing a video game? That’s what you call training?”
    “In addition to his other sessions, yes. We just added it.”
    “Video games aren’t real. They do nothing more than waste time. I know. I’ve had a few boyfriends with the addiction.”
    “We used to think that, too, Miss Rori, but we got reeducated. Last season. In Colorado. But that’s old history.”
    “And you would know,” Rori quipped.
    He sat up a bit straighter. She could almost hear the creaking as he moved, but that was just fantastic thinking. All she needed was a bit of freedom and a little room. And her powers back. And Tristan. Rori gulped. She’d pretty much banished Tristan until she called for him, and that wasn’t happening. But perhaps, since it was evening again, she’d have a bit of power back. Or whatever gifts his tainted blood had given her. She’d just have to play it by ear and see what happened.
    “I’m in a very good state of preservation, my dear. Especially for my age.”
    “Don’t make any recommendations on your plastic surgeon to me, then.”
    There were a few more chuckles from the others. Lord Beethan’s smile widened. “I like you. I’m rather glad we were in time.”
    “In time for what?”
    “To keep you human. Know how I can