Mated To My Mate's Worst Enemy (ARIA) novel Chapter 646

Chapter 646

ARIA

"Ian." The voice was immediate and carrying the quality of someone who'd been waiting for exactly this connection.

"Solander," Ian said.

"Status," Solander said.

"Moving," Ian said. "Route adjusted. Northern approach is compromised. We're on the secondary."

"The secondary puts you through the—"

"I know," Ian said. "It's manageable."

"Are they intact," Solander said.

"Functional," Ian said.

"All of them," Solander said.

"All of them," Ian confirmed.

A pause.

"Kael," Solander said.

"I'm here," Kael said.

"I'm going to need you to—" Solander started.

"I know," Kael said.

"She made the call that needed making," Solander said.

"I know," Kael said.

"And you're going to want to—"

"Solander," Kael said.

"Yes," Solander said.

"I know," Kael said. "Complete the mission. I know."

A beat.

"Good," Solander said. "Ian, call me when you're through the secondary approach."

"Yes," Ian said.

The call ended.

Twelve minutes passed.

Ian's phone rang again.

"Ian," Ian said.

"Status," Solander said.

"We're on the secondary approach," Ian said.

"Movement near the eastern—"

"I see it," Ian said. "It's old movement, not current. They passed through here twenty minutes ago."

"How can you tell," Solander said.

"The undergrowth," Ian said. "The specific settlement pattern. They came through here but they're not here now."

"Alright," Solander said. "Keep moving."

The call ended.

Eight minutes passed.

Ian's phone rang.

"Ian," Ian said.

"Status," Solander said.

Nina looked at Jordan.

Jordan looked at Nina.

Something was communicated between them in the specific rapid silent language they'd been speaking for years, and the communication included a recognition.

"He calls a lot," I said, quietly, to Nina.

"The tenth time in thirty minutes by my count," Nina said.

"He's worried," I said.

"He's always worried," Ian said, from the front, managing the call and the conversation simultaneously. "He says it's strategic concern. I've been calling it something else for eight years."

"Ian," Solander said, through the car speakers.

"He's fine," Ian said. "They're all fine. The route is clear. We're approximately twelve minutes from the entry point."

"The werewitches on the northern—"

"Not a factor on this route," Ian said.

"If they adjust the search pattern—"

"I'm monitoring," Ian said.

"And the nightwalkers—"

"Solander," Ian said.

A pause.

"Yes," Solander said.

"I have it," Ian said. "Twelve minutes."

"Call me when you're through," Solander said.

"I'll call you when we're through," Ian said.

The call ended.

I looked at Ian.

At the specific quality of him managing Solander's calls with the specific patient competence of someone who'd been doing exactly this for years — the information delivered at the right level of detail, the reassurance present without being excessive, the management so practiced it didn't look like management.

Like Ivory with Kael.

Exactly like Ivory with Kael.

The same quality of care that existed in a different register — not romantic, not the twelve years of Kael and Ivory's specific history, but the fundamental thing underneath it, the specific way that a healer learned to carry the Alpha they served when the carrying was what was needed.

"How long," I said to Ian.

He glanced at me in the mirror.

"Have I been doing this," he said. "Eight years."

"Is it always like this," I said.

"He's better than he used to be," Ian said. "The first three years were—" he paused, considering. "Educational."

"In the Ivory sense of educational," Jordan said.

"In the sense that I learned a great deal about what an Alpha looks like when they've been asked to carry more than the architecture was designed for," Ian said. "And what they look like when someone helps carry it." He paused. "He's better now. The territory management is stable. The forty-five packs are—mostly stable. There are always situations. But he's better."

"The calling every ten minutes," I said.

"That's affection," Ian said. "He processes concern through information-seeking. As long as I answer, he's managing."

"And if you don't answer," Jordan said.

"I always answer," Ian said.

The car was quiet for a moment.

Then Kael, from the passenger seat, said: "We need to discuss the plan."

"Yes," Ian said.

"The Convention challenge," Kael said. "The formal proceedings. The plan was Clara and the document and Cassium's position being neutralized."

"Yes," Ian said.

"The plan is still viable," Kael said.

"Yes," Ian said.

"We complete the mission," Kael said. "We get Clara. We get the document. We go to the formal proceedings and we present what we have."

