Chapter 47
Chapter Forty-Seven
CHARLI
Macklin’s phone rings in the early hours of the morning, and he immediately sits up and grabs it. Worried it might be Teague, I push myself up and wait.
“Any idea on when?” Macklin asks quietly, getting up to grab his jeans and put them on.
Teague?
Raine.
I’m relieved it’s not Teague, but Raine calling Macklin in the middle of the night isn’t a good sign either. A shadow appears in the doorway, and I see Andros tugging on his gloves. I slip out of bed and move closer to him.
“Raine,” I whisper.
Macklin hangs up and turns toward us. “Raine had a vision of a small force attacking Greystone. Maybe forty to fifty. In three days. We need to mobilize.”
“While you alert the town, I’ll call Teague,” Andros states, running a hand through his hair. “Does she know if they’re human or supes?”
“She saw both, but isn’t sure how many of each. Humans were well-armed. With unusual bullets that looked like small darts,” Macklin says, pulling on a dark henley and boots.
“HRC had something similar,” Andros recalls. “If it’s them, we’ve got a battle on our hands. I’ll get dressed.”
“Hey, it’s Andros,” I hear him say as he walks away. “Charli’s fine. But we need you back here ASAP. Raine?—”
That’s all I hear before I’m running to jump in the shower and get dressed myself. When I walk into the living room thirty minutes later, it’s full of people I don’t recognize. Mostly men. I hesitate, searching for Macklin or Andros.
“Charli,” a familiar voice says behind me, and I spin around to find Leif standing there. “Don’t worry. Most of them don’t bite. And the rest know it isn’t worth the trouble they’d find if they tried.”
“I wouldn’t mind a bite,” a dark, velvety voice says from the corner. “Who might this be?”
A man steps from the shadows of the wall, and swallowing hard, I move closer to Leif. With his tousled blond hair, sparkling ocean-blue eyes, and wicked smile, he looks like a surfer, but the hairs on my arm are standing up in warning.
Leif growls. “Macklin, Teague, and Andros’ mate.” Instead of looking fearful, the man appears to be intrigued. “She’s also an honorary member of my clan and, therefore, under my protection.”
“Walk away, Max,” a low voice warns him, and I turn to see Elijah standing there, his golden-brown eyes fixed on the man.
Max, the warlock who’s supposed to be following Clarissa, but I’m not sure if the others know, so I don’t say anything.
“So many protectors,” Max mocks, tilting his head to study me. “You don’t look dangerous.” He holds out his hand. “Want to tell me my future?” Proving he knew who I was all along.
I give a nonchalant shrug, although that’s the last thing I feel. “As long as you’re okay with me seeing your past.” I extend my hand.
He tucks his hand into his pocket and takes a step away. “Perhaps another time.” Then he saunters off, like he hasn’t a care in the world, but I saw the flash of concern in his eyes.
“Well played,” Elijah murmurs before he returns to the group gathered around the kitchen island.
Leif stays pretty close until Macklin and Andros return.
Macklin frowns when he sees me. “Sorry, love. I went to check the alarms. Thought you were sleeping.” He locks eyes with Andros and raises a brow.
“She wasn’t here when I went downstairs to grab the food from the delivery guy,” Andros says, taking the bags of food he’s holding to the island. He returns and narrows his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I tell him, and he turns to Leif. “What happened?”
Leif lifts a shoulder. “Max walked out of the shadows to say hello to your mate.” There’s an underlying current of meaning in his voice. He smiles down at me. “I’ll leave you three to chat.”
“Isn’t he supposed to be following Clarissa?” I ask Macklin.
“She disappeared last night,” Macklin replies, spearing a hand through his hair. “Left all her stuff behind.”
“That’s damning.”
“Doesn’t look good,” Macklin agrees with a frown. An argument breaks out around the island, and Macklin glances at me. “We’re planning our defense. You’re welcome to stay and listen.”
“I’m not Teague, but let’s get you a coffee.” Andros says, holding out a gloved hand, and I gratefully slip mine into it.
