Skin Walkers: Mason by Susan Bliler

Author:Susan Bliler [Bliler, Susan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-26T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Sitting in his suite, frowning out the window at the dark night, Mason listened to the howling wind. With his heightened sense of hearing he could even pick up the slight pings of crystalline snowflakes blasting against the glass. Reaching for his rocks glass, he lifted it and absently swirled the amber Elijah Craig bourbon within until the warmed scent lifted and drew his attention back to the table where he sat. His lone place setting at the too long table in his suite never failed to remind him that he hadn’t done his job. Eyeing the empty seats, he wondered how long it would be before his sister and any family she may have would finally be able to join him. Sighing, he forced down the quiet whisper of, “if ever.” Tonight, he wasn’t going to think about his sister or his failure of finding her thus far. Tonight, he was too distracted by something else. Focusing on the gold rimmed place setting before him, Mason lifted his matching gold spoon and stabbed it uninterestedly into the fisherman’s pie still steaming on his plate. He couldn’t recall how many nights he’d spent in this exact same spot eating and drinking the exact same thing. Angling his head, his eyes slid back to the window and he sighed, staring at the exact same sight. Before, this had been his favored end to an evening, but now it felt hollow. No, hollow wasn’t the right word. Dropping his spoon, Mason laced his fingers together and propped them under his chin while dissecting his emotions. With a chuff of self-loathing, he lowered his hands as realization dawned. It wasn’t hollowness he was feeling at all. What he was feeling was loneliness, and this time it wasn’t for long lost family.

Shoving back from the table, Mason snatched up his glass of bourbon and stalked to the fireplace, silently cursing Amanda. She was fucking with his head, fucking with his routine. Even worse, she was distracting him from his goal of finding his sister. With that thought, guilt bit hard. His sister was out there, God knew where, and here he was wondering how Amanda was adjusting to her suite.

She’s fine, he self-admonished.

Of course, Amanda was fine. She was safe in a suite just down the hall. The rooms at the Estate were impeccable and the service was first-class. Still, he couldn’t stop the worry that plagued him. He’d delivered her to the suite himself, but she’d begged him to take her home. He’d practically shoved her inside and left her trapped there. Monroe had the automated locks engaged so that the only way for Amanda to be let out of her suite was for someone on the outside to allow it.

Trying not to think of Amanda, Mason headed for the leather armchair angled toward the warmly-lit fire. Dropping into it, he took a swig of his bourbon before placing it on a side table and opened the laptop on the ottoman in front of him.

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