Chapter 13 Esmerelda #2
“Right,” I say, pen poised. “We need to start a list of our enemies. If the council’s right and we were the intended targets, then someone out there wants us dead. Who all serves to benefit from our death? Marcus, let’s start with your list.”
I point the pen at him. He’s sitting casually with his arm slung on the back of the couch, but the taut lines around his neck suggest he’s anything but relaxed.
In fact, his dark eyes scream revenge. Pain and revenge.
Shit, I’ve been so busy accusing him of carrying out this heinous act that I haven’t stopped to acknowledge that he lost his family too.
His clipped tone breaks into my thoughts. “You assume I have enemies?”
Leonard snorts. “Only a dozen hundred or so.”
Marcus glares at Leonard. He shrugs. “What?”
I tap my pen.
“How about we start with the council members?” Min suggests.
Leonard shakes his head. “They need this union to work or they wouldn’t have suggested it. The alpha also only has three years left, and he can’t afford to end his term with a scandal like this.”
“Yeah, besides. They wouldn’t take out one of their own,” I state, thinking of Tallulah’s grotesquely petrified form, half human, half bear as she tried to shift during the petrification.
“Right. Truth.” Min nods.
“Let’s start with your family,” Marcus suggests, looking pointedly at me.
“They’d never pull something like this. Not murder-suicide.” If he’s going to start the blame game again, I’m going to seriously throw down. My wolf howls in my mind, begging me to let her at him.
“Still. Write them down. Write mine down too.”
It feels wrong, scratching our family’s names onto the paper. It’s like I’m etching the poison deeper.
We go back and forth, listing enemies, vampire covens, old grudges, political rivals. The paper takes up the wall until the sight makes me sick.
“You two have a ton of enemies,” Min mutters.
I can’t even argue. I thought I was fair in business, but this list proves otherwise. Marcus’s expression says he feels the same.
“You don’t get to the top without enemies,” Leonard says, clapping Marcus’s shoulder.
“These aren’t just enemies,” Marcus mutters. “This is war.”
Marcus sticks another sheet to the wall with tape Min had in her stash.
It’s washi tape, but it works. I step back, arms crossed, studying the mess we’ve made.
Names are scrawled on paper, arrows drawn, pages layered over one another.
We spend long minutes crossing off the least likely suspects with thick lines of ink slashing through possibilities, but the wall doesn’t look any less chaotic.
If anything, the chaos feels worse. No matter how many names we strike off the list, it’s still too long. Bile rises in my throat at the thought that this many people could be benefiting from tearing us apart.
My stomach knots, and a chill settles low in my gut.
This isn’t business or politics or even strategy.
Whoever is after us came for us when we were at our weakest. And I wasn’t there to watch over my pack.
In nature, wolves eat while the rest of the pack watch the tree line for danger.
Where was I? Instead of protecting my pack, I had a point to prove.
I had to act like a brat. If I’d been there, I may have been able to sense if something were amiss.
But I wasn’t. And now everyone is gone. All along I’ve been blaming Marcus, when I should’ve been there.
Hours later, the knot in my neck is screaming with tension, and I need to take a break. Min and Leonard have been snapping at each other nonstop, and I’m about ready to toss them both over the balcony for a timeout.
“All right.” I click the pen. Let’s all take a break. We can start again tomorrow when we’re fresh.”
“Good idea,” Min says, then points at Leonard. “And if you snore, I’m smothering you.”
They bicker like siblings until they leave, and Marcus and I share a look. “Silence at last.”
“I thought I was going to have to gag the both of them,” Marcus responds.
“It was close. Do you mind if we carry on with this in the morning? I’m beat.”
“Go ahead, I’ll take the couch.”
Suddenly, I’m bone weary. I don’t have the strength to argue, so I nod and head to the room. I hesitate at the doorway, exhaustion warring with something sharper. The words scrape my throat before I can swallow them back.
“Marcus… Earlier, at dinner. I wasn’t there when it started.”
His head lifts, eyes narrowing like he’s bracing for a fight. “I know,” he says carefully.
“I should’ve been. Wolves take turns to eat, the rest keep watch. I should’ve been watching. But I wasn’t. I was stalling.” I repeat my private thoughts, my voice cracks on the word. “Gods, I don’t even know why. Pride? Anger? Maybe I was afraid of what that table meant.”
For a long beat, he doesn’t speak, just studies me. Then, softly: “You think your hesitation caused all of this?”
“I don’t know.” I wrap my arms around myself. “But it haunts me. I keep hearing it, over and over. I wasn’t there.”
He rises, the couch creaking under his weight.
“Esmerelda, listen to me. I won’t lie, I had my suspicions, but the council cleared you—us.
You didn’t poison the wine. You didn’t turn your family to stone.
That blame isn’t yours.” His steady, unflinching gaze holds mine.
“You stall, you fight, you push back because that’s who you are.
And gods help me, it’s one of the things that may just keep us alive. Don’t twist it into something else.”
The words settle in me, heavy and strange. My wolf stirs, torn between guilt and the sudden, dangerous urge to believe him. I nod, then head to the room.
My laptop case on the bed serves as a stark reminder that I am solely responsible for my family’s blood business now. Gods, I better get the IT guy to forward everyone’s mail to me. I shudder to think what I’ve missed in the last twenty-four hours.
I set up at the dressing table, and within fifteen minutes, ping after ping comes of all the unanswered emails I need to attend to.
I start methodically making my way through them, answering those I can, making notes on things I need more information about.
We have quite a large deficit of blood from the stock take last week, and I make a note to have another count scheduled with an independent auditor on site to ensure things are handled correctly.
I’m not doubting Stephan’s ability, but it’s always better to have someone come in and double check.
After setting up a couple of marketing campaign ideas to go through with the marketing team next week, I lean back and stretch.
Once more, I look longingly at the bed, but I don’t have time to rest now.
There’s way too much to get done. I’ll just close my eyes for five minutes, then carry on.
I fold my arms on the desk and rest my head on top of them.
Damn, it feels good. Like I’m resting on a down pillow.
Sleep drags me under, and I promise myself five minutes.
When my eyes snap open, I find myself in bed. Gods, did Marcus carry me to bed? I don’t know how to feel about being so out of it that he managed to move me without me waking up.
Safe. The word pops into my head, and I immediately shake it off. I must be more exhausted than I think. How long was I asleep for?
I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pad into the lounge. Marcus is hunched on the couch, laptop open. I want… Gods help me, I want to sit beside him. But that would be weakness. Vulnerability. So I turn, about to retreat without a word, when his voice cuts through the silence.
“There are eggs on the stove.” He gives me a soft, peaceful smile that catches me off guard.
I blink. “Where are Min and Leonard? I thought they would’ve been up at the ass crack of dawn.”
“They went out for supplies.”
I cross to the kitchen and lift the lid off a pot to find the promised eggs. “Did you make this?”
He waves it off. “You’ve had enough to deal with. Figured you’d need something to eat.”
I honestly don’t know what to say. “Thank you.” I point to the apron covered in cupcakes hanging on the door. A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “Please tell me you wore that cutesy apron while you cooked.”
His mouth quirks into a half-smile. “No. But I can next time, if you’d like.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. I’m blushing. Gods. I can’t remember the last time I blushed. I duck my head, and Marcus catches my eye. He sees it.
Worse, he smiles.
I give him my back and focus on filling my plate so he doesn’t see the blush turn darker.