Several heads turn as we walk over to the machine. Needing something familiar, I make my Campfire Mocha with a touch of chocolate syrup on top of the whipped cream.
“Are you making coffee?” a familiar voice says, and I turn around to see Ames staring at my machine with hope in his eyes.
“How’s Mavros?” I ask him, getting down another cup.
“The same,” he replies with a shrug.
I nod, knowing it’s going to take a while for him to get over it. “What kind of coffee would you like? I can make a black coffee, espresso, or something fancy,” I offer, holding up my drink, and his emerald-green eyes light up.
“Black’s fine, thanks,” he says, although his gaze darts to my cup like he can’t help himself.
“How about a Campfire Mocha?” I reply, holding out the one I just finished making.
He weakly protests, then quickly snatches it. “Thanks, this will be fine.” He takes a drink and closes his eyes in pure bliss. “Send me the recipe.” Then he walks off.
Andros turns to me and raises an amused eyebrow. “Who would have thought?”
I sniff. “Everybody but you.”
A man with his long brown hair tied back in a bun comes over. “Andros.” He turns to me and introduces himself. “Charli, is it? I’m TJ.” He peers at the machine. “I hear you’re making coffee? I’ll have whatever you made for Ames.”
Andros clenches his jaw. “She didn’t make it for Ames.”
I chuckle. “Sure, no problem.” After TJ, several others come over, and I make them coffee too. Finally, the flood stops, and I make one for me again.
“Can I have a sip?” a familiar voice asks.
“Teague,” I murmur, whipping around and falling into his arms.
He picks me up, and I wrap my legs around him, squeezing him tight. It feels like forever since I’ve seen him, been in his arms. Tilting my head back, I stare at his four-day scruff.
“I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart,” he says, tightening his arms.
His lips crash into mine as he opens his heart and lets me see all the times he thought of me. Someone whistles, and I shyly pull away.
Teague scowls and jerks his head around to glare at someone. “Keep your fucking comments to yourself.” Several people laugh. Teague sets me down and grabs my hand. “I want to introduce you to Ronan and Alejandro.”
Andros follows the two of us over to where two men are standing in the corner. With their wide stances, alert eyes, and combat fatigues, they scream warrior. I can easily picture them swinging massive swords and battling the most fearsome of enemies.
“This is Ronan,” Teague says, dipping his chin toward the man in front of me.
Shaved head, a cross tattooed on his face along with a drop of blood, and the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. He dips his chin. “It’s nice to meet you, Charli. I’ve heard a lot about you.” His deep voice is polite, but there’s a hint of curiosity in his tone.
“All good things, I hope,” I say with a smile, and he nods.
“This is Alejandro,” Teague says, motioning to the other man.
With dark, chin-length, tousled locks with the slightest bit of curl and deep forest green eyes, he’s as stunning as you’d expect from vampire royalty. A crown with a drop of blood is tattooed on his strong, aristocratic face. “Hello, Charli.”
I look around and frown. “I take it you didn’t find Kian?”
“Not yet,” Ronan replies, a hint of worry in his tone.
“I’m sorry. Hopefully, after this little battle is over, you can return to your search. I’m sure Teague will be happy to help,” I tell them.
Teague squeezes my hand.
Thank you. They mean a lot to me.
Ronan raises an eyebrow. “Little battle?”
I lift a shoulder. “Compared to a horde of vampires, I’m sure you’ll find this nothing but a skirmish.” I glance at my phone, then wink at Teague, who’s staring at me with a broad grin on his gorgeous face. “Please excuse me.”
Andros falls in step beside me and chuckles. “You’re quite right. This is nothing compared to the battles they fought long ago.” He escorts me to Teague’s bedroom. “We need to go into work and make sure everyone’s prepared to work from home the next week. Then we’re sending everyone home.”
Andros turns to me and kisses me hard on the lips. “I’ll meet you in the living room in twenty minutes.” He walks down the hallway to the stairs on the right. I guess his bedroom is on another floor. I walk into the bedroom I share with Teague.
