Hellsinger 01 - Fish and Ghosts (P) (MM) Read Online Free Page B

displeasure. His lightweight sweater nearly matched the foyer’s seafoam-colored vase, but his face was a bit colder than the chill that seemed to sweep over Wolf as he stood waiting. From across the room, the man’s eyes appeared to be a brown as rich as the desk he stood behind, but as they drew closer, Wolf caught a bit of amber and green in their depths.
    He’d been right about the anger, though. The man Wolf assumed was Tristan Pryce tightened his mouth as they drew near, and his changeable sage-brown eyes narrowed slightly. The talking to himself continued, a rolling, plush rasp hammered with those damned silver spoons and something darker Wolf couldn’t identify.
    Behind him, Matt and Gidget wandered about the foyer, enraptured with its art and furniture, but Wolf only had eyes for the man in front of him.
    “It’s all right if you can’t sign your name,” the man purred at a spot to the left of him, nodding politely at nothing. “Many people spend their lives doing more important things than learning to write. Let me register you and get you a room.”
    It seemed like Auntie Mrs. Walter Pryce The Third definitely had a leg to stand on. Hell, she had enough legs to give a horny centipede a hard-on.
    “James Rhodes?” He spelled out the last name, and that mouth turned wicked with a knowing smile. “We’ll just say that’s right, then. Where are you from?”
    The man’s head tilted, spilling out golden strands over his shoulder. Wolf cleared his throat, and the blond ignored him, pretending to listen intently to the space in front of him. Gidget came up behind Wolf, either bored or curious about the man talking to himself.
    “What’s he doing?” she whispered into Wolf’s ear.
    “I have no fucking clue,” he admitted softly. “I think he’s pretending to check someone in. It is an inn after all.”
    “So should I unload the stuff, or we’re just calling it a crazy and heading home?”
    “Unload.” Wolf jerked his chin toward the owner. “He’s wrapping that up, by the sounds of it. Supposedly, Mrs. Walter called ahead. Let’s see if she’s made this easier or harder for us.”
    “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Rhodes. Dinner will be served tonight promptly at seven in the large hall, and there should be dancing in the ballroom later. Your room is on the second floor to the right.” The man closed the large book he’d been writing in and motioned to a birdcage elevator set between the two staircases leading up to the second floor. “If you need anything, please let me know, and welcome to Hoxne Grange.”
    Wolf strode across the lobby floor toward the blond, squaring his shoulders as he went. From the jut of the other man’s jaw, Wolf knew he was going to be in for a battle, and the growl that greeted him did nothing to persuade him otherwise.
    “I was with a guest.” His raspy purr wasn’t an affectation. Something gritty curled through the man’s voice, turning it smoky and sensual. “I take it you are from the society my uncle’s wife spoke about.”
    “Dr. Wolf Kincaid.” Wolf didn’t hold out his hand. The man didn’t seem to expect it because he placed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I take it you’re Tristan Pryce?”
    “I am,” he replied smoothly. “No doctor or anything. I barely got out of high school alive. Well, since you’re here, I guess I better find someplace for you and your team to sleep. Just the three of you?”
    “Yeah.” Wolf made a show of looking around. “Not many people here.”
    “The Grange is nearly full. I wish you’d called before you headed over here. I would have told you we’re low on space. Uncle Walter was supposed to tell you to call ahead.”
    The man barely glanced up at Wolf as he opened the register again, flipping through the pages. Its yellowed sheets were covered with names and addresses, with room numbers and dates filling in three right-hand columns. From what Wolf could see, the Grange got a lot of guests, although