Chapter 6 #2
Ignoring the weight of my coven’s stare, I flip through the papers in front of me. I called a late meeting, hoping that Cin would be up in time to join it, but I’ll have to fill her in on it later.
Easton said he has more information on blood wards and how to break them.
We can’t get our people out of Streatham with the ward in place, preventing our entry into the Estate, so the only option is to take it down.
But time is running out on the deadline Delia gave us, and if we don’t come up with something soon, she’ll close the Banyan. Permanently.
“Easton,” I nod in his direction, “you first.”
He adjusts his arms over the back of his chair, his brown, shoulder-length hair shifting with the movement. There’s sweat and dirt on his bronzed skin. He and Devon were in charge of cleaning up Albatross—a punishment of sorts. Mostly for Devon.
“I’m still trying to gather all the information we have,” Easton starts, “but according to the Diviners, the ward around Streatham was created using the blood of at least five powerful Rogues—”
There’s a soft rap against the wooden door, and my gaze snaps up.
I nod to Phoenix, who stretches his long arm out to open it, and relief floods me, ceasing the senseless tapping of my leg.
Lucina stands in the doorway, the ends of her loose curls damp from a shower.
She’s wearing linen pants and a matching shirt, a warm color to her skin that hadn’t been there when she made it out of Albatross.
There’s a wave of energy rippling off her, magic replenished, and she looks alive with it. Entirely healed.
We’re all watching her as she hovers over the threshold, surveying us. Six fully grown men crammed around a messy table, making an already small room feel even smaller.
“What is this?” she asks finally, her lips twitching as she takes us in. “Bible study?”
Hunter snorts, and I’m tempted to smile myself.
“No,” I tell her. “This is a meeting.”
Lucina nods thoughtfully, her attention snagging on an amused Pax.
“Which you are more than welcome to join,” I offer, my gaze drifting to Devon. “And anyone who has a problem with that can leave.”
Everyone’s looking at Devon now, but I notice Lucina stiffen in the doorway, her lips pressed tightly together.
For a moment, Devon just sits there, his jaw grinding, his hands curling into tight fists over the table. The room is thick with tension, the energy swelling until even I’m uncomfortable.
Then, in one quick motion, Devon rises from his seat.
My grip on my armrests tightens, fingers digging into the leather. Right as I’m about to explode, Devon takes one long step across the room, grabs a chair out of the corner, and drags it up to the table. Right beside his.
It’s an olive branch. An apology in the only way Devon knows how to do it—with actions and not words. And this, an empty chair beside his…This is a good start.
Lucina hesitates for only a second before making her way to the chair, holding his gaze as she does. Devon waits until she’s seated before pushing the chair in for her, and then he wordlessly sinks back into his own.
I don’t realize how intently I’m staring at her until Lucina scowls. “I’m fine,” she assures me. “Gemma’s not worried, so you shouldn’t be either.”
Short of leaning over the table and checking her vitals myself, I’m left with no choice but to trust her.
I straighten in my seat, trying to remember what we had been in the middle of before she walked in.
“The blood ward,” Hunter helpfully supplies.
“Right.” I nod to Easton, who promptly picks up right where he left off.
“The ward around Streatham was created with the blood of at least five powerful Rogues. With Alaric and his Disciples being of the highest rank, it’s rational to deduce that they’re responsible.”
The thought of all five of them in a room, pouring their blood over a ward to keep us out, makes me want to fall back into old habits and hunt every last Rogue on the planet.
Every one of their Disciples is powerful, but Alaric has unprecedented magic, and I have no doubt that he passed it along to every Tenebrus that came after him.
Kage Tenebrus certainly had it when he stormed Streatham and ripped families apart like it was nothing. Like it was fun.
Easton continues, “Their blood put it up so their blood can take it down.” He looks to me, confirming with a grim nod, “And we were right that day in the mines…only Rogue blood can pass.”
I set my pen down when I realize how tightly I’m gripping it. “Assuming you’re right, and all five Disciples have blood in the ward, would we need all five of them to take it down?”
Phoenix perks up at that, for morbid reasons, of course, his mismatched eyes lighting up at the mention of blood. “Easton,” Nix pipes up, eyes wide in anticipation, “do you think we could pass the ward if we bathe in their blood?”
Easton and I glare back at him.
“No, Nix,” he replies, “you have too much Sol blood. You won’t trick a blood ward by painting your skin with someone else’s.