“Who knew Andros had it in him?” a voice murmurs, and I turn around to see Clarissa standing there with a gun in her hand. “Don’t say a word, and I’ll be gone before you can blink, okay?”
I nod, my heart pounding with fear. I’m supposed to be immortal, but unless you die, how can you be sure? And I really, really don’t want to die. I finally found the family I’ve always wanted.
Keep her talking. Macklin’s calm voice orders in my head.
“I’m not the mole, but you’re right to suspect someone,” she grits out, her mouth pressed together.
“Most of the witches here don’t travel to the other Vales.
They’re too scared of the big bad world.
But I do. Macklin’s fair. He treats everyone equally, regardless of their power level.
That’s not the case in the other Vales, and some witches have decided to take matters into their own hands. ”
“Who leads them?” Macklin asks, leaning against the doorway.
“I don’t know, but once you sicced Max on me, I knew you thought it was me or someone who wanted to frame me.”
He frowns. “Are you trying to tell us Maureen is the mole? She’d never put Raine in danger.”
“Think about it,” she urges him. “Which facility had the fewest guards? The least resistance? Almost like someone left the door open? Probably not the one with Raine in it. Maureen wanted you to save her daughter, but only because there was too high a chance they would relocate her.”
She puts the safety on and hands the gun to me.
“The witches in the other Vales aren’t wrong to protest how they’ve been treated, but sacrificing other supernaturals to gain power is a betrayal of our most sacred laws.
One I can’t condone. Instead, I want to offer them another alternative.
An exclusive retreat for witches that allows us to expand our knowledge and power in a way that supports each other but doesn’t require a sacrifice to get it. ”
She swivels toward Macklin. “That’s why I’ve been visiting other Vales, talking to witches.
Not to plan a rebellion.” Her head turns toward me.
“There are a lot of witches like you who don’t want to join covens anymore.
I want the retreat to offer that knowledge without all the coven rules and restrictions. ”
“I have a lot to learn, but honestly, that sounds infinitely better than a coven. I’ll give it some thought,” I tell her, passing the gun to Macklin. Although I doubt it’s going to be any time soon. I like being a seer, but I’m not ready to be a witch.
Clarissa nods. “I suspect Maureen has recruited a few others, but I highly doubt Raine is one of them. She’s likely not even aware Maureen feels this way.
” Her gaze skips from me to Macklin to Andros and Teague, who are now standing by the door.
“I’ll see myself out.” She snaps her fingers and disappears.
I sink to the floor and take a deep breath. “Are you a hundred percent sure I’m immortal? Like you would bet my life on it?”
“Yes, a hundred percent,” Teague confirms, squatting down beside me. “I can show you.” I tense, and he waves a hand. “A small demonstration. Give me your hand.”
I hold it out, willing it to stop trembling.
Before I have time to process what he’s doing, he slashes my wrist. Piercing pain makes me cry out, but then it quickly eases. Surprised, I stare down at my arm and watch the skin knit back together. Teague takes his shirt and wipes away the blood, revealing nothing but smooth skin behind.
With a frown, I stare at the unblemished skin. “If you can heal, why do you two have so many scars?”
Macklin sighs. “When we’re younger, we prevent our scars from healing to show other gargoyles we’ve been in battle. Like a badge of honor and skill.” He presses his lips together. “Or if the wound is severe enough, like my wings, the wound might not heal all the way.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs and nods to my wrist. “You won’t have to worry.”
Blowing out a huge breath of relief, I slide my fingers across the unblemished skin. “Thanks. Hopefully next time someone points a gun at me, I’ll remember my immortality instead of freezing.”
Teague sweeps a swath of my hair back. “Doesn’t mean you can’t die, but it’s harder to kill you, so try to avoid catastrophic injuries.”
I gulp. “Good to know.”
Teague stands and pulls me up with him. “Get dressed. I’ll stand guard outside the door.” His expression is foreboding, as if the incident scared him a bit more than he liked.