19. Ivy
IVY
“And you think this is a good idea?” Baron grumbles, lacing his fingers behind his head as he glares at Archer, who shrugs, but the tension is still palpable in the air around him.
Every time the four of them fill my dorm room, it feels more claustrophobic than the last, and right now is no different.
“Am I saying it’s safe? No, but it’s not seemingly safe here, either.
Besides, we’re all becoming a little more accustomed to Ivy at this stage, which means this can go one of two ways: we execute the plan with her at our side, or force her to stay here.
I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want to face her wrath. ”
I can’t argue with that assessment, and it’s almost nice to have it acknowledged, but it doesn’t tamp down the nerves threading through my body.
“I want to be there,” I add, making sure it’s clear from my lips too, and Baron rolls his eyes.
His lips part, another protest nestled on the tip of his tongue, but before he can breathe a single word, Archer clears his throat.
“I would rather the challenge of having Ivy at our side than control her. It hasn’t worked for us so far, and this won’t be any different.”
“Well, I think it’s an insane idea,” Baron huffs, letting his arms drop to his sides as Sax sighs.
“All of our ideas are on the crazy scale right now, but he’s right, Baron. Besides, if we’re all there, we can keep her safer than if we split up.”
“That’s fair,” Teddy adds, continuing to discuss the matter like I’m not here. “Besides, there’s no shielding her from the madness now.”
“If that’s all settled, can we run through the plan one more time before we leave?” I ask, inserting myself into the conversation again.
“I can manage the cliffnotes, but we’re already late,” Archer states, glancing at his watch, and I sigh but keep my frustrations to myself as Archer grabs my heels from the foot of my bed.
My breath catches as he eliminates the distance between us, dropping to his knees with ease before he reaches for my ankle. His touch is delicate as he lifts my foot off the floor, gently placing it against his thigh before slipping my heel on and fastening the clasp.
The room is silent, everyone tracking his moves as my pulse rings in my ears.
“I know you’ve met my father before, Ivy.
I wish you hadn’t, and I wish the circumstances weren’t so…
diabolical, but he relishes being that man,” he explains, fixated on the task he’s given himself instead of making eye contact.
As if sensing my thoughts, his gaze snaps to mine.
“There may be times tonight when I may… reflect him in more ways than I care to admit.”
My eyebrows pinch in confusion as a hand lands on my shoulder.
“I think what Archer is trying to say is that when he acts like an ass later, he doesn’t mean to. Mostly,” Teddy explains, his hand ghosting down my arm soothingly.
I nod, but it falls flat as worry threatens to get the better of me.
Part of me wishes I were back on the beach, being claimed in the water, where no worries or concerns for myself existed. I liked focusing on Teddy, but I should have known it wouldn’t last long.
A flash of red bursts into my room, followed by another, and I startle as Coal enters my personal space with Ember right beside him. “Archer, sir, your father—”
“I know, Coal. We’re leaving now. Thank you,” he interjects, and his sprite sags with relief. Standing, Archer straightens his suit jacket before extending a hand to me. “Let’s not make a liar out of me,” he breathes as I press my palm against his and he pulls me to my feet.
My shimmering dress ghosts against my upper thighs as I stay at his side, letting him usher me to the door.
I feel far too done up to execute a plan, even if I don’t truly understand what it entails.
I’m just happy to be involved. The pale, pink sequins glisten under the lights, while my hair falls around my face in soft curls, acting as the perfect shield from the rest of the world.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, two more hands land on my arms as we step through the flames, everyone unscathed, and we start down the path.
“How are we getting there?” I ask, and Archer digs his other hand into his pocket, retrieving his compass.
My throat dries with nerves. I think I might be sick.
“We don’t have to walk far; we just need a little more distance away from the sodality buildings for it to work,” Sax explains, and I nod, uncertainty frazzling with anticipation as I plaster my free hand against my stomach.
“I’ve got you, Ivy,” Archer breathes, and Baron grunts.
“We’ve got you,” he corrects as we come to a stop beside the treeline that marks the boundary to the forest.
“Here will do,” Archer murmurs, pulling his compass from his pocket once again while the others help form a circle.
Releasing Archer’s hand, I follow suit, completing the shape, and I take the moment to assess each of them.
They’re all dressed in black from head to toe, a stark contrast to my pale pink, and it only makes them look harsher, more jagged, and edgier.
