Madly & the Jackal Read Online Free PDF

ceilings and gilded columns, I made a point to stop and look around, to act as if I’d never been inside the mansion, which would be the case if I were the person I was portraying. 
    From the grand foyer, the house’s three main hallways split off in different directions like spokes of a wheel.  The Sentinel guided us down the long hall to the left, the hall that led toward my father’s suite of offices.  There was an entire wing dedicated to his affairs as Warden Major and I couldn’t decide if we were going there because that’s where my father happened to be or if it was because Jackson had used the code word marmoset.
    Despite the circumstances of our visit and our subterfuge, I still felt a bubbling excitement about seeing my father alive and well, healthy and hale.  When the Sentinel knocked on my father’s office door, I felt my breath catch and hold in my throat. 
    “Enter,” came a booming voice from the other side of the thick, ornately-carved wooden panel.
    At the sound of that voice, my knees wobbled with relief then stiffened with elation, with the desire to run into the room and throw myself into my father’s arms.  I schooled my expression, purposely straightening the corners of my mouth.  They had automatically twitched up into a smile.  When the Sentinel pushed the door open and held it for us to precede him into the room, I forced myself to remain calm and cool.  Respectful.  Detached.
    My first sight of him melted my heart.  My father, Hennessey James, Warden Major of Atlas, stood behind his wide mahogany desk.  He was proud, in control and very much alive. 
    To a less-discerning eye, he looked exactly as he had for the last fifty years—taller than most Mer, broad of shoulder, deeply tanned, white hair that brushed his collar bones, neatly trimmed beard of the same color, and sharp blue-green eyes that matched his scales.  He’d always made a point of keeping himself in pique physical condition, taking pride in his ability to hold his own with virtually any Sentinel that ever ascended the ranks in Atlas.  The only exception I’d ever known of was standing not ten feet in front of him. 
    Jackson was the only Sentinel ever to best Hennessey James.
    The two most important men in my life stood staring at one another for several intense seconds before my father turned to the Sentinel and nodded.
    “Thank you.”
    We all remained silent as the Sentinel made his way from the room, pulling the door snugly shut behind him.  When we were finally alone, my father turned his attention back to Jackson.
    “So you’re here about the marmoset.”
    If my father’s tone was intimidating, his expression was downright menacing.  It was during those few tense moments that I saw what a toll the past days had taken on him.  There were deep lines in his face, lines I didn’t remember seeing before I left.  He had a haggard look about him that was somewhat alarming.  My father had never been anything less than one of the most vital people I’d ever known.  It didn’t set well with me to see him in such obvious distress.
    I wanted to do away with our disguises, round the desk and wrap my arms around his neck, but I didn’t.  Jackson, as if reading my mind, put his hand on my arm to stop me.  I glanced up at him and he shook his head once, almost imperceptibly.
    “Yes, sir,” Jackson finally answered, looking meaningfully back at my father. 
    After a brief pause, my father cleared his throat and spoke in his more normal bold, friendly tone.
    “Well, I’d want to see it before I make a decision, you understand.”
    “Of course, sir.”
    In the silence that fell over the room, I heard the shifting of scales outside the office doors followed by the receding of footsteps.  Once they had faded down the hall, my father rushed around his desk, stopping in front of Jackson.
    “What do you know about the marmoset?”
    Jackson turned to me and nodded.
    “You can do it now.”
    With a smile,