Free The Stolen by Celia Thomson Page B

right.” Whit looked at his son with something approaching fondness. “I remember: cabernets. A strange thing for a California boy, but I don’t disapprove. I seem to remember they have some very nice native ones here….” He took out a pair of reading glasses and buried his nose in the wine list.
    Brian sighed. At least his father seemed a
little
nervous despite his posturing. It had been several months since they had really spent any time together outside the dusty walls of the Order’s chapter house. The older man looked more or less the same, maybe a little tanner, maybe his jowls were just a little bit tighter. He had said something about taking up squash or tennis. He was a large man, imposing, with an utterly patrician face and a nose that was large enough to make him look regal but sharp enough so that he looked like he was something other than a hundred percent Italian. Only his easy olive tan betrayed a Mediterranean origin.
    His
outfit was impeccable, a several-thousand-dollar Armani suit that fit so well with the shirt, the cuff links, the tie, and the shoes that except for the slight paunch, Brian’s dad could have been a model for some older men’s magazine. Whitney Rezza was a living embodiment of taste and wealth well spent.
    â€œDad,” Brian said, clearing his throat, “I think we should consider me leaving the Order.”
    His father looked over the wine list at him.
    â€œDon’t be absurd.”
    Brian had thought long and hard, and the best thing he could do for Chloe now was to cut all ties with the organization that was bent on killing her. Whatever happened between the two of them, he would be free of the Tenth Blade, and Chloe would feel confident that she could trust him.
    But that was only partially it: this was also an opportunity for Brian to figure out what to do with his life. Which he knew, regardless of anything else, did not involve the Order of the Tenth Blade. At best it was a silly society of archaic rituals and secrecy; at worst it was a group of people devoted to killing other people. Either way, it was not going to be his life’s work.
    â€œI’m serious, Dad. I want a career, an education—I want a
life
” He ran his hand through his own thick dark hair, angry at his own nervousness.
    â€œAll of those things are possible while you remain in the Order,” his father said, slowly setting the wine list down, “if that’s what you really wish.”
    â€œI want to
concentrate
on ‘those things.’ I don’t want to have to run out of a final because of some emergency meeting the way Dickless—uh, Dick did a couple of weeks ago.”
    â€œRichard is an extremely devoted young man,”Whit said patronizingly. “He is an exemplar for the Order.”
    Then why don’t you just adopt him and be done with it?
His father’s feelings toward Dick used to drive Brian up the wall; now he
wished
his dad was grooming the college student for eventual leadership. God knew he himself didn’t want it.
    Brian took a deep breath.
    â€œDad,” he said patiently, “most people
choose
to join the Order. Even Edna—”
    â€œThat’s
Mrs. Hilshire
to you, Brian.”
    â€œEven fucking Mrs. Hilshire—” He stopped when his father gave him a warning look. “Even
she
gave her kids the choice. Evelyn chose to join, and William and Maurice didn’t.”
    â€œWell, I don’t have the luxury of
three children
and the chances that
one
may follow in his father’s footsteps. I only have
you
.”
    â€œIt’s not my fault you only have one kid,” Brian snapped, his temper slowly getting the better of him.
    â€œOh, is this where you’re about to blame me for the death of my own wife again?” his dad said, annoyingly lightly. “How if it hadn’t been for me, she would still be alive? How I might have had three kids, and you would get out