“That’s right.” Her pearl white teeth gleamed. “We want to hear all about it. What were the places you visited like?”
She adjusted her weight. When she moved, her body blurred and for a moment, her face contorted and I saw—
I cried out when my head throbbed.
“Calla!” My father stepped toward me.
My mother’s hand shot out and he froze. She stood up, taking very slow steps toward me.
Why was she moving so slowly?
With each step her figure blurred again. The pounding in my head forced me to keep closing my eyes. I couldn’t focus on her as she approached.
The mattress squeaked when she settled next to me. She placed her hands on my temples and the pain gave way to another surge of ecstasy.
“There,” she cooed. “Isn’t that better?”
I nodded, but I still wanted to cry. There was something I wanted to tell her, something so important that my mother needed to know.
I leaned my head against her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
But I didn’t know what I was apologizing for.
She stroked my hair. Her scent wafted into my nostrils—a stiff scent of parchment and red wine. I pulled away, staring at her.
“Feeling better?”
I inhaled, letting the scent linger. A scent that was not Naomi Tor’s scent. My mother always smelled of gardenia and ferns.
These scents, old, rich smells blending into a heady perfume, were familiar and they belonged to someone else.
“Lumine,” I whispered.
The moment I spoke my mistress’s name, her spell shattered.
The air around me crackled, splintering before my eyes. My mother had vanished. Only Lumine Nightshade sat before me. My father stood silently on the other side of the room. His eyes were bright with fear.
Shock welded me to the bed as the illusions drifted away. I began to shake and sob.
Lumine sighed, straightening the dark jacket of her Chanel suit. “That’s not very becoming, Calla.”
“You bitch.” I snarled, my teeth sharpened. I was about to lunge when my father shouted.
“Calla, no!” The command of the Nightshade alpha was still enough to pull me up short.
My eyes met his for a moment before I followed his gaze to my closet. The door was ajar and something was moving inside it. Shadows, thick as tar, undulating in the darkness. A wraith.
My stomach knotted up at the memory of the wraith taking me. A wave of pain crashed through my limbs, nearly sending me back into unconsciousness.
Lumine smiled. “Really, Calla. Did you think I would just bare my throat for your fangs?” She patted my hand. “You should know better.”
I snatched my fingers out from under hers. While I couldn’t attack her, I wasn’t about to play nice.
“Get away from me.”
“Restrain yourself, child,” she said. “You’ve had quite a journey, and it takes a while to fully recover from a wraith’s embrace.”
She laughed softly when I shuddered.
“I just have a few questions for you,” she said. “Then you can rest.”
“I have nothing to say to you.”
“Oh.” Her smile became chilly. “I think you do.”
I swallowed hard, glancing at the wraith in the closet before shaking my head.
“Yes.” Her gaze followed mine. “That’s one way it could be. Efron has been pleading with me to hand you over to him and Emile.”
Forcing my eyes off her, I stared at the window, watching snow buffeted by wind. My body felt that way: bruised and battered. The sun and sea of Italy seemed like a distant dream. And Lumine wasn’t the only one with questions. I was desperate to know what had happened after the wraith took me. Had the others escaped from the Eydis hideout? Were they prisoners too?
“But I’ve explained to him that I don’t think you’re likely to break,” she continued. “No matter how much pressure is applied.”
I offered her a thin smile. “You’re right.”
“Of course I am,” she said. “But we’re not without options. Are we, Stephen?”
“No, mistress.” His face was blank, but his muscles twitched with nervous energy. My father was unhappy; I could smell his grief, his outrage from across the room.
“Why would I do anything for you?” I glared at her. “You killed my mother. You destroyed my brother.”
“You’ve seen Ansel?” My father took two steps toward me. “How—”
Lumine didn’t speak, but she stiffened. My father checked himself, falling silent.
“What happened with your mother was unfortunate,” she said, folding her hands on her lap. “But necessary under the circumstances.”
“It was necessary for you to murder her?” My eyes were burning, but I blinked away tears as quickly as I could. There was no way in hell I would let Lumine see me cry.
She clucked her tongue with a soft laugh, and it was all I could do not to throw myself on her in a fury of claws and teeth. “Murder? Hardly, Calla. And I’m quite certain you wouldn’t see it that way if your mind hadn’t been so horribly corrupted by . . . outside influences.”
I dug my fingernails into the coverlet.
“You once believed in duty. In loyalty,” she continued. “Your mother failed in her most important role. And she paid the price.”
I glanced at my father, but he was still frozen. Neither looking at me nor Lumine, instead his gray eyes were lost in some unknown, distant place.
Lumine was still speaking. “Your brother’s punishment was a warning.”
“A warning,” I said quietly, a growl curling around my words.
“To the rest of your pack,” she said. “Treachery must be met by swift retribution.”
“He did nothing wrong.” I bared my teeth at her and she smiled.
“Didn’t he?” she asked. “Can you show me those deadly fangs and believe that your brother, who has always adored you, had no suspicions that you wanted someone other than your intended?”
Blood climbed from my neck into my cheeks as my heart began beating too quickly.
