Lilly’s group squabbled with Mortimer; Amelie was in the midst of a heated arm-waving conversation with Ivan, likely over her earlier deception. Julian stood next to the bookshelf with his arms crossed. His lips were moving. I figured he was having a one-way conversation with Max, who sat beside him. I had to assume Amelie hadn’t succeeded in her quest earlier. That was one shred of good news. Still, I needed to warn him …
Max’s brothers stood like sentries around the room, equidistant apart and appearing disinterested, though I knew they were far from it. Viggo sat in an armchair next to the fire, amusement on his face and poker in hand, a favorite position of his, I was beginning to learn. He caught me studying him and he smirked. I briefly pictured driving the hot poker through his eye, but I knew I’d have to get in line behind Lilly.
All in all, it was a regular supernatural circus.
I found Caden leaning against a window, watching the scene unfold, a crooked smile on his face. When he saw me, he nodded his chin, gesturing me over. Though I wanted to skip across the room, I moved slowly to check for Bishop. Thankfully, he was nowhere in sight.
“How are you feeling?” Caden lifted my chin with a finger to get a better look at my jaw. “The swelling’s gone down.”
Just his touch had me beaming like an idiot, only to wince in pain a second later. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Suddenly, the room quieted. I turned to find everyone staring at me, as if they had just noticed my entrance.
“The turmoil inside her is unnerving,” Lilly said, with a curious flash in her blue irises. Beside her, Mage nodded in agreement.
My skin prickled, knowing the entire room was now trying to break through my magical shell to see what kind of mess existed underneath. I couldn’t help but thank the Tribe’s magic for shielding me from the scrutiny. I’d never have been able to hide all these deadly secrets without it.
“It’s more than that, though.” Sofie frowned. “Do you sense it?” When no one answered, she looked to Mage, asking in a more insistent voice. “Do you? Do you feel that strange … pull around her?”
Panic rolled inside of me. “Pull? Magic? What does that mean? Sofie?”
Sofie didn’t answer, her full attention on Mage who studied me. I averted my gaze to Caden, to the ground, to the tree, to anything that would make me feel like I wasn’t standing naked on a stage.
Mage finally answered, shaking her head. “I don’t, but … that doesn’t mean you don’t. It could have something to do with your magic.”
I looked back at Sofie in time to see the fear sweep across her face. “I don’t know. It’s likely nothing …”
“I haven’t gone deaf, you know! And your reaction is not ‘nothing,’ Sofie. Stop talking about me like I’m not here, and tell me what you’re thinking, damn it!” I said. “I’m sick of you guys sweeping these Tribal magic consequences under the rug! Tell me if I’m going to turn into a hideous monster! Tell me if I’m going to kill everyone I love with a touch!” I was shouting now and I didn’t care. “I’m tired of waiting! I’m tired of wondering! I’m—”
“I don’t know, Evangeline!” Sofie shouted back, her voice cracking. She didn’t sound angry. No, she was weary and afraid and … drained. The room fell silent, its occupants watching the two of us teeter on the edges of our own nervous breakdowns. I felt a hand slip over mine, close over it, clasp it tightly.
“Your touch can’t kill me yet,” Caden offered soothingly. When I couldn’t return his smile, he pulled me to his chest, his one hand sliding up under my hair to cup my neck.
“Bishop…” I whispered.
He smiled softly. “I’ll watch for him.” That’s all the reassurance I needed. I burrowed my face into the ridges of Caden’s chest and inhaled his heavenly scent wishing everything else in the world away but this moment.
“See? I told you … rage!” Amelie said. “She went all crazy on the guy at the store before too. Pulled a knife on him. I was sure—”
I spun around to throw fiery daggers at Amelie, my cheeks blazing. Of all times to expose my earlier psychotic behavior, this was not that time. Amelie immediately clamped her mouth shut, having the decency to look away.
“Continue, please … Kait,” Mortimer spoke then. He sounded unimpressed that my entrance had thrown such a wrench into their conversation.
“They’ve infiltrated the army, the government, the police …” Kait went on. “We believe their army is in the tens of thousands. We have yet to locate their main stations. I don’t know how many of them I’ve coerced to talk. We get bits and pieces of info but nothing terribly useful. We know they operate in sleeper cells. We’ve found a larger presence in certain areas—Rome, Israel, England …” Veronique had mentioned England. “They’re so tightly connected, their reach so close to deadly force. We can’t just storm them, Mortimer. Attacking one contingent is setting a chain reaction that you want to avoid.”
“And it would trigger that chain reaction, without a doubt,” Mage interjected.
“Well, that scene today didn’t help matters,” Mortimer scoffed, adding, “seeing a child rip seven full grown men out of a van and snap their necks has people asking questions.”
“Bishop and I went out to compel the reporters and witnesses. We confiscated their phones as well. Everything we could think of. It’s hard in a viral world,” Mage acknowledged. “Someone’s personal pictures or video will surface in the next few days.”
“What else would you suggest I do?” Lilly asked with indignation. “Had I not acted quickly, I assure you that you’d never have seen her again.” I felt Caden’s fists tighten their grip on my sweater.
A brief moment of silence. “And what about that witch? Did you get anything from her?” Mortimer asked Kait.
“Nothing but moans and a mess. We won’t be getting any more from her.”
I shuddered, visions of Kait in a full leather outfit standing over a table with sharp, scary tools and a sadistic grin too scary to focus long on.
Mortimer took a seat on one of the couches. “Today’s attack, coupled with the events from New York, is leading right into this war whether we like it or not. The blood bank and that debacle at the night club is old news. These new gruesome attacks, though, care of your friend Jonah …” Mortimer’s head shook with disgust.
