"Can you please repeat that one more time?" Nathan asked patiently.
"Of course," Theo said. "I flipped open my umbrella and stepped out of my car, preparing to dash to the door here, but then I saw Avery and Chase. Oduliana! They were both as drenched as if they stood through the great wash of Cazador! I immediately ran to them and provided cover with the umbrella, and together we walked to the building."
"No," Nathan said, "the other part."
Theo hesitated uncertainly. "They were just standing there?"
Nathan nodded, "That's what I thought you said."
"I wasn't exactly just standing there," Chase explained. "I fell and landed in a puddle, and Avery helped me to my feet."
Nathan looked around the expansive atrium and asked, "Where is Avery? She said she needed to see me, but then left."
"She's getting a fresh change of clothes," Chase explained. "Luckily we had our suitcases in her car."
"In her car?"
"Yeah, we checked out of that resort this morning."
That seemed to satisfy Nathan. He nodded and said, "Alright, then. Why don't you head up to the third floor? We'll meet you there in a minute."
"How safe is it here?" Chase asked, unsure about leaving Avery alone. "I'm supposed to be guarding her, after all."
"There is ample security within the building," Nathan assured him. "Indigena, as well as Caelan."
"Fine," Chase said. "Hey, how many people are going to be at this meeting, anyway? Like a hundred?"
"No," Nathan said, checking his watch. "More like twenty five or so." Without waiting for Chase to respond, he turned to Theo and said, "Can you arrange a food delivery for later?"
"Sure. What time would you like it?"
"I don't know. Five or six o'clock?"
Chase exhaled sharply and headed toward the elevators, not sticking around to hear the rest of their conversation. His wet shoes squeaked awkwardly on the tiled floor as he walked away, echoing across the atrium's high ceilings and marble walls.
The Caelan's office complex was like every other business in the Chicago area—a blend of modern architecture geared toward employee productivity. The five story building was mostly empty—being a weekend, although Chase suspected that the Caelans got plenty of use from this place outside of work. It was the perfect hangout for their secret society. Impossible to suspect.
The iratus consilium, as they called it, was a workshop set in their main conference room on the third floor, likely to last several hours—possibly into the evening. As Chase punched the number 3 inside the elevator, he idly wondered if the Caelans had any of their secret tech here in the building—something that he could see for himself.
But as the shiny metallic doors closed, his thoughts came to an abrupt stop. The reflection of the man looking back at him was unrecognizable. The disheveled hair, the unshaven face—yes. But the look in his eyes was profoundly out of place. The expression, foreign.
It was the look of fear.
The truth was that Chase didn't care about the meeting, the Caelans' anger problem, their technology, or even about being here. He had been unconsciously distracting himself from thinking about what just happened—from trying to understand it. He didn't want to understand it.
