Chapter 31
Chapter
Thirty-One
SIN
Pressing my fingers to my temples, I sighed in pure frustration as Asher and Gavin went over all the possible avenues for finding the weapon tied to my mantle.
Nothing felt right. In theory, they made sense.
Dirt from mass graves after infamous famines would be the typical instinct for anyone, but each time one was presented, I knew it was wrong.
My brothers had made it look so easy. Except Grim, since Lucifer practically handed him the weapon on a silver platter, but still. The whole point of famine was the absence of something. It was pretty fucking impossible to have something leftover from nothing.
“You guys are being too literal. We have to look at this another way.” Asher tapped his bottom lip, his eyes unfocused as his attention turned inward. “If it can’t be a literal famine, it has to be a metaphorical one.”
“What, pray tell, is a ‘metaphorical’ famine?” Gavin asked, skepticism heavy in his voice.
“A time of significant disparity. Where a small percentage of people seemingly have everything while the majority have nothing.” Asher was simply talking out loud, his words more suggestion than statement. Groaning in frustration, he squeezed his eyes shut. “Which is basically every time ever.”
He wasn’t wrong, but the moment his theory hit my ears, the answer came to me like a damn bolt of lightning.
“Let them eat cake,” I mused, my words soft and mostly for myself.
“What was that?” Asher asked.
Gavin, thanks to his vampiric hearing, didn't require clarification and smirked. “Brilliant.”
“I don’t know why it didn’t come to me sooner.”
Asher sighed. “I’d love to agree with you if someone would fucking share with the rest of us who don’t have bionic ears.”
“The French Revolution. Marie Antoinette. The most notorious and lasting memory of rulers who dismissed the plight of their people and paid for it with their lives.” Gavin’s tone made it clear he thought Asher needed to get with the program.
“Exactly. ‘Let them eat cake,’” I repeated.
“Oh, fuck, the guillotine!” Asher shouted.
Moira popped her head in through the partially open door. “That sounded like good news shouting. Was it good news shouting? Which, between us squirrel friends, is my second favorite kind of ejaculation.”
Asher and Gavin made faces while I laughed. “There was definitely none of the first kind happening.”
“Is that a yes?” Moira pressed.
I nodded. “Yeah, I think we did it. Wanna rally the troops for us?”
She gave a little two-fingered salute and clicked her heels together. “On it!”
Excitement hummed in my veins. This felt right. “The blade of the guillotine that killed the French monarchy in 1793. That’s what we need. I know it in my bones.”
Asher was already nodding his agreement. “I think so too. Not only is there a literal weapon associated with it, but the notoriety surrounding the time is basically unparalleled. They even have a fucking musical about it.”
“Do you hear the people sing?” I sang the lyric beneath my breath, doing a slow march in place, moving my arms in time with my steps.
Asher and Gavin watched me with comically wide eyes.
“What? I would have made an excellent Jean Valjean. I never got my time to shine.”
“Okay, Remi,” Asher mocked.
“Out of the two of you, Remi is much more fun, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Yes, I know. He reminds me regularly.”
I felt Merri before she stepped into the room, her energy pulling my focus like a magnet.
I couldn’t help myself, as soon as I saw her, I smiled.
Even though her expression was serious, her presence put me at ease.
Especially since the emotions I sensed from her were contentment and calm.
A marked difference from the last couple of days.
“Hey, kitten,” I greeted, immediately pulling her in for a hug when she reached me.
“You figured it out?”
“Yeah, we think so.”
“I knew you would,” she murmured, gifting me with a sweet kiss as more people filed into the room.
Lilith was the final addition to our group, her blue eyes sweeping across the room’s occupants until she stopped on me. “Well? What are we waiting for? Tell us what you found.”
“We’re looking for the Reign of Terror guillotine blade.”
Murmurs broke out almost immediately, but it was Kingston who was the first to pipe up. “You mean that old thing they used to display at Madame Tussauds?”
Sunday was more than a little surprised when her attention snapped his way. “How do you know anything about that?”
The shifter shrugged. “Mom took me on our family vacation to London. It was pretty cool, the sort of thing that leaves an imprint, ya know?”
Thorne shook his head. “I am baffled to hear you traveled outside of your pack lands before Ravenscroft.”
“You really don’t know me at all. I may have to revoke your wankmate status if this keeps up, Thorne.”
“So does this mean we’re heading to London?” Remi asked.
Gavin cleared his throat. “No, actually. The exhibit Kingston is referring to was closed ten years ago. The blade was then stolen and sold at a black-market auction.”
