Chapter 25
Evelyn
It figured that on my way to the most important meeting of my professional career, my father, who had been missing for twenty years, decided to appear.
Couldn’t he have remained missing for a few more hours?
Goosebumps covered my skin before I shifted. It was the human equivalent of my hackles rising. For once, my veil cat and I were in stark agreement. I needed to get away from my father.
It was the first time I remembered that I freely chose to use the veil cat.
She wasn’t a burden in this moment but an escape—a partner in my flight.
My veil cat’s methods might have differed from mine, but as with her instinct about Ambrose, she understood things I couldn’t voice.
We were one, even if she was a little more overt in her communication style.
Some new connection snapped into place between us as we finally understood each other. Branches and bushes flew by as I ran. My heart pounded in time with the paws pressing me forward. I didn’t fight her; she knew we needed to get away.
I wasn’t prepared to see him.
A low hiss slipped free as I thought of Ambrose stuck there with my father. It wasn’t exactly my finest moment, but Ambrose had told me to go. Maybe it wasn’t his job to deal with my missing parent, but he hadn’t seemed to mind the assignment.
Thinking of Ambrose reminded me I had somewhere to be. I could not miss this meeting. With everything else going on, the Vesten historian position hadn’t slipped my mind. I needed to impress the Vesten Point while I was here.
In tune with my thoughts, my veil cat turned slightly so that we were headed southwest. It felt like we were headed back to my original path—toward Vesten House.
I trusted her to get me where we needed to be.
She’d appeared when I called, when I needed to get away from my father, no questions asked.
This must be what Ambrose meant when he said he and his animal were one.
I wished I had more time to consider the momentous occasion that this was.
Trusting that she understood me, that we were in this together, was the key.
Something in me knew I could shift at will now, so long as I continued to trust in our partnership.
I sighed as I ran, wondering if it had really been that easy.
The path was just ahead, but I didn’t want to sprint onto it in my feline form. I might have had an understanding with my veil cat, but I still didn’t have the information I wanted about how she’d come to be mine.
Well, the one person who could answer those questions tried to talk to you…
He’d ambushed me in the street. How could he think that was the best approach? No “Hi, I’m your father, sorry I haven’t been around for twenty years?”
I sighed again, knowing that literally nothing he said could have made me listen.
I had thought that I was ready for the confrontation, that I had hardened myself against the sting of his abandonment, but one look at him, at the misery written plainly on his face, told me I was nowhere near ready to hear what he had to say.
My father was a problem for later. Now, I needed to shift back unaided again.
I knew I could do it, but my heart raced as I worried it wouldn’t work.
Ambrose and Lord Arctos were sure to be there by now.
They would discuss the options with or without me.
My theories could help. I just needed a chance to present them.
If Ambrose shared all his ideas, he would be seen as the leader in our research.
He’d get a head start with the Vesten Point and would be rewarded with the Vesten historian position.
My lip curled in a snarl, exposing my teeth.
Apparently, my veil cat agreed that we needed to shift as soon as possible.
I reached for my fire with force. Please. I pleaded with the veil cat—pleaded with myself. We need to get in there.
Was I talking to myself? Maybe. I wasn’t really sure of the mechanics. I knew that I could accomplish great things if given the chance. This was my chance. The flame ignited the shift back to my half-fae self.
As I stepped onto the heavily trodden path, I couldn’t help but smile. When I looked west, it wasn’t so much that I knew where the Vesten House was on the map of Compass Lake, but I could feel the tug toward Ambrose. For once, the connection proved useful, directing me where I needed to go.
A quick jog down the path brought the house into sight.
I sprinted the rest of the way, only stopping as I scaled the back steps of the house.
The heavy wooden door was more intimidating than I’d anticipated.
I knocked quickly, before fear overtook me.
When the door swung open, the last person I expected to see was standing there.
“Why are you answering the door?” I asked Lord Arctos.
“You’re late.”
My hands were on my hips. “I had to take care of something.”
“I see. You might as well come with me. They’ve already started.”
I forced my shoulders back. I wouldn’t cower under the weight of this green-eyed god.
Had my timing been inconvenient? Sure. Could I have handled it literally any other way?
Probably. But that didn’t mean anything.
It meant I was a bit hotheaded where complex emotions were involved.
But the problem Lord Arctos and the Vesten Point needed us to solve wasn’t a complex emotion—it was blood magic.
It made sense to me in a way nothing else did.
Lord Arctos walked through the large house like he owned the place. His legs were so long that it was hard to keep up with him and take in my new surroundings. I might have told myself that I belonged in this conversation, but part of me was still shocked that I was in Vesten House at all.
I’m not even fae.
I stopped in the hallway, staring at the wall.
A painting there had caught my eye. I knew I needed to stop thinking of my fae-ness in such black-and-white terms. It was time to acknowledge that I didn’t have to conform to fae standards to contribute to the court, to the continent.
I could make a difference exactly as I was.
The veil cat purred in my mind.
Maybe ignoring my fae heritage, and disliking this not-so-mythical animal I shared space with, was as detrimental as the fae looking down on my human heritage. I shook my head. I’d been staring at a painting of Compass Lake for too long.
