Carys pushed the sting of that thought aside as she reached for a third helping from the tray. As she ate, she glanced at Nova’s intricate body art.
“Whoever did your ink has an impressive talent. It’s really beautiful work.”
“Thank you.” Nova smoothed one hand over the other, idly tracing some of the art. “Most of it was done by my friend, Ozzy. He owned the shop where I worked. He was killed a couple of weeks ago.”
Carys instantly regretted bringing up a sad subject for the other woman. She wasn’t aware of the details, but she could see that Nova still grieved for her friend. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Me too. He was the only family I had, aside from Eddie, the boy Ozzy took in a few years after he saved me from the streets.” Her pained expression shifted a bit. “Now, I have Mathias. We’ve formed a new family together. With Eddie too.”
Tavia reached out to squeeze Nova’s hand affectionately. “And your new baby on the way.”
“A baby!” Apparently, Mathias and his mate were full of surprises. Carys smiled at Nova. “Congratulations.”
She murmured her thanks, looking both awkward about it and overjoyed. “I never dreamed I’d have a child of my own one day. I never imagined I’d take a mate either, especially from among the Breed.”
The way she said it—the way her pale blue eyes clouded over with an unspoken darkness before she glanced down at her hands again—made Carys guess there had been a lot of ugliness and suffering in Nova’s past. But she didn’t pry, just let the comment pass in the silence that followed. “I’m sure you’ll have nothing but happiness with Mathias.”
“I’m sure of that too.” Nova lifted her head, no more dark clouds in her gaze now, only certainty. “I’m thankful every day that Mathias walked into Ozzy’s shop. I’ll be thankful for the rest of my life that he didn’t give up on me, even though I tried my best to push him away.”
“Maybe sometime you can tell me all about it,” Carys said.
Nova nodded. “Sure. I’d like that.”
As the four women fell into an easy conversation around the canapés, footsteps sounded in the hallway outside the kitchen. A moment later, Carys’s father strode in with Mathias.
“I thought I heard my daughter’s voice in here.”
Carys offered him a guilty smile. “Hello, Father.”
He crossed his massive arms over his chest, looking every bit the formidable warrior, even in a crisp white oxford shirt and tailored pants. “I’m glad to see you didn’t try to ditch Jordana and Nathan tonight too.”
Tavia clicked her tongue. “Sterling, don’t be difficult.”
His frown stayed directed at Carys. “I wasn’t aware that’s what we’re calling a father’s concern these days.”
She bristled, even though she knew he had a right to be upset. To be worried about her. “I didn’t move out to add to your stress or to the Order’s problems.”
“And yet you have,” he informed her. “At a time when all we’ve got are problems.”
A fresh dread crept up her spine at his ominous tone. “What’s happened? Has there been anything more regarding Opus or the Order’s other missions?”
“Nothing in our favor,” he grumbled. “We’re still gathering intel. We only have Riordan in our sights now, when we need to unmask all of Opus’s members if we stand any chance of bringing down the organization.”
Mathias nodded. “Too bad Reginald Crowe didn’t leave behind anything solid to lead us to the rest of his associates.”
“Only a cold trail to a rumored lover who may or may not exist,” Chase said. “Gideon hacked into all of his business and personal accounts, but Crowe took precautions with his interests. Nothing to implicate anyone as a member of Opus. And if Crowe did have a mistress, he was careful to keep his relationship with her out of the spotlight. Which is saying something right there, based on Crowe’s lack of discretion in all the other areas of his life.”
Carys knew of Reginald Crowe, of course. Anyone alive in the past twenty years was familiar with the billionaire business magnate who was as famous for his numerous, progressively younger ex-wives as he was for his limitless ego. He’d put his name on everything he could, from high-rise hotels and casinos, to enormous grants for art and science institutions. Even Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts where Carys and Jordana worked had a large exhibit of masterworks on loan from Reginald Crowe personal collection.
As Carys listened to what the Order and her family had been dealing with in her absence, she felt guilty for the strife she’d caused in her need to spread her wings. She should have been helping her family and the Order however she could. Instead, she’d been preoccupied with Rune, and unintentionally causing everyone more problems and distress.
“I’m sorry,” Carys said, looking at her father. “I didn’t realize everything that was going on right now. It was selfish of me to leave the way I did.”
“You’re damn right it was.” He was still frowning, still terribly upset with her. “I’m just glad Nathan and Jordana were able to talk a little sense into you where no one else could. I’m glad someone was able to convince you that you belong at home right now, not running around with that fighter down at La Notte.”
Carys walked toward her blustering, bristling father. She didn’t stop until she was standing directly in front of him, close enough to see the tightly leashed fury glittering in the blue eyes that were the same shade as her own. He stared at her mutely, nostrils flaring.