“Don’t you think he guessed you would risk your own life, and the well-being of your family and friends, all for a teenage girl’s infatuation?”
“Infatuation!” I shrieked. “I fell in love with Shay and found out you were going to sacrifice him! You wanted Ren and me to kill him!”
Despite my outburst, Lumine’s smile became more serene. The heat in my cheeks gave way to a creeping cold.
Damn it. She’d been provoking me and I’d just given her information. I didn’t want to give her anything. Except maybe some ugly scars.
Lumine appeared to interpret my sudden silence as submission rather than frustration.
“I can’t give you all the time I’d like, Calla.” Her voice wrapped around me like a python about to constrict. “But I’ve discussed this matter in depth with your father. Listen to him. Listen to us and everything can be all right. Even for your brother. And your pack.”
I met her eyes, searching for deception, but only found a confident, hard gaze.
“You’ll help Ansel?”
She nodded. “Everything can be as it was.”
As it was. My broken past made whole again.
“If you’ll help us,” she said.
I didn’t answer her. I couldn’t have spoken if I’d wanted to. My limbs were shaking, my head still throbbing, and my throat was parched.
“Stephen.” Lumine extended her hand to my father. He approached the bed warily. “Emile and Efron will arrive within the hour. Use this time wisely. As we’ve agreed.”
“Of course, mistress.” My father inclined his head as Lumine rose. She left the room with the wraith trailing behind her.
The moment the shadow creature was out of sight, I shuddered and slumped against my pillows.
“Here.” My father picked up a glass sitting on the nightstand. “Drink this.”
I eyed the glass and shook my h
ead.
He smiled wryly. “It’s just water, Calla. I poured it myself.”
“Thanks,” I said hoarsely, taking the glass. I looked at the clear liquid for a moment, wondering if I could trust my father. Wondering if it even mattered. The water eased the pain of my dry throat as I drank.
“How long have I been here?”
“They brought you in the night before last,” he said. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness because they let the wraith continue to feed on you.” He growled, glancing toward the door. “So you’d be weak for questioning, open to suggestion.”
“What do they want?” I asked, handing the glass back to him.
“They want you to tell them where Shay is,” he said without missing a beat.
I crumpled a bit as relief blanketed my limbs. Shay wasn’t here. He was safe. That at least was something.
“I won’t,” I said, meeting his steady gaze. “I would never betray him.”
“I didn’t think you would.”
He was watching me closely, but I couldn’t read the emotions on his face. Confusion, maybe? Worry?
“Your brother . . . ,” he said carefully. “Is he—?”
“He’s safe,” I said.
“Is he well?”
I began to shake my head and something burst inside me. I cried out, burying my face in my hands. My body shuddered as I sobbed, the recent losses finally overtaking me. My mother, my brother, Lydia, Silas, Mr. Selby . . . and maybe others that had been killed after I’d blacked out. What had any of it been for? After everything I was back where I’d started in Vail, subject to the whims of my mistress. Maybe there wasn’t any way to escape destiny.
My father’s arms were around me. I was too distraught to react, though I knew I should be startled. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d hugged me. He’d often tussle affectionately with Ansel and me when we were wolves, but that served as a fighting exercise as much as a form of bonding. When we were human, my father was always reserved. Now his shoulders were shaking and he was weeping as openly as I was.
We stayed that way, leaning on each other, both lost in grief, until I pulled away. Rubbing my bleary eyes, I turned back to the window. Though my room was on the second floor, it wasn’t a far drop to the ground. Maybe this was my only chance. Maybe my father would come with me.
“No, Calla,” he said, resting his hand on my shoulder. “There are Banes all around the perimeter of our compound. You might be able to fight off two or three of them, but eventually they’d overwhelm you.”
I turned to face him, unsurprised that he’d read my thoughts so easily. After all, he’d raised me to think and act like a warrior, always seeking a way to gain the upper hand.
“Can we talk?” I whispered, searching his eyes for any sign of his true feelings about all that was happening around us. My father loved order, control. His world had devolved into chaos. And from the way he’d just held me and wept with me, I knew something inside him had been ripped apart by what the Keepers had done to our family.
He glanced at the door, nodding. “They’ll have a wraith posted outside. But the room is ours.”
My heart was racing. How much time did we have? What were the most important things for me to know?
“Did they take anyone else?” I asked. “When they brought me here, were there other prisoners?”
“Not that I’m aware of,” he said. “But I’m not exactly their confidant these days.”
I bit my lip, realizing this was the moment. Maybe the very thing the Searchers needed.
“Dad,” I began, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “What if I could help you?”
He turned sharp eyes on me, and my heart skipped a beat. Did my own father consider me a traitor? After all that had happened, was loyalty to the Keepers still important to him?
“Help me how?”
I felt breathless, but forced myself to go on. “I saved Shay because the Keepers were going to kill him.”
He didn’t respond, but watched me closely as I spoke.
“He’s the Scion,” I said. “A descendent of the Keepers themselves who can destroy them.”
“If he’s one of them, why would he turn against them?” My father’s brow creased.
“He’s not exactly one of them,” I said, words rushing out. “His mother was human.”
