See No Evil (Alpha Guardians Book 1) Read Online Free Page A

known, multiplied by a thousand. Rhys loved nothing more than a piece of roast salmon, fingerling potatoes, and a fresh salad of field greens. Usually finished with a glass of port or Scotch whiskey, though he kept his intake of alcohol low.
    Rhys’s stomach rumbled, and he realized that he was rhapsodizing about salmon because he’d worked up a huge appetite sparring with Gabriel. Damn the man, but the other Guardian was almost as good as Rhys with a sword now, and Rhys had to work a lot harder to keep them both on their toes.
    “Dinner?” Rhys asked the butler.
    “Gentlemen,” Duverjay said with a slight bow. “There is a very distressed young lady waiting for you in the foyer. You might want to see her before you eat.”
    Rhys gave Duverjay a curious glance, then headed into the front hall. A light skinned young woman waited there, wringing her hands. She wore a royal blue dress that clung to every curve. Paired with sky high white heels, her fashionable outfit clashed with the misery in her expression.
    Duverjay inserted himself between the girl and Rhys, placing a comforting hand on her arm. Rhys noticed that Gabriel hung back, seemingly content to watch the exchange.
    “This is Andrea,” Duverjay said, giving the girl a sympathetic, wincing smile. “Her mother’s in a bit of trouble. Isn’t that right, Andrea?”
    The young woman nodded, her lower lip wobbling. Rhys was startled to watch as Duverjay actively tried to comfort her; Duverjay rarely showed any visible emotion, and Rhys had never seen the Butler expressed sympathy of any kind.
    “That man, Pere Mal, he took my momma,” Andrea sobbed. “She didn’t do nothing wrong. The man can’t just take her off the street like that, just because she works at Le Marchè. Can he?”
    Mere Marie, the Guardians’ mercurial employer, sauntered down one of the two grand staircases that flanked the front hall, though Rhys hadn’t noticed her listening in. She was a petite woman of perhaps sixty years of age, though Rhys knew for a fact that Mere Marie was at least four or five times older than she looked. She had the distinctive coffee-and-cream skin tone of a Creole woman, but her straight salt-and-pepper hair and French-tinged New Orleans accent hinted at a farther-reaching blend of mixed heritage: Haitian, Creole, and white, perhaps even a little Spanish.
    As always, Mere Marie was dressed in a flowing set of cotton robes. Today she wore light yellow, and she’d pushed up the sleeves to her elbows. Rhys caught the scent of anise and bitter herbs, the herbal smell growing stronger as she neared. Her fingers and forearms were mottled with green and yellow stains, signs that she’d been at work in her apothecary room, making little sachets she called gris-gris .
    Being employed by a Voodoo priestess was never boring, that much was certain. Rhys edged away from the overwhelming licorice scent pouring off Mere Marie, and waited to hear what she’d say about the butler bringing strangers into the Manor.
    “Ah, Duverjay, I see you’re bringing your family to visit at work now,” Mere Marie said, arching a brow.
    Rhys looked at Duverjay and Andrea, and suddenly it was obvious that they were related. They had similar noses, and the same chocolatey brown eyes. Duverjay glared at Rhys and Gabriel, as if challenging them to say something about him or Andrea.
    “My niece, ma’am,” Duverjay said to Mere Marie. “I hope you don’t mind.”
    Rhys glanced at Mere Marie, wondering for the thousandth time precisely what Mere Marie had done to earn the man’s loyalty and respect. Duverjay didn’t defer to many people, but with Mere Marie he was the very picture of politeness.
    “Let’s hear it, then,” Mere Marie said, giving the young woman a skeptical glance.
    “Well, I was at my work, Stiletto’s, talking to one of my regulars. This guy Amos, good tipper.” Andrea paused and took a shaky breath. “I told him a story about my momma, about her work in the