Lord Arctos cleared his throat beside me. “The tour was given to those who arrived on time.”
My glare was immediate, and there was a twinkle in his eye when he caught it.
“Is this the creation of the fae?” I asked.
The painting depicted four fae on the beach in front of Norden House. Each fae leader received a gift from their god. This was what we needed. We knew the blood magic in question had taken place at the creation. Would these gifts serve as anchors?
Lord Arctos nodded. I hummed in consideration and followed him the rest of the way down the hall.
It twisted to the left, and I knew whatever room we were headed to would be facing the lake.
He opened a set of double doors easily, as if they were little more than an inconvenience.
The voices on the other side stopped mid-sentence at his entrance.
“Yes, Arctos, please just let yourself in.”
The voice was wry, a tone quite similar to the one I’d used when the Vesten God had opened the door.
The speaker was young—or, at least, he looked it.
Who knew with the fae. His shaggy hair framed his face, making him look both windswept but still utterly put together.
As I stepped into the room, his eyes tracked me, though he didn’t meet my gaze.
He was bent over a table, books open in front of him.
I took the opportunity to survey my surroundings. It was like the Great Room in the library, fully lined with shelves. A desk sat in the far corner, but the stacks of books and papers indicated it was more of a staging area than a place of work. I couldn’t believe I was in the Vesten Point’s study.
The male unfolded himself from where he leaned over the book. “I see you found our rogue researcher.” He was tall, too, and lean, much thinner than Ambrose, but as he strode across the room, something told me that underestimating his power would be a mistake.
With a glance at Lord Arctos, the male offered his hand. “Hello, Evelyn. I’m the Vesten Point, but you can call me Carter. I’m glad you could join us.”
I stared at his hand for a moment too long. There was a power in this room that I didn’t quite understand. It felt ancient and primal, and it hadn’t been present with me and Lord Arctos when he ushered me back here, so I knew it wasn’t the god himself.
“Well,” the Vesten Point—Carter—laughed. “Usually, I’m the one accused of being taciturn.” He made to pull his hand back.
I grabbed it quickly to shake. “I apologize, sir. And I apologize for my tardiness. Please don’t take it as a lack of enthusiasm for the project, or a lack of ideas on solutions to your problem.”
He laughed. “Carter, please. And I took it as no such thing.” He gestured toward the table, and without looking, I knew that Ambrose stood there.
I had known it the moment I stepped into the room and the tether between us loosened.
The awareness had told me where not to look.
I wasn’t ready to see what he’d learned from being left with my father.
Carter continued. “Your colleague explained you had an unavoidable conflict. He assured us you’d join shortly.”
Finally, I glanced up. Relief flooded Ambrose’s features, and I didn’t think it was solely from the release of the magical connection.
The Vesten Point continued, unaware of my turmoil. “We were discussing what Ambrose noted as one of your working theories. To discover if an anchor was used—”
“Because when an anchor is present, destroying the anchor removes the magic.” My hand immediately moved to cover my mouth.
Had I just interrupted the Vesten Point?
I glanced at him to see what kind of damage I’d done—if he’d ask me to leave immediately or if I’d be allowed to at least collect my bag, which I presumed Ambrose had picked up when I dropped it. “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled.
This time, Carter looked at me directly, as if my interrupting him had finally made me worthy of his attention. There were laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, and he was … smiling. He glanced at Lord Arctos, who only shrugged in answer to a question I didn’t understand.
“Yes, your point is correct.” He turned to Ambrose. “Or, at least, I assume that is the point Mr. Yarrow was about to make.”
Ambrose inspected me as he responded. He seemed to be searching me for something, but I couldn’t tell what. “That’s correct.”
“And does an anchor have to be stated as such?” Carter directed his question more openly to both of us.
Ambrose still stared at me and didn’t seem like he’d respond. I cleared my throat. Still nothing. I shook my head, needing to answer but unwilling to take credit for his idea. “Ambrose’s recent paper hypothesized that any object with a connection to the magic could be considered an anchor.”
Finally, Ambrose spoke. “It may have been my paper on anchors, but Evelyn was the one who suggested it could solve this particular problem.”
“Interesting,” Carter said. His gaze shifted between me and Ambrose, as if unsure who to direct his next question to.
I glared at the god standing beside the table. “Lord Arctos wasn’t all that helpful when we asked about any potential anchors from the creation of the fae, but I noticed the painting in the hallway. Lord Arctos bestowed a gift upon the first Vesten Point, correct?”
Carter shot a glance toward the Vesten God. “He knows that—”
“My apologies, we rushed you right in here,” Lord Arctos interrupted, before Carter could finish his thought.
The Vesten God rambled on. “This is a sufficient summary for now. Carter must attend to a few things, but he’d be delighted if you’d both join him for the evening meal.
We can discuss any tests you’d like to conduct with us while you’re here. ”
I nodded slowly, glancing between the god and the fae leader. Carter looked as confused as I did.
Finally, Ambrose approached my side. “I put your bag in your room. I can show you to it.”
Lord Arctos shifted into his bird form and perched on my shoulder. “I’ll let Mr. Yarrow give you that tour.”
My glare was lost when Lord Arctos flapped his wing against the side of my face and flew to Carter’s shoulder.