"Cassium's challenge requires your formal response," Ian said. "Under the Convention, the bonded Alpha can challenge the prior claim directly — formal proceedings, you present your case for why the bonding was legitimate and why the prior claim is invalid."

"I'm challenging it," Kael said.

"Right," Ian said. "The standard response for a Alpha defending his healer is—"

"I'm standing for Aria," Kael said.

The car was quiet.

Then Ian's hands did something on the wheel.

The car moved slightly left.

Then right.

Then back to center.

Four seconds.

"Shit," Ian said. "Wait. What?"

"Aria," Kael said.

"You're standing for Aria," Ian said. "In the formal proceedings. You're presenting the defense for Aria's position as your bonded mate." He paused. "Instead of—"

"Correct," Ian said.

"How many packs," I said.

"Forty-five when I last had a current count," Ian said. "It changes. Packs form, dissolve, merge. The administrative work is—" he paused. "Significant."

"You do it," I said.

"I manage the management," he said. "Solander does the actual leading. I make sure the leading is possible."

The phone rang.

Ian looked at the ceiling of the car.

"Seven minutes," Jordan said. "He beat the projection."

"He's particularly anxious tonight," Ian said, answering. "Yes. Yes, we are—yes. Yes, we're approximately forty minutes out. Yes. No, there's been no additional contact. Yes. Yes, I—" he paused. "Yes, Solander, I promise. I'll—yes." He lowered the phone. "He would like me to inform you that he has food ready at the safe house."

"What kind of food," Jordan said immediately.

Ian relayed this.

A response.

"The kind that is hot and multiple," Ian said.

"That's acceptable," Jordan said.

"He says it's more than acceptable," Ian said.

"Tell him I appreciate the food," Jordan said.

"Jordan says he appreciates the food," Ian said, and then listened. "He says Jordan should not have eaten those crackers in the car if he was going to be ungrateful about actual meals."

"How does he know about the crackers," Jordan said.

"Ivory told him," Ian said.

"When did Ivory have time to—" Jordan started.

"She sent messages during the drive," Ian said. "Before the attack. She was briefing him on team status."

"She briefed him on my crackers," Jordan said.

"She briefed him on relevant team information," Ian said. "The crackers were apparently mentioned in passing."

"In passing," Jordan said.

"She noted that Jordan had the crackers," Ian said. "She said this was consistent with Jordan's approach to resource management."

"My approach to resource management is—"

"Jordan," Nina said.

"Yes," Jordan said.

"Save it," Nina said.

"Saving it," Jordan said.

The road changed.

Not dramatically — the specific gradual change of transitioning from one kind of territory to another, the landscape adjusting in the way landscapes adjusted when you'd crossed into a different operational area. The trees became more deliberate, the spacing between them suggesting something that had been shaped rather than grown without thought.

"We're entering the buffer zone," Ian said. "Solander's people have it secured. Derek's search perimeter doesn't extend this far."

"How far is his perimeter," Elite said.

"Approximately six miles behind us," Ian said. "His people are good but they're working without the specific advantage of having Ivory's information about how we move."

"Ivory told Solander how we move," I said.

"Ivory has been communicating with Solander's network for four years," Ian said. "She is extremely thorough."

"Of course she is," I said.

The vehicle slowed.

Gates.

Actual gates — not the decorative kind, the functional kind, the specific construction of something that had been built to hold against things that had significant force. The walls on either side of them were similarly functional, the specific architecture of a defensive structure that had been built by someone who understood what it needed to keep out.

Wolves on the walls.

Not few — I looked up and counted the visible ones and stopped counting at twenty because the estimate was clearly going to be higher than twenty and the counting wasn't the point. The specific organized presence of a significant defensive force, deployed with the efficiency of people who'd been briefed and were executing the brief.

Approximately two hundred.

The gates opened.

The vehicle moved through.

The interior of the safe house was — I'd been expecting something that matched the fortress exterior. The exterior was fortress. The interior was the specific combination of fortress infrastructure and someone's actual operational space, which meant maps on tables and documents on pinboards and the organized chaos of active intelligence work happening in a space that was simultaneously comfortable and functional.

And Solander.

He was in the courtyard.