Chapter 6 - The Language of the Silent
The little girl had slipped away from Mara in the confusion of the blackout. She didn't understand the guns, or the red laser sights, or the lethal tension in the room. She only saw the dark, cold room, and her friend Adrian sitting in his chair, his face twisted in pain as his heart stumbled under the stress.
"Lily, no!" Mara’s scream echoed from the hallway as she ran after her daughter, but she was too late.
Lily reached Adrian’s chair, climbing up onto the leather armrest just as she had done on that first stormy Tuesday morning. She didn't look at Nolan or his armed men. She reached out, her small, warm hands cupping Adrian’s cold cheeks, her eyes searching his gray ones with an intensity that felt ancient.
She began to make rapid, desperate signs.
Adrian looked into her blue eyes, and the icy grip of the aconitine on his chest seemed to loosen. He let out a long, slow breath, his pulse stabilizing as he focused entirely on her face.
"Get that brat away from him," Nolan snarled, his hand reaching toward his holster. "I don't have time for this circus."
"If you touch her, Nolan," Adrian said, his voice dropping to a register that made the windowpanes vibrate, "I will not shoot you. I will let Marcus have you. And he is far less merciful than I am."
Nolan looked at Adrian, then at Marcus, and finally at the hallway behind him, where six more of Adrian’s loyal enforcers had just appeared, their weapons trained on Nolan’s group.
The coup had failed before it had even begun.
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"This isn't over, Adrian," Nolan hissed, his face pale with fury as he slowly lowered his hands. "You're still a dead man. The poison is already in your blood. You can't clean it out."
"Maybe not," Adrian said, his hand gently covering Lily’s small one where it rested on his jaw. "But I have enough time left to ensure you never see the light of day again."
