While I knew we all had important jobs to take care of, I longed to be doing something more productive than baking. But if Rhea was right—and she always was—these cakes would help gain Hekate’s favor, and the fact I was making them myself would earn me extra brownie points.
After I’d finished cracking the eggs, Rhea instructed me to beat them to form stiff peaks, whatever that meant. I went to work frothing the eggs, but after a few moments, I couldn’t stand the silence.
“Hey, Rhea?”
“Hmm?” she said, taking a pull from the brandy she’d used to marinate the raisins.
“Do you thing this is going to work?”
She looked up. “Put a little more wrist into it.”
I paused, realizing she was referring to my whisking technique. “No. I mean, do you think our plan will work?”
“Yeah, I knew what you meant.” She sighed. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
My stomach dipped. If there was any time I needed her to lie to me, now was it. But one of the things I loved most about my mentor was her no-bullshit attitude. “You don’t know if we’ll be able to convince Hekate to help or you don’t know if I’ll be able to prove that I’m the Chosen?”
“Stir faster.” Once I sped up, she answered my question. “I don’t know about any of it. Do I think it’s possible to convince Hekate to help? Yes. Do I think it’s possible you’re the Chosen? Definitely. But at this point there’s no way to know what fate has planned.”
I glared at the foamy eggs. “Fate.”
“I know you have this prejudice about fate, but at a certain point you just have to leap off the cliff and trust that things will work out as they’re supposed to.”
By this point, the eggs were thick and creamy. “Good?” I asked.
She took the whisk from me and tested the consistency. “A little more.”
I started stirring again, keeping my eyes intent on the task because I couldn’t look at her when I asked my next question. “But what if fate’s plan means we’re all going to die?”
Rhea put a hand on my wrist. I stopped stirring and looked up.
“Sooner or later, everyone dies.”
“Vampires don’t.”
She raised a brow. “In theory, but how many vampires have you known who are no longer on this earth?”
I paused and thought about it. Besides Alexis and my old friend Ewan, I thought about all the vampires I’d killed personally. Not to mention all three of the Dominae were dead and they were supposed to be the strongest vampires on earth. Looked like immortality wasn’t the guarantee against death I’d always believed it to be. “I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I am.” She patted my wrist and sat back with her arms crossed. “But my point is that few beings get to choose their last acts. Too many die by accident or as a result of poor choices or simply because they consorted with the wrong friends. But if fate decides that you’ll die tomorrow, at least you’ll go out fighting the good fight.”
I fell silent as I pondered these words. Hadn’t I argued pretty much the same thing when Erron urged me to give up and run? Still, it was one thing to face my own demise. Something else entirely to realize that if I failed, everyone I loved would die, too.
“Look,” she said after a moment. “I know what you’re thinking and you need to stop. We all know what’s at stake. We all know how it could end. And we haven’t left you yet.”
I smiled at her despite the strange stinging sensation behind my eyes. “That just proves none of you can be trusted to make healthy decisions.”
Rhea looked me in the eye. “No, it proves that we trust you. That we believe in you. You’re ready, Sabina, and we’ll be by your side until the end, be it bitter or sweet.”
I cleared my throat to dislodge the gravelly emotion that choked me. “Are my peaks stiff enough now?”
Rhea smiled a wobbly smile. She didn’t bother even looking at the eggs before she answered. “I’m proud of you, Sabina.”
I shifted my eyes away. “They’re just eggs, Rhea.”
“Look at me.”
I sighed and raised my gaze to her face. “More than anything, I wish I could be there for the moment you claim your birthright.” We’d all decided it was safest for her to go back to New York and make sure the mages were on red alert in case the plan went south and Cain took retaliatory action. The sincerity in her gaze almost made me lose it. “But since I won’t, I’ll say this now. You have every tool you need to succeed inside you. Believe that. You’re ready for this.”
I swallowed hard and tipped my chin in a jerky motion. But before I could say something dumb and ruin the moment, she nudged me out of the way with her hip.
“Now, enough of that.” She wiped at her eye with a dish towel. “Grab that ricotta and honey. I’m gonna show you how to make a cake so good, Hekate will worship at your feet.”
Chapter 29
A couple of hours later, my stomach was full and warm from the cakes Rhea and I had sampled. Once we’d declared the batch fit for a goddess, I’d left Rhea to go check in with Tristan to go over any last-minute details. I didn’t expect a long discussion since the mission was fairly straightforward and his people had proven to be efficient and well prepared, but I also wanted a chance to study the map of Irkalla some more.
When I knocked on the door to his basement room, he didn’t respond. I tried the knob and was surprised to find it unlocked. I opened it slowly, rapping quickly on the panels again. “Tristan?” I called. Again no answer.
I let myself in, figuring I’d just study the map of Irkalla and Nyx’s notes while I waited for him to come back.
I took another look around the room. I’d noticed the spartan décor before, but now I realized what bothered me about it. Most people have some sort of personal items in their living space. Photos, mementos, souvenirs—something. But Tristan’s room was completely bare of anything that might indicate he had a personal life at all.
Of course, from what I’d seen from him thus far, the lack of personal items shouldn’t have surprised me. While I’d witnessed camaraderie among the rest of his team, Tristan seemed to be always an arm’s length away. Even with Nyx, who had shared his bed.
I scanned the room for the map. Not seeing it, I realized it must still be in the meeting room where we’d talked earlier. I turned to leave, but a book on the desk caught my eye. It stood out only because it was the one item in the entire room that wasn’t perfectly aligned. The leather-bound volume lay at an odd angle, as if it had been dropped hastily onto the surface. I normally wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but given my father’s love of order, it made me curious.