Chapter 53
Electra
Gael grips my elbows to keep me from face-planting. “Have you seen Ines?”
“She just left,” I say, shrugging off his hands. “Why were you looking for her?”
“To discuss our separation.” A deep exhale flares his nostrils. “I’m finally ready to let her go after what she did to us. I don’t want anythin’ to do with the woman who stole my daughter from me.”
It feels wrong that he calls me his daughter. I’m Yosef and Malika’s daughter.
I’m suddenly itching to call my parents, but remember the time difference. Not that that’s ever stopped them from picking up in the past.
Like when I crashed my first car. My parents were the first people I called, even though they were thousands of miles away. They stayed on the phone, talking me through my panic while I used my magic to heal the driver in the other vehicle before the EMTs arrived.
Or like when I set fire to a chicken dish I was trying to make back when I first moved to Boston. I’d facetimed Dad as I ransacked the kitchen for a fire extinguisher, only to be reminded that I had runes capable of drawing the oxygen out of the air.
I slide my phone out of my jacket pocket and tap my favorites list.
I’m about to graze Mom’s contact card when Gael says, “You sure?”
I look up.
“When?” He barks into his cell phone. “How many? I’ll inform the others… No. Keep your positions. I want eyes on them. Report back if they breach the perimeter.” He pockets his phone, his gaze roaming over the moonlit land. “You checked both Hunters for trackers? Their people are here.”
A shiver drops down my spine. “I kept Reeve’s cell phone. He mentioned they might track it.”
“Where’s it now?”
“I left it in Mal’s car,” I lie, feeling the cold weight of the device press against my breastbone.
Gael’s marked pause leads me to think he’s guessed its true location—the inner pocket of my leather bomber—but his gaze remains affixed to my face.
“You need to destroy it,” he says.
“If our enemies are already here, then destroying it is pointless.”
“I suppose…” With a sigh, Gael touches the small of my back. “Let’s go tell the others.”
I skip forward to get his hand off me, then maintain my brisk pace to avoid him trying to touch me again. I’m tempted to tell him he shouldn’t touch people without asking, but I suspect he’ll take it badly, seeing as he’s family.
I choose no explanation. If he tries once more to hold me in any way, I’ll explain that the woman he planted his seed in two decades ago did a number on me and leave it at that.
I plow into the kitchen, stopping dead in my tracks. “Mal! What are you doing?”
“Alexander and I were having a little chat about respecting our elders,” Malachi grits out through clenched teeth.
“Put my son down right this minute,” Gael growls, rounding me.
Malachi releases Alexander, who stumbles backward, clutching his neck.
Even though I’m curious to hear more about what prompted the chat, I decide to keep my priorities straight. “The Hunters are here.”
Gael marches in Alexander’s direction, sliding a protective palm on the latter’s shoulder.
“How do you know?” Dorian asks, looking away from the plate he’s handwashing.
“Otto reported that six unmarked vehicles just rolled off the ferry,” Gael explains.
“It’s my fault,” I confess. “They must’ve tracked Reeve’s phone.”
Dorian sets the plate down on the drying rack before wiping his large hands on a gingham towel. “Diego said there’s a video of their arrest floating around, so they would’ve washed up on the Vineyard, phone or no phone.
As my guilt begins to ebb, the ground gives a violent shudder and the night air flares amber-white.