Fifty-Seven
Councillor Dillon’s heart rate sped up at the sound of the doors swinging open and slamming against the wall on either side. This was it. The other councillors had arrived and they were all going to be slaughtered.
He looked toward the doors and his eyes went wide when he saw the mercenary commander and the man he had hired him to kill.
For a long moment there was silence in the council chambers as the humans from Harlington jumped to their feet and faced the newcomers.
‘Who the hell are you two?’ asked the black-haired devil, the bane of Dillon’s existence since he’d arrived in Brimfield. ‘You don’t look like councillors to me.’ Martin’s black brows bristled. ‘I’ll skin that weasel of an aide if he went and called in the guards.’
Kyle shook his head. ‘We’re not guards. We
