28. Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Monty
A nxiety and anticipation are conspiring to make me sick. I feel weak and my stomach is churning. But I can’t let any of that show. I must put on a brave face.
I’m about to meet with members of the Paranormal Council and it feels like my last hope. Mother literally laughed in my face at my threat. She doesn’t think I will do it. She believes me to be too much her son, too much under her heel. She thinks I’m eccentric, but she admires the strength of my magic. She is proud to have a strong mage as her legacy. She assumes it means that I am like her, twisted with dark ambition.
She has no idea how far the apple has fallen from the tree. But that is fine. Going to the Council is probably the better course of action anyway. It is probably the more moral. And something many would say I should have done a long time ago.
My knee starts to jiggle, and I have to concentrate on keeping it still. My thoughts start to drift to the other daunting event I have planned for later. But one thing at a time.
“They are ready for you now, Your Grace,” says the smartly dressed usher with a bow.
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
I step into the Council chamber, a space that manages to look both ancient and ostentatiously modern, like someone dropped a medieval banquet hall into the middle of a luxury skyscraper. The long table of dark mahogany gleams under the light of a crystal chandelier, and the windows behind it offer a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Three figures are seated at the table, their gazes sharp as knives as they take me in.
“Your Grace,” says Master Aubery, a vampire with the bearing of a CEO and the teeth to match. Her suit is razor-sharp, black as midnight, and her platinum-blonde hair is tied into a severe bun. Her voice is smooth but tinged with caution, as if she’s wondering what sort of chaos I’ve dragged into her day. Beside her, Gideon, a wolf shifter in a tweed jacket, drums his fingers against the arm of his chair. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, which, frankly, makes two of us. Completing the trio is Eliza, a human mage who radiates an ethereal calm that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. She’s the quiet one, the one I know to watch the closest.
I’m damn glad that the Grandmaster himself hasn’t deigned to see me. That man scares the crap out of me.
I bow just enough to acknowledge their positions, but not enough to make myself small. “Masters, thank you for seeing me on short notice.”
“Let’s skip the pleasantries, Duke Eastminster,” Aubery says, folding her hands. “Your message claimed you have information about a Revivalist cult. That got our attention. Elaborate.”
I take a quick, fortifying breath. Technically, I’m not a duke yet. I’ve not had my investiture. But being pedantic isn’t going to win me any favors.
I take the seat they’ve left for me, directly across from the three of them. The leather creaks under me, and for a moment, I feel the weight of their stares pressing down like an interrogation lamp. Fine. Let them look.
“The faction I have intel on is mostly led by my mother,” I begin, my voice steady despite the twisting knot in my chest. “Duchess Dowager Eastminster.” If we are acting like I am already the duke, then we might as well give her the title she is also going to bear in the near future.
I clear my throat and continue. “She’s been recruiting heavily over the last two years, gathering mages, shifters, and anyone else desperate enough to buy into her vision. Her goal is simple. Reopen the old portals, bring the fey back en masse, and then exalt in the power, wealth, and status she hopes to gain as reward.”
Eliza’s calm facade cracks, her eyebrows lifting slightly. Even Gideon stops drumming his fingers. Aubery, of course, doesn’t so much as blink. But I think I have proven that I know what I am talking about.
“And you’re only bringing this to us now?” she asks, her tone sharp enough to draw blood. “Why not sooner?”
“Because up until now, I’ve been trying to handle it myself,” I say evenly. “Family matters are… complicated. But this has escalated beyond what I can manage alone.”
Lies, all lies. The truth is I didn’t care, I still don’t. I don’t think Revivalists are capable of achieving their crazy ambition. But the Council doesn’t need to know that. And, understandably, even if they feel the same way that I do, they have a responsibility to take action, just in case.
Aubery leans back in her chair, studying me like I’m a particularly tricky chess piece. “Vague information about a Revivalist group, is hardly exciting news.”
I reach into my satchel and feel around for the manilla folder I have carefully prepared. While my hand is in the bag, I can’t help checking that the small, precious box is also still inside. My fingers brush over it and the feel of it fills me with relief.
I pull the folder from my satchel and hold it up teasingly. “Names of members. Details of their current schemes. And how they finance their endeavors.”
Three pairs of eyes fix on me.
I swallow dryly, “As a goodwill gesture, I will tell you that their current work is targeting ley lines, disrupting their natural flow to strengthen old portals. Especially one portal in particular. One that is on a member of the Old Blood’s property.”
Eliza stares at the folder, her eyes flicking over the manilla cover as if she is trying to read the contents. Gideon glances at it, and then returns the force of his stare to me, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“Assuming we believe you,” Aubery says, her tone still ice-cold, “what is it you want from us?”
I meet her gaze, unflinching. “Two things. First, I need your help to find my brother, Laurie. He is an untapped vessel of great potential. My mother has hidden him somewhere. She believes she can give him to a fey prince. He’s only seventeen, and he has no part in this madness.”
“And second?”
“A pardon for Jade.”
That gets a reaction. Gideon straightens, and Eliza’s calm shatters entirely. Even Aubery’s mask slips, her crimson lips curling into a faint scowl.
“Jade?” Aubery asks, her voice laced with disbelief. “The part fey who very nearly opened a portal, and who killed Baltazar?”
“The same,” I say, keeping my tone firm. “He was being influenced by the fey. He wants no part of them returning. His loyalties are to his human side and to this world.”
“And,” I add with a confidence I am not quite feeling. “The incubus, Gray, is close to perfecting amulets that will prevent the fey from talking to any of their descendents. I know the Council has been keen on that development.”
“Even if that’s true, and the amulets will work,” Gideon interjects, his voice a low growl, “Jade is a loose cannon. Why stick your neck out for him?”
“Because he’s the best friend of one of the few people I trust,” I reply. “And if Pink says Jade is innocent, then he is.”
The room falls silent, tension coiling in the air like a snake ready to strike.
My voice breaks the silence. “Pardoning Jade, is a goodwill gesture. A token of trust. It will enable me to know I am safe to divulge all that I know.”
I stop and tap on my head. “There is far more in here than I have written in this.” I shake the folder in my hand for emphasis.
Aubery exchanges a glance with her fellow masters, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, she turns back to me.
“Your Grace, you’re asking for a great deal. A pardon for a known criminal, and resources to track your brother, all on the basis of your word.”
“Not just my word,” I say, leaning forward. “The evidence in this folder and the knowledge in my mind. Consider this. If my mother succeeds, the fey won’t discriminate. Vampires, shifters, humans, we’ll all suffer the consequences. Stopping all Revivalist factions benefits everyone.”
Aubery’s gaze pierces into mine, and for a moment, I think she’s about to reject me outright. But then she nods, a slow and deliberate motion.
“We’ll consider your request,” she says.
It’s not a promise, but it’s not a refusal either. I imagine they need to run such an important decision by the Grandmaster. I’m pretty sure I won’t be kept waiting for long.
I carefully return the folder to my satchel, then I stand, smoothing down my jacket. “Thank you for your time.”
As I leave the chamber, I can feel their eyes on my back. The Council’s help is far from guaranteed, but I’ve planted the seed. Now, all I can do is wait and hope it grows.