Chapter 19
Idid not dally, quickly throwing on a pair of jeans and a soft cotton shirt to hurry downstairs. I did not often dress so casually, but given the hour, it did not seem appropriate to don a suit. Also, Jasper would have undoubtedly called me out in front of everyone for trying too hard, which seemed unnecessarily embarrassing.
They waited in the library, seeing as we had no formal sitting area. It was something my mother rid the house of after my father passed. Instead, she expanded the area into a ballroom—of which we had no genuine need, but it boosted her standing amongst the other vampyre families who were just as vain and vapid as she.
Calia sat curled up in a large armchair across from Jasper, Sloane, and Rowena, quietly conversing between the four of them. Castor stood behind her, eyes scanning warily around the room like something would jump at him. Brielle, whom I had not expected, sat perched on Calia’s armchair. I could not see Ballard, but given his exclamatory commentary, I assumed he was nose-deep in one of the stacks of books.
“Kept us waiting long enough,” Castor grumbled as I joined the group.
“Father,” Brielle warned, voice low. “Don’t start.”
I dipped my head. “Apologies, Castor. It is not my fault you are”—I looked at my watch—“two hours early.”
Ballard quickly strode around the corner. “Ah, yes. That was my doing. I assumed it would be best to pull our resources together as soon as possible.”
“What an excellent idea,” Jasper said, leaning back with a smirk. “Bring the whole family together, as it were.”
I caught Jasper’s eye in warning, but his only response was a wink. Ass.
“We are not family,” Castor growled, curling his fingers around the back of the armchair. It groaned under his violent touch.
Jasper smirked. “I hate to break it to you, Castor, but you are. Calia, as we can all see, is alive and well. Wait, are you well?” he asked, leaning forward to brace his elbows on his knees.
She nodded her head, hesitantly smiling back at him. “For now.”
He leaned back, spreading his arms wide before Rowena and Sloane knocked them down. “There you have it. Whether you like it or not, Rion and Calia are still married under Kallistos law. And if they weren’t, they would both be dead from the curse. So, yes. We are all one big family. Even Ballard can join in if he wishes. All are welcome here! Especially if they are standing against that bitch Leonora.”
“Always with the dramatics,” Sloane muttered under her breath, earning a genuine chuckle from Calia.
Her evergreen eyes danced with mirth, the first sign I had seen of the woman I knew who had lived and loved fiercely. Jasper’s words even earned a smile from Brielle, who shared a knowing look with my wife.
“Can we move past the unnecessary introductions?” Castor asked. “I don’t relish being back in my enemy”s home.”
Jasper, ever the smartass, opened his mouth to respond, but I cut him off. “Of course. Where would you like to begin? Ballard knows everything we do, since we filled him in during our visit. Nothing has changed. Sloane has been preparing for a tracking spell, for which I believe we now have the necessary ingredients?” I asked, glancing at Sloane, who nodded. “From my little knowledge, I know that placing that responsibility on one witch alone is quite the burden. Would you be willing to lend your talents, Ballard?”
“Absolutely,” he said, dipping his chin in Sloane’s direction. His eyes softened as he spoke, and I could feel the truth of his words ring true. “It would be my honor. And yes, I shared everything with the Darrows after our conversation.”
“Perfect,” I gritted out, attempting to block out his use of the Darrow name to include Calia. But that was not the battle I intended to fight today. We had more imperative matters to discuss. “That would mean the floor is yours.”
The silence lasted for a tense beat, our four visitors looking between each other for the soul who would be brave enough to speak first. With a dramatic eye roll—a side of sass I had sorely missed—Calia trained her eyes on me. “Where would you like me to begin?”
Preferably, how the fuck are you alive? Why have you not shown yourself, and why did you not plan to? How could I make you look at me with love instead of wary indifference?
But I could not ask any of those questions, not at the moment. They would need to be handled with a level of tact I was unsure I currently possessed. “How did this alliance begin?” I asked, gesturing between her and Ballard.
Jasper raised his pointer finger in the air, drawing our attention. “While the alliance is something we’ll need to discuss, I’ll ask the questions Rion won’t.” He threw a scathing glance my way, judgment pouring off him. “How the hell are you alive? And why haven’t you shown your face before now?”
Calia narrowed her eyes, knowing I was showing restraint by not asking what I wanted outright. Had she been hoping I would? Did the fact Jasper asked first make her think I didn’t care? That was far from the truth, but I could see in her eyes that she no longer trusted me. She was guarded in a way I had never experienced from her, and I would do anything to break down those walls brick by brick.
If that meant holding my damn tongue, then so be it.
When I did not refute Jasper’s claim, she began. “Let”s be honest. Tensions are clearly high, and if we have any chance of stomaching one another and working together, we need a modicum of trust.” She looked at her uncle with raised brows.
Castor bristled under her chastisement but could not deny he was allowing the ill will he harbored toward me to cloud his judgment. “Fine,” he growled.
“Wonderful. Now that that’s settled, I think we can begin diving into a very complicated narrative,” she said, sitting up straighter. She met every person’s uneasy gaze with false confidence, laying trembling hands upon her lap. “No matter how the events played out for us, each of you must understand that we were up against truths not yet come to light, and grudges that surpassed any we thought we knew. All of this is so much bigger than us, than the feud between Darrow and D’Arcy.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, leaning in. She had captured my attention as well as my heart. Whatever information she bore, it had the potential to change our lives as we knew them.
She paused, biting her lip as she thought of how to phrase her following words. “I mean that there is more to my miraculous recovery than you may believe. In the past few days, I’ve had to wrap my head around more revelations than I ever thought possible,” Calia said, looking down at her hands. “I—I’m not what you think I am.”
The room stilled at her words, four pairs of eyes searching for a hint of the truth, while three others refused to meet our gazes.
She looked the same—completely unblemished, given what had occurred. Her cheeks were flushed with color, and her red hair was just as vibrant as before. Had she not been burned by the moon on her way down, she would have been able to survive the fall alone. Fae were nearly as resilient as vampyres in that regard. But I had seen it, had I not? The irreparable damage caused by the combination of the two had been severe. The image would be burned into my mind until my final breath.
It had been plaguing my mind since I saw her. The question of how was on the tip of my tongue, but the words died as I sensed a new presence among us.
“What are you?” Sloane whispered, eyes wide in either horror or awe. I was not sure.
“She, dear child, is a goddess.”
All heads turned toward the back of the library, where a figure emerged from the shadows. His tall frame and broad shoulders blocked the view of the blood moon in the sky, drawing attention to his red hair.
A color, I noted, which was was identical to Calia’s.
With a sickening recognition, I realized I knew this man. He had been at Calia’s funeral, standing in the shade, watching as her casket was lowered into the ground before walking away. And again, in the atrium, in that wrinkle of time where I had been warned away from Calia.
All that time, I had wondered why there was an air of familiarity around him. Some itch I could not scratch. Seeing the two of them in the same room, I realized why that was.
“You son of a bitch,” I snarled, gripping my chair.
“Now, now,” he purred, lupine eyes gleaming with otherworldly power. “Is that any way to greet your father-in-law?”