Free Bad Grace (Watcher Chronicles Book 1) by N.P. Martin Page B

whiskey?” he asked Frank, even though he was half way through pouring the second glass.
    “Are there any other drinks?” Frank said as he looked around the room. “Good to see you’ve gotten used to all this discomfort. It must be hard.”
    “You still living in that wooden shack on a mountain side?” Leland walked over, handed Frank his drink. Frank dreaded to think how much the whiskey in the glass cost.
    “It’s a cabin, not a shack. And I like the fresh air. Year’s spent in this place does that to you.”
    Leland shook his head, went and sat on the designer red couch, next to an ornately carved coffee table that Frank knew wasn’t a coffee table at all, but an ancient altar of sorts that the Celtic Druids used to sacrifice children on. “I prefer the filtered air in here myself. No toxins.”
    “Not in the air anyway.”
    Leland gave Frank a tight smile. “Tell me again why you’re here, Frank? I thought you were an independent operator these days.”
    “I am.” He tasted the whiskey. Damn. Pure nectar. If he could think of no reason to be head of the High Council before, he could definitely think of one now.
    “I thought you made yourself clear the last time you were here. You wanted us to leave you alone. We did.”
    “I know,” Frank said nodding. “I was just wondering why the Council hasn’t taken an interest in what’s happening in the city. There’s a demon gang stealing souls, turning people into one man murder shows.”
    “We’re already aware of that. We’re looking into it now.”
    “Really? Just looking into it?”
    “What do you want us to do, Frank? We only just found out about the whole thing. Rest assured, the demons responsible will be dealt with.”
    Frank began walking around the room, mainly because he knew Leland hated people doing that. It made it harder for him to brow beat them when they weren’t standing in front of him. “Are you aware, Leland, of the ritual used to steal the souls?”
    “Yes, I’m aware of it. It isn’t one that’s used often.”
    Frank turned to face him. “And why is that, Leland?”
    Leland’s knowing gray eyes narrowed at Frank for a moment. “You obviously have something to say, Frank. So say it.” He placed the whiskey on the coffee table altar, without having drank a drop.
    “You must know about the feather, Leland. The archangel feather needed to do the ritual.”
    “What about it?”
    Frank smiled, shook his head, and wagged his finger at Leland. “Nice try,” he said. “You’re forgetting I know you, Leland. You make sure you know every last thing that goes inside this place. It’s how you rose to the top, after all.”
    A look of anger came over Leland’s face, then he paused while he got back his icy demeanor again. “What are you getting at, Frank? This is getting tiresome and I don’t have time for games.”
    “I wouldn’t call a traitor in the ranks, a game.”
    “A traitor?”
    “Come on, Leland. We both know there is only one way a bunch of low level demons can get their hands on an archangel feather. There’s only one that I know of, and it’s locked away here in the vaults.” Frank slammed his glass on the sacrifice table, enjoying the look of annoyance on Leland’s face as he did so. “Someone in here gave that feather to the demons.”
    Leland shook his head. “That’s ridiculous. No one in this facility would do such a thing.”
    Frank laughed. “As much as that’s still bullshit, someone still gave that feather out. The demons didn’t just walk in here and steal it themselves.”
    “Then they must have gotten it somewhere else. We don’t know about everything that exists on this earth, you know.”
    “So you’re saying that you still have the feather in the vault?”
    “I’m saying, if we checked, I’m sure that would be true.”
    “So you haven’t even checked yet? Jesus.”
    Leland stood to face him. “Very few people have full access to the vault. I can assure you, nothing has