” Phoenix sucks on his teeth, and out of the corner of my eye, Hunter shivers.
Easton turns his attention back to me. “It’s my best guess that to take down the ward, we’d need at least one of the Rogue Disciples. Dead.”
I shake my head. “We can’t afford guesses.”
“We can’t afford not to try,” Pax chimes in, his attention cutting to me. I can sense the plan taking root before he even says it. “We can go to Onyile—”
“No,” Devon snaps. “Too dangerous.”
“It’s not your call,” I point out, sitting back in my chair, watching Lucina shift in her seat. The look on her face is unreadable, eyes locked straight ahead.
“Is that the only way to bring down the ward?” Hunter asks Easton.
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Exactly,” Devon says flatly, dark eyes cutting to me. “So we don’t need to sneak into Onyile in search of a Rogue Disciple. We aren’t equipped for that, and you know it.”
“I’m not hearing any other ideas, Devon.”
Silence falls. I look back at Lucina. Her brows are pinched in deep thought, but she remains quiet, deciding that nothing she’s thinking is worth sharing with the group.
Phoenix clears his throat, straightening like he’s just had the idea of the century. “Maybe we should talk to Aster.” His statement is sealed with a smirk that only widens at the glare I cut him.
“And why would we do that?” I ask through a clenched jaw.
“Well…” He clicks open his switchblade and leans back casually in his chair, using the sharpened tip to pick dirt from underneath his nails. “There’s an herb for everything, right? Maybe there’s one for slipping past blood wards.”
As much as I’d like it to be a terrible idea, it isn’t. Seeing as we don’t have much, we should see through any possible lead, even if that means—
“Who’s Aster?” Lucina asks, and Phoenix’s grin turns feline.
Dickhead.
I clear my throat, determined not to give him the satisfaction. “She’s head of the Floras,” I reply, gesturing to him from across the table, “and Nix is right. She might have something in the Greenhouse that could help us.”
Lucina narrows her gaze on Phoenix, growing more confused the longer she stares. Pax shifts in his seat, pulling her attention next. She looks between both of them and then to me. “The Greenhouse?” she questions.
“Flora territory,” Easton provides, jabbing Phoenix in the arm when he lets a laugh slip free.
I’m dealing with fucking children.
“Lucina,” I start.
“Ohh…” Her face lights up in realization. Lucina sits back in her chair, watching me with her arms folded across her chest, grinning like she’s just heard some good gossip. “You slept with her.”
Nix can’t decide who he wants to look at, swinging his mismatched eyes back and forth between Lucina and me. Pax and Hunter look visibly uncomfortable, and Easton and Devon appear to have come to the same conclusion I have: We’re dealing with children.
“It was a long time ago,” I explain, fingers flexing against the armrests, itching to throw a punch into Phoenix's stomach. “I haven’t spoken to her in months.”
“Okay…?” she drawls slowly, eyes moving cautiously about the room. “So then why is everyone acting weird?”
My brows lift. “Great question.” Sitting back in my chair, I leave the floor open for any of the idiots sitting around the table to answer.
Nix boldly clears his throat, but before he can come up with a reply, Pax smacks his arm one good time. He smiles down at his blade instead.
Lucina’s tongue darts out across her bottom lip as we wait in silence. No one opens their mouth to speak. Her gaze flicks up to mine. “Can we move on to more important things then, or shall we go through my dating history next?”
I want to smile. It’s right on the edge of my lips. But Pax’s scoff wipes it clean off my face.
“Not unless you want Callan to go on a killing spree and oof—”
The toe of my boot slams into his shin hard enough that his knee jerks up and rattles the table. I clear my throat and calmly look back at Lucina. “For the record, I wouldn’t kill any of your exes.”
She looks just as done with this topic of conversation as I am, rolling her eyes with a huffed, “Good to know.”
“I’d just make them wish they were dead.” I glance back down at my papers, stacking them, then setting them to the side. When I look up, Lucina’s lips have parted in a look of shock, and Pax is smirking.
I change the subject. “Alright, I’ll go to the Greenhouse tomorrow and see what Aster can tell us. Devon, please see what you can figure out about the Rogue Disciple's whereabouts, just in case we have to go that route.”
He stiffens at this, visibly upset by it, but I don’t have the patience to care.
“Easton, please pay a visit to Sedona and see what the Lakelets know about blood wards, but be mindful with your questioning. We don’t need Pirn in a state of unrest over the Ward until we know how to cross it or take it down.”