Pool_2

purpose, whetted on the grit of my ancestry. My edge is justice and my adversary that whoring wench with her upraised scales of greed. Aver is our castle and our mountain. On that rise, we lift safely above the seas of cupidity. New lines are everywhere, drawn about us. They are his lines. They are ours. We are safe." This was neither the voice nor the manner of the Marcus Macaluso she had known - well, except for those occasional beastly spells. After a momentary reflection, in a more settled, almost whispered voice, he revealed, "I put flowers on my mother's grave yesterday. I saw her pictures. She was beautiful. She was a beautiful woman, thank goodness. My father, well.." He quietly massaged and savored the burning of the bleeding mark on his left chest. "You'll be able to go home soon, Shannon. It's OK. John's been waiting for you. Frank will send for him. " "Frank?" "Aver." "Speaking of Franks, where's Frank Sumner? I haven't seen him for a while." Shannon was probably more curious than worried, given the turn of events and the command that existed here. In the dark, those eyes lightened for just a brief moment. "Frank Sumner, my brother, sends you his love. He's home." A squint of pleasure hinted itself, briefly, in those deep menacing brows. Marcus wasn't just thinking about Nora naked, but of Frank smiling, at last, nestled shirtless in between those magnificent healing breasts with Nora's loving fingers gently tracing his newest scar, an Omega, worn proudly. "Mac, are you going home?" "I am home," he whispered, trailing off, "This one's mine."