Mage’s mouth twisted as if she had bitten into a lemon. “Yes, he’s certainly leading it, but … there’s too much going on to be just him.”
“So he’s made others,” Sofie acknowledged.
“Yes, he’s building his army. Against me,” Mage answered smoothly. Her next words sent a cold shiver down my spine, solidifying in my memory that as nice as she may seem, she was still the most lethal of killers. “He knows I’m coming for him soon.”
“When will that be exactly? He needs to be dealt with, and quickly,” Viggo piped in from his corner, outside of the conversation. “I’d be happy to do that.”
“That means you’ll be leaving for home immediately?” Lilly chirped without missing a beat.
Viggo answered with another of his evil grins. “What a grudge you hold, little Leelee.”
I never thought I’d see a vampire’s face burn red hot, but there it was—Lilly, as crimson as a fire engine, her claws clenching and unclenching as she glared murderously at her father figure. I couldn’t lie. I’d be happy if Viggo stood and waved goodbye right this instant. The further away he was from us, the safer we all were.
“We don’t have a home anymore,” Mortimer reminded everyone.
Someone singing at the top of their lungs disrupted the group again. Caden’s arms dropped from my body and he took a step back. Sure enough, a tall, lean body rounded the corner with a relaxed gait and a bottle in his fist. Stopping to take in the atmosphere, he grimaced.
“Well, this looks like loads of fun … it’s Christmas Eve!” he yelled.
“I see you’ve found the wine cellar,” Sofie said as he took a long, sloppy swig from his bottle. “I believe that’s port. It’s meant to be a digestif, not for guzzling.”
“What can I say … it’s going down well!” He took another lazy drink, earning a giggle from Amelie and an eye roll from Kait.
Like a wolf with a newborn calf in its jaws, Mortimer yanked the topic back to task. “So then, where should we attack first?” The word attack sparked a new flurry of debate, full of shouts and vehement objections. Back to chaos. I sighed, silently wishing I could sneak off and hide in my room. With Caden …
Bishop caught my eye then. He smiled and winked, holding the bottle in front of him in an offering gesture. “Wash away your worries with me.”
I stood frozen to the ground, unsure of what to do, unwilling to leave Caden’s side but afraid to continue rejecting Bishop’s efforts. When raw pain flashed across Bishop’s face, I realized I had waited too long. My waffling was tearing him apart. I felt a gentle nudge on the small of my back—Caden’s hand prodding me forward—and I knew I had no choice. Forcing a smile onto my face, I stiffly walked over to Bishop.
“Looks like you’re not going to kill me just yet,” he whispered softly, holding his arm out.
“I’m not.” I hooked my arm within his, assuming that’s what I was supposed to do. It felt strange. It felt awkward. It felt all kinds of wrong, all the more so with Caden standing behind me. Casually tossing my hair over my shoulder, I stole a peek at Caden. Nothing but stone on that beautiful face of his. Nothing to give away his thoughts. I needed to be strong like that. For Bishop, for Caden, for me. With a deep inhale, I turned back with a giant smile for Bishop’s benefit.
“Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” he joked, towing me out of the glass room and into calmer territory. I knew that with each step forward, I was moving deeper into the charade, deeper into the deception, deeper into the world that I was not made for and yet was being molded to. Lies, treachery, false relationships. I wasn’t a victim of it anymore. I was now a contributor, a key contributor, some may argue. I didn’t think it possible and yet I could feel my intestines tighten into stronger knots.
Suddenly, the sight of that bottle in Bishop’s hand, the urge to drown my worries, overpowered me. I yanked it from his grasp.
“Whoa, there, little one,” Bishop laughed. I answered by bringing the bottle to my lips and tilting it back. Sickly sweet syrup poured down my throat, its flavor so potent that I cringed. I forced it down and took another long draw for good measure, impatiently waiting for the numbness to take hold.
“No one’s going to let you step foot off this property but we can at least go for a walk around here, okay?” Bishop asked. With a tiny noise of approval, I checked behind me and started with relief when I saw both Max and Caden shadowing us. I thanked them with a smile. In my peripheral vision, I saw Julian and Amelie trailing behind, arm in arm. My smile grew bigger. They were my friends. They wouldn’t make me go through this alone. We would face this together.
The six of us sauntered down the empty halls. “You’re still acting weird, Evie,” Bishop whispered, worry dampening the joy in his eyes. Unsure of how to deny it, I said nothing, biding my time with another long gulp of port. Bishop seemed more concerned about me falling out of love with him than about me turning into a yellow-eyed demon that would kill him. It just went to show how important it was to keep up pretenses.
“Don’t worry, Evie … I’ll give you your space, like you asked.” Bishop stared ahead but when I turned to peer at him, I caught the trademark grin. “That is, unless you come on to me.”
Burgundy liquid shot out of my mouth and nose as I choked, splashing the pristine white walls. My cheeks skipped hot and went straight to “on fire.” I instantly knew what he was referring to. That first night with Caden, after he had professed his true feelings for me, he had teased me, saying that I had attacked him. Damn those Fates for plucking the most intimate of personal moments and perverting them.
Bishop buckled over, laughing. “Nice art, Evie. Sofie’s gonna love that.” With the quickest peck on my cheek, he took off ahead of us, grabbing a mask off a suit of armor and placing it on his head. He raced down the hall, filling the air with maniacal laughter.
“Was he always this crazy?” Amelie giggled as I wiped some of the port off my chin.
Crazy. That’s a good word, Max echoed. I said nothing, hugging the bottle to my chest, its warm burn now trickling through my body, reaching out like tentacles to dissolve my worries. I could get used to this feeling. Then I could add alcoholism to my list of issues. Fantastic …