Page 25 of Code Name: Typhon

“Do you think she has a connection to Nathanial Jones?” Z asked.

“I think he might’ve been her father.”

Z’s expression was solemn.

I sighed. “My greatest fear is O will take this so far that it’ll get her killed. That she refuses to read us in means we can’t do anything to protect her.”

“Our hands are tied, so to speak. Do you agree?”

Z’s question was rhetorical, but I was racking my brain anyway. “Poseidon.”

He raised a brow. “What of him?”

“She trusts him. Perhaps it’s time I take a step back and allow him to be her knight in shining armor.”

“It often feels as though they’re our children, does it not?”

“As I’m not a father, I cannot say with experience. However, I bet one of the hardest things is allowing them to leave the nest regardless of your fear they may fall.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Z agreed.

“I’m stepping away, my friend. I have other 23-ers who might benefit from my micro-management.”

Z’s laugh was hearty. “On another subject, how is our Delfino fairing?”

“Time to push her from the nest as well. I’ve done the best I could.”

“Jekyll would be proud of her.”

“Aye. He certainly would.”

Instead of returning to London, I stayed in Surrey for a charity rugby tournament. On the final day, my mates and I went to the pub in Shere. While it was a little too close to the command center for my comfort, I didn’t run into anyone from the coalition while I was there. I did, however, think I saw someone familiar in the window of one of the inn’s rooms on the second level.

“You all right, Typhon?” one of them asked.

“Fine,” I responded. “Just seeing things.”

9

ELIZA

After several days of inactivity, with the exception of the party held to celebrate Niven and Harper’s marriage on New Year’s Eve, I was antsy.

I’d planned to apply for adjunct positions in London, but hadn’t yet, given they’d be far more competitive than in Edinburgh. Candidates whose degrees were from a university were always given first crack at openings.

In the past, I fled to Scotland to avoid Nigel and Millicent, but doing so no longer seemed necessary. In fact, I hadn’t heard a word from my father since we’d met for lunch. My mum and I spoke on the phone, but she hadn’t suggested we get together, and neither had I. That we hadn’t been together for Christmas didn’t seem to faze her in the least. I was too numb to it after all these years to care. At least on the surface. That I’d spent the day alone was yet another reason I felt sorry for myself.

I did wonder how they were managing to live on the “meager” money he made as foreign secretary, as Niv told me my father had referred to it. With a salary of over one hundred thousand pounds, he earned more than ninety-six percent of those living in the UK, although I doubted the statistic would make him appreciate it.

Easy for me to say when I’d never had to worry about money. At least not as an adult. I had full access to my trust once I turned eighteen. The solicitor still managed it, of course, but I didn’t mind. Apart from my foray into ridiculousness when I spent an entire week at Claridge’s, I’d lived a modest life, and I had no intention of doing otherwise again.

I’d spent a few hundred pounds decorating my flat but still had one room I had no idea what to do with. At first, I thought to make it an art studio, but it seemed like a terrible waste of space, considering I’d only sold a handful of pieces in Edinburgh and had no representation in London.

Still, I had to do something, or I’d go mad with boredom. And while Harper said I could visit as often as I’d like, I thought it only fair they begin their lives as a married couple without me hanging around all the time.

I could get together with the friends I’d had before I left for university, but I’d lost contact with most of them.

Good God, I was pathetic.