Chapter 14
LYRA
Kenna hadn’t vacated the apartment all week. Her lifeless body lay on the couch in a cold medicine induced slumber. The trash can next to her overflowed with tissues and empty bottles of NyQuil. A sinus infection had hit her hard, and I hoped it wasn’t coming for me next.
Surprisingly, the past couple of days had felt strangely normal. I went to class, studied, and even had time to start a new true crime documentary. I still found myself looking over my shoulder, expecting to see those amber eyes that haunted my dreams. But Grey had kept his distance.
I packed up my backpack and trekked across campus, excited to spend a quiet Friday night in the library.
I stopped at the café on the corner of campus to pick up my mobile order.
My name was sloppily written on one of the many iced coffees littering the counter.
I guess I wasn’t the only one expecting a late night.
The library was a ghost town, which meant I got my pick of tables, a privilege typically reserved for those who arrived first thing in the morning. I sat at my favorite—a table in the back, hidden between rows of bookshelves—and got to work.
After an hour, the lights overhead flickered. I stopped writing mid-sentence, dragging my eyes away from my computer screen to look around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but the silence I typically found comforting now made my stomach twist.
I shoved my headphones in, trying to focus on the task at hand, letting the music drown out the unsettling silence.
I had just selected a song from my Get Shit Done playlist when the chair on the other side of the table scraped across the floor.
I lifted my head to find a broody Grey, a frown plastered on that stupid-handsome face of his.
An audible sigh escaped my lips as he sat. I pushed up my wire-rimmed glasses that slid down the bridge of my nose, removed my headphones, and crossed my arms.
The black T-shirt he wore exposed the snake tattoos wrapped around his forearm. The snake looked like it was slithering toward his hand each time he flexed.
“Don’t act like you aren’t excited to see me.” Grey’s raspy voice grated against the silence.
I stirred my iced coffee I’d barely touched, and took a long sip, trying my best to ignore his presence.
“Wild Friday night,” he said, taking in my disheveled appearance—the oversized sweatshirt, leggings, messy bun, and dark circles. I sank lower in my chair, suddenly self-conscious.
“Are you here to threaten me again?”
“I’m just checking in,” he said, that smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
Heat spread up my chest to my cheeks, staining them bright red. I prayed the awful fluorescent lighting didn’t put it on full display, but the look he gave me said otherwise. It was maddening. I hated how easily he affected me, how just a look—that damn smirk—could send my pulse into a frenzy.
“Lucky me,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. Trying to salvage the little dignity I had left. The library was my sanctuary, my place of quiet and focus. Yet he sat there like he owned every damn inch of it. He stretched out his legs in front of him, knocking my Converse with his boot.
“This doesn’t look like schoolwork.” He said, gathering the loose-leaf paper strewn about the table.
“I might be researching other, more important topics. Because I’d like to retain ownership of my soul.”
“Find anything interesting?” The room seemed to shrink as his attention honed in on me.
I should not be attracted to this walking red flag. But here I was, all hot and bothered by an actual demon.
“No,” I admitted. “But my resources are limited.”
Grey stood from his chair, causing me to strain my neck to meet his gaze. My traitorous heart thumped in my chest as he walked around the table, placing his arms on either side of me.
My mouth was too dry to speak.
“Want a closer look,” he cooed, “see what you’ll be working with.”
Words. I needed them, but my brain couldn’t think past the lingering warmth of his lips on my ear. Without thinking, I turned my head toward his voice. We were so close now that if I moved ever so slightly, our lips would touch.
My phone vibrated on the table, breaking the tension. I shot out of my chair, my hand instinctively reaching across the table to silence the call. But whoever it was called right back.
“Hello?” I asked, turning around to meet Grey’s stare. He forced me backward, my ass resting on the edge of the table.
“Where are you? We have family dinner in an hour.” Kenna’s congested voice came from the other end of the line. The familiar tension in my shoulders returned.
“Family dinner…tonight?”
“Yeah,” Kenna managed to get out in between coughs that sounded like she was hacking up a lung.
“Okay, I’m at the library. I’m leaving now.” My grip tightened around my phone, bringing it to my chest as I hung up.
“Family dinner?” Grey asked, moving closer. “How adorable.”