Crombie surprised me by stepping forward. “One of mine, actually.”
I glanced between the two men. “Okay, so where’s the blade now?”
As one, Crombie pinned his stare on Thorne while Gavin looked at Rosie.
“I certainly don’t have it,” Thorne objected immediately.
“Me either,” Rosie said with a quick shake of her head.
“No, but your grandfather did. Elias Blackthorne was quite the collector of oddities and wicked weapons,” Crombie said.
“His collection was notorious amongst vampire aristocracy.” Gavin plucked at his cuffs as though they needed straightening. “It was widely believed he was creating his own chamber of horrors at Blackthorne Manor.”
Thorne straightened his shoulders, chin defiant. “This is all news to me, but I’ll take your word for it. My father told me often enough about Grandfather’s sadistic ways and how he went mad at the end.”
“He said the same to me,” Rosie echoed. “Grandfather was mad even before the sun sickness took him.”
“Isn’t the manor in ruins?” Moira asked, glancing between the siblings before focusing on the younger Blackthorne. “That was part of your escape, wasn’t it?”
“Parts of it, but the dungeons would be below ground and mostly untouched,” Rosie explained.
“So if there was a secret museum of horror, the blade would still be there,” I surmised.
“We can only assume so,” Thorne agreed.
“Then that is where we will start our search,” I said. “Thorne, you’re with me. We’ll need you to show us where to look.”
“I’ll go as well,” Rosie offered, standing with one hand protectively on her bump.
I gave her a dubious glance even as all of her mates snarled their disapproval.
“Y-you’re not g-going,” Ben said through clenched teeth.
“Ben, I can be useful. I know the twists and turns of Blackthorne Manor just as well as my brother. Together we can cover more ground.”
I didn’t hate her offer, but there’d been a sort of unspoken code among the rest of us that the pregnant members of our party remain safely tucked away in Lilith’s sanctuary. These trips of ours had proven themselves dangerous, and none of us wanted to risk the mothers-to-be or their babies.
“I’m going too,” Merri announced before anyone could resolve the issue of Rosie’s attendance. “And before any of you try to stop me, the weapon is just as much tied to me as it is to Sin. It’s my mother we’re trying to end, and after everything she’s done, I deserve to be part of her downfall.”
“And you will be,” Grim assured her. “When it matters most.”
“You’re not going to talk me out of this, Grimsby. So figure out how you’re going to be most comfortable with my going and do it, because that is what’s happening.”
“Yeah, what she said,” Rosie said. Her attention was firmly locked on her shifter twins, who looked about as happy with her assertion as I was with Merri’s.
“Then I’m accompanying you.” Grim stepped closer to us, and his tone brooked no argument.
Chaos and Malice puffed up their chests as though they were ready to offer the same, but Lucifer stopped them.
“We can’t all go. Too many cooks and all that. We need to stay here and hold down the fort.”
Lilith groaned. “As much as I am loath to say this, Lucifer is right. We need to shore up our defenses here, and if our heaviest hitters are out there, we are at more of a risk.”
“Ben and I will go to keep an eye on Rosie,” Remi said.
“I don’t need a babysitter,” she groused.
He tipped her chin up. “Yes, you do, baby girl. You’re our entire world.”
“Great,” I said, slapping my palms together and rubbing them back and forth. “So we have Thorne, Grim, Merri, Rosie, Ben, Remi, and yours truly. That’s plenty of firepower. With two insiders on Blackthorne Manor, we should be in and out quicker than a virgin on his wedding night.”
With that, everyone broke off into different groups to say their farewells. I didn’t anticipate this taking long, but nothing seemed to go according to plan these days, so spending an extra five minutes for a few gentle words and stolen kisses wasn’t out of order.
Case in point.
Chaos and Malice crowded around Merri, the former glowering at Grim and me over her head. “Keep her safe. Or else.”
“Do you doubt my ability to protect our girl?” I asked, irritated that they’d felt the need to question either of us.
“Frankly, yes. But don’t take it personally. I would doubt anyone who wasn’t me.” Chaos smirked, making Merri laugh.
Malice brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “Stay safe, hellcat. Listen to Grim.”
“Just Grim?” I protested. “What am I, chopped liver?”
It was Malice’s turn to smirk. “I said what I said.”
“Can you believe this? I also hold the title of horseman, you know. Just as much of a badass as the rest of you.”
“Don’t pout at me, Sinclair,” Grim murmured, holding up his gloved hands. “They’re the ones who said it.”