Pray Tell

Callahan

Moments after Antonio has taken Portia, my uncle and Heathcliff walk into the study. I stand, shoving my hands into my pockets.

Cerberus's low growl comes from his place in the corner. I don't comment as Heathcliff glances over at the hound.

"I don't know why you keep that dog," my uncle says.

"I like him," I say. "Heathcliff." I nod in greeting.

"Good to see you, Callahan," Heathcliff says.

My uncle takes a seat and crosses his ankle over the opposite knee. He chooses the Chesterfield at the far end, away from Cerberus who lays his head back down but keeps that low growl going, eyes on my uncle.

I smile at Heathcliff. Well, it's an attempt at a smile. I don't like him. I don't trust him. Not even after he killed his own nephews to prove his loyalty to me. He switches sides too often. One of those mercenaries Portia mentioned.

"Sit," I tell him, gesturing to the chair beside the one Portia sat in, He does.

“I see my niece walking freely in your house.”

My uncle makes a sound