“Why would you want to look like a fragile twig a man could snap in half when you had the perfect body with real curves, Brielle?” Elie demanded. “Fayette is not a beautiful woman. She looks like a coat hanger.”
“Like the models you have hanging on your arm all the time?” Brielle retaliated.
“I don’t date models,” Elie hissed, his voice lower than ever, a bad sign with him. Anyone who knew him well would recognize the signs in him. “If you had bothered to keep in touch instead of holding on to a grievance that happened years ago, you would have known. I’m not the only one to blame here, Brielle. By holding on to your anger at me, you would have condemned four people to a lifetime of misery.”
“I wasn’t holding on to a grievance over your comment on my weight, Elie. It wasn’t as if I hadn’t heard it all my life. Don’t think you were that important. I went to Spain because I wanted to change my life and do whatever the hell I wanted to do for myself. Not you. Not my family. For me.”
Elie had to admit, he was rather proud of her for that, even if it had been too fucking long for them to be apart.
Stefano held up his hand. “We are going to finish this very important conversation about shadow riding before getting into anything else. I send out the riders in Chicago, Brielle. If you were to join the roster, I would have to know you were fit. Your times are impressive. You certainly look as if you would be a huge asset to us. You asked to be trained by the riders in Spain and they agreed after looking at your training records and consulting with the council. You never disclosed to anyone that you quit because being in the shadows made you ill, did you?”
Brielle shook her head. “I didn’t feel there was a need to. The family in Spain agreed to train me and I finished my training with no incident. The council approved me as a shadow rider.” There was a hint of pride in her tone.
“You didn’t answer the question,” Elie stated. “Do you get sick traveling in the shadows?”
Brielle hesitated and Elie wanted to shake her. Riders died in the shadow tubes. Even experienced riders could have problems.
“Yes, but I can handle it. I don’t want my husband to be ashamed of me because he thinks the mother of his children can’t carry out assignments the way other riders can. I’m more than capable. I’ve learned how to manage being ill. I just am careful that I don’t take the chance of compromising any other rider.”
Elie couldn’t sit there calmly. He was out of the chair, shoving it back and pacing across the office so he didn’t grab her and shake some sense into her. “Do you even hear yourself? You know it’s dangerous or you wouldn’t be worried about protecting another rider, Brielle. Do you have any idea how many riders we’ve lost to the tubes, even riders who weren’t sick or disoriented because they were sick? I’ve brought out four shadow riders myself, Brielle. It took me hours to find their bodies. I had to carry them back to their families.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared out the window at the city below, trying not to think of those riders, all relatively experienced. The thought of Brielle going in sick . . . He shook his head. “If your husband doesn’t respect you whether you go into the shadows or not, you shouldn’t be married to him. And you damn well shouldn’t be going into the shadows no matter how good of a rider you are, if you get sick.”
Stefano leaned his elbows onto the desk and placed his chin onto his hands, looking closely at Brielle. “Unfortunately, I’m in complete agreement with Elie. I’m unwilling to take a chance with your life. It’s unsafe for you to do anything but travel in the shadows and that’s accompanied by an experienced rider, not taking a job as an assassin, Brielle.”
Her stubborn chin went up and Elie knew he was going to bite that chin sometime soon when he had her all to himself. She stirred up things in him that might be dark, but they weren’t ugly. If anything, she managed to bring his darker practices veering away from where he’d thought he needed to go with a woman he wouldn’t be attracted to the way he was to Brielle.
“I trained very hard,” she disagreed.
“I can see that by these reports,” Stefano said, holding up the thick papers. “You have amazing stats, but I’m not willing to risk your life, Brielle. Every shadow rider is important, whether they can work as assassins or in another capacity. You carry the genetics we desperately need.”
Elie’s breath hissed out between his teeth. “I don’t see her as a brood mare, Stefano. That’s how the council sees her. That’s how the Archambaults see her.”