Their shirts are tucked into the pants, top button undone with a tailored jacket draping their frames, but I don’t miss that they opted for black combat boots instead of shiny dress shoes.
Something tells me there’s more trouble than I’m anticipating on the other side of this compass, but there’s only one way to find out.
“Ready?” Archer asks, earning a round of nods from the guys, but his eyes are fixed on mine.
Gulping, I do the same, and as I take a deep breath, he runs his thumb over the engravings on the compass, and the scenery around us changes in the blink of an eye.
Gone is the lush green grass, the dancing wildflowers, and the oak trees casting the ground in shade, and in their place comes the thick scent of cigar smoke, mahogany furniture, deep-black walls, and an air of misogyny.
My spine tingles as I take in my surroundings, noting the shadowed corner we’re tucked away in, and I silently appreciate it as I cast my gaze over the rest of the room. It’s hard with the thick smoke lingering in the air, but it only paints the picture more accurately.
Dark-brown leather Chesterfield sofas are scattered throughout, broken up with dark, circular tables and deep-green cushioned chairs. There’s barely an empty seat in the house. The soft jazz music makes my heart ache, but I keep my opinions to myself as I clear my throat.
“What now?”
Baron’s hand finds mine, squeezing tight as Archer counts down.
“Three… Two… One…”
“My son does linger too long.”
My muscles clench at the familiar sound of Archer’s father, as the smoke seems to shift strategically through the air, offering a clear view of the man in question. He sits perched on the arm of a sofa against the far wall, men leaning in close to him, hanging off his every word.
He’s dressed for the occasion, but instead of the simple, yet effective, black on black like my hated mates, he pairs his black shirt with a deep-plum suit. The rings on his fingers glisten under the muted light as a sneer curls the corner of his mouth, and I feel completely out of my element.
“I didn’t want to interrupt,” Archer states, taking measured steps toward his father as I remain with the others in the corner.
Glancing up at Baron, in search of an answer, I come up short when he subtly shakes his head.
“You’re late,” his father states, and Archer dips his head.
“My apologies.”
“You know the rules out there. I expect a strong, dominant presence tonight. Don’t let me down; you won’t like the consequences,” he promises, and I gulp, gripping Baron’s hand tighter as my magic thrums haphazardly through my veins.
The last time I saw him, I couldn’t control my magic, self-combusted, and needed grounding by my hated mates. Even as I stand here now, time having passed, I can feel that same fury burning through me, ready to take action.
I feel like a ticking time bomb.
We need to move.
Thankfully, Archer nods to his father, taking three backward steps before he turns on the spot, offering the devil his back as he strides toward us.
“Let’s go,” Sax breathes, nudging us toward the door on our right, when wicked eyes find mine across the room.
“Miss Hayworth, it’s a pleasure,” Archer’s father rasps, and I gulp.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to confirm that I can’t say the same, but the way Baron squeezes my hand as he subtly shakes his head again confirms I need to keep my mouth shut.
“Hayworth? Not The Angel?” A guy startles, rising to his feet on the other side of Archer’s father, and I gape in surprise.
I recognize him immediately. Not by name, but he frequented my father’s cigar nights enough times for his face to be familiar. It’s distracting enough to make my anger falter, and I suck in a deep breath.
I don’t care about aggravating a monster; I’ve come across enough of them already, but I don’t want to cause any further issues. I will forever be cautious after watching Archer writhe in pain at his father’s hands, and I’d rather avoid seeing it happen again.
As my feet carry me out of the room, my mind lingers, a thought casting over me, and when the door clicks shut behind us, I pay no mind to the noise around me as my gaze lands on Archer’s.
“When your father…” I start, waving my hand, unable to find the words, and he thankfully nods. “Is that what it was like when you saw my father…” My words drift off, unable to complete a single sentence in either direction, and he grimaces.
“Close, but not quite,” he mumbles as I run my tongue over my bottom lip, finally turning my attention to the room.
My eyes widen immediately. A moment ago, I felt like I was in a similar environment to my father’s controlled, intimate parties, but none of those happened on the other side of the door to an entire casino.
Uncertainty wars inside of me as I blink at Archer, confusion getting the better of me as he stuffs his hands into his pockets and takes a step forward. He oozes confidence, power, and… corruption.