“I don’t think that’s possible—”
“It is.” I took his hands. “Everything we’ve been told about the Keepers and Searchers. About the war. Even about who we are. It was all lies.”
His hands gripped mine, so tight it was painful, but I kept speaking.
“The Keepers twisted us, this world, so they could rule it. The Searchers are trying to change that. They only fight to make things right again. Shay is the key to all of that.”
“How can you be sure?” he whispered, eyes wild.
I racked my mind. He hadn’t seen what I’d seen. The Academy—the beauty and grace of the Searchers’ magic, so contrary to the cruel manipulations of the Keepers’ spellwork. He hadn’t fought alongside my new allies, didn’t have reason to trust them as I did. What could convince him? I knew I had to bring him around. His help could change everything for me . . . for all of us.
“Calla.” He sounded as desperate as I felt. “What do you know? We don’t have much time. Emile—”
He couldn’t say the Bane alpha’s name without growling. My mind crackled as realization hit me like a flash of lightning.
“Corrine,” I said.
“What?” He frowned.
“Corrine Laroche.” I squeezed his hands. “She wasn’t killed by a Searcher ambush.”
My father stiffened, but I hurried on. “The Searchers were coming to fight with her. She was leading a revolt against the Keepers.”
Meeting his gaze, I expected to find disbelief, but it wasn’t there.
“But the plot was uncovered and they killed her and all the other Banes who’d sided with her,” I said. “And when the Searchers arrived, the Keepers were waiting for them.”
My father pulled his hands from mine as his fists clenched. “You were only one. Just an infant when that happened.”
“I know,” I said. “It happened on Ren’s and my first birthday.”
“I always thought . . .” He paused, a growl rumbling in his chest. “That something wasn’t right. When the Keepers summoned us to fight, we went after the Searchers—tore into them at the Bane compound, chased them all the way to Boulder. But there weren’t any bodies.”
“What do you mean?”
“The Banes,” he said. “The Keepers called us to battle because the Banes had been ambushed by Searchers. But when we reached their compound, no Bane wolves were there, injured or dead. There were no casualties. The Searchers are hard fighters; they leave wounded and dead in their wake.”
“But wraiths don’t,” I whispered.
His eyes met mine, glinting like steel. He nodded. “The Searchers told you this?”
Though his own memories were offering bits of truth, I could still hear his reluctance to trust his longtime enemies.
“The Searchers filled in some blanks,” I said. “But I read about Corrine’s death and the trap.”
“Where?” he asked, startled.
“In Bosque Mar’s library,” I replied with a shiver. “At Rowan Estate. There was an account in the Haldis Annals.”
“Corrine was a good wolf,” he said quietly. “She didn’t deserve the life handed to her.”
“I know,” I said.
“I suppose it’s a blessing in disguise that her boy never knew.”
My breath caught at his mention of Ren. “He knows now.”
“You know where he is?” My father’s eyes went wide. “The Keepers told us he’d run off. Couldn’t take the shame of losing his pack. Like Logan.”
A smile tugged at my lips. “I know where Logan is too.”
One of his eyebrows rose. “Really?”
“They’re both wit
h the Searchers,” I said. “Ren because Adne wanted to save him . . . and I did too.”
“Who’s Adne?”
“Monroe’s—one of the Searchers—daughter. And she’s . . .” I realized just how much I’d learned and how little my father still knew. “She’s Ren’s sister.”
He gave me a long look, finally sighing. “Corrine and the Searcher Monroe?”
“You don’t sound surprised,” I said.
“You said before that Shay had a human mother,” he said. “So it follows that pairings between humans and our kind would have happened too.” Drawing a slow, deep breath, he said, “And no one takes the kind of risk Corrine did without something enormous at stake. Something like love.”
I blinked away the new tears that gathered in my eyes. “I know.”
The smile he gave me was kind. “You love that boy . . . the Scion?”
I nodded, drawing my knees up to my chest.
He watched me, frowning slightly. “But you also came back for Ren?”
My cheeks burned, as suddenly I was a daughter caught in an awkward conversation with her father. “It’s complicated.”
“I suppose it is.” He laughed. “And I understand now why Renier is nothing like his father.”
“His father . . . his real father . . .” I had to clear my throat to finish. “Was a good man. A warrior like us.”
“It’s good to know Corrine found at least a bit of happiness in her life,” he said quietly. “Even if only briefly.”
“I guess,” I said, thinking about the cost for Corrine, Monroe, Ren, and Adne. Adne was an orphan now, but she’d saved her brother. Did that balance things out? I didn’t know.
“Love,” my father said softly. “Real love, even in moments, is worth more than any of us can say.”
I stared at him, the clear gaze in his eyes forcing truth into mine.
“Who are you and what have you done with my father?” I cracked a smile.
He chuckled. “There are times for war—many times. But sometimes it’s necessary to risk speaking the truth of our own vulnerabilities.”
Watching him, my chest pinched with sadness. “Did you . . . did you love Mom?”
“Yes.” His smile faded. “Even more after you and Ansel were born.”
I wanted to believe him, but I couldn’t stop my next question. “But you seemed so different?”