“It’s not exactly the family dinner you’re thinking of. These are reserved for important matters, and attendance is mandatory.” I regurgitated the bullshit our parents used to spew at us when we were children.
I mindlessly dialed Emory, balancing the phone on my shoulder as I started shoving everything into my backpack. She picked up on the third ring, her voice cutting through the static of my mind.
“Hey. Family dinner at the Whitethorn’s in an hour.”
“Are you kidding? It’s Friday night.” Emory sighed.
“I know. Cal is going to flip his lid.” I said, zipping up my backpack. “I’ll see you soon.” I hung up before Emory had a chance to say goodbye.
“You’re going back to Devin’s house?” Grey pinned me with a scathing glare. “I need you to get something for me.”
“No, whatever it is. The answer is no,” I screeched, nervous energy exploding through me.
“It’s a spellbook.”
“Whose spellbook?” I asked, making sure I didn’t leave anything behind on the table.
“It doesn’t matter, but Devin has it, and I need it.”
“Mr. Whitethorn? I will absolutely not be getting that for you, then. He’s absolutely terrifying. I really don’t want to end up murdered and buried in his basement.”
“That book is our best chance at removing the collar.” His hands flew to his neck.
“No,” I repeated.
Grey leaned forward, trailing his tongue over the shell of my ear. “I can practically taste your fear, little witch, and I want to devour you whole.”
Holy shit. Was his tongue forked?
I placed my unsteady hands against his chest, pushing him backward, but not before feeling the muscles hidden under his sweatshirt.
I scribbled down my phone number on a piece of paper. “Text me the details about the book.” I shoved the crumpled paper into his hand before sprinting out of the library.
Family dinners were planned weeks, if not months, in advance—not with just a few hours’ notice.
Traditionally, each founding family hosted one dinner a year when we were younger, but as time passed, they were only held for important matters.
The important matter for this meeting was someone freeing a demon from the Whitethorn’s basement.
My phone buzzed, and The Council Meeting, our group chat, illuminated the screen.
Kenna: Family dinner, my house at 7. Eli, if you miss this dinner, your dad will skin you alive.
No one replied, but we’d all be there. Attendance was mandatory. Except for Dad, who wouldn’t be making an appearance tonight.
Kenna was already dressed and waiting for me in the living room. She looked much better than when I left.
“Do you know what this is about?” I pressed, hoping to get any information to ease the knot in my stomach.
“No clue, but Dad sounded like it was an urgent matter.”
I nodded, my nerves building. I slid into a horrible mustard yellow cocktail dress, wiping my sweaty palms on the stiff fabric.
The dress was both hideous and uncomfortable, but it was the only option that wasn’t too short or too tight.
I pulled my hair into a slick back bun and wiggled my toes into a pair of nude open-toe heels.
“Alrighty, I’m ready.” I swiped my car keys off the counter and followed Kenna out the door, locking it behind us.
Luckily, there was no traffic. Silence filled the car. Only an occasional sniffle or cough came from Kenna, who was slumped over in the passenger seat.
My mind reeled, thinking of every single possible explanation for why this dinner had been called. By the time I pulled into the Whitethorn’s driveway, I’d played out every possible scenario in my head. And I hadn’t come up with any more pressing issue than a demon loose in Twisted Spires.
A few cars were parked in the driveway, but Cal’s jeep was nowhere in sight. That wasn’t surprising, considering the drive from Northern Virginia University took at least an hour, and nearly double that if I was behind the wheel.
The rest of the Abbot family had already arrived. Cal’s mother and little sister sat in the living room, conversing with Emory as the men stood by the bar discussing business. Each was dressed in a tailored suit with natural lines and sharp creases.
“Kenna. Lyra.” Cal’s mom, Florence, waved us over to the couch. “How are you girls?”
I claimed the seat next to her, completely avoiding eye contact with Mr. Whitethorn. Kenna sat alone on the loveseat, keeping a safe distance. I shifted from side to side, trying to find a comfortable sitting position, and failed.
“Not too great.” Kenna coughed into the crook of her elbow.
“Drink some tea, darling.” Mrs. Abbot poured us each a cup.
I added an extra spoonful of sugar, stirring it around until it dissolved.