Chapter 13
DARCIE
Instead of meeting in one of the various parlors or studies located throughout the mansion, I’m tucked away in one of the balcony boxes overlooking the ballroom.
A shiver courses down my spine as I take in the grand stage at the side of the room.
I haven’t set foot in the ornately decorated space since the night of the ball—the night Adir managed to abduct me from right under the brothers’ noses.
Forcing the memory away, I focus on the three Immortals standing proudly below.
Des, Lome, and Thane wear matching clothes. The navy-blue pants with gray stripes running down the side are reminiscent of military attire. Their crisp white shirts hide their muscular arms and tan skin, but they cannot conceal the sheer size or power contained within each of them.
The trio speaks lightly, entirely at ease. The impending meeting is not nearly as exciting for them as it is for me. I cannot wait to lay eyes on the beings who helped release me from the pain.
My lips lift when Lome playfully nudges Des, and I almost swoon when he bestows a smile upon the youngest brother. It’s so light and breathtaking.
He’s so handsome.
Knock it off.
I lean away from the edge of the balcony with a firm shake of my head.
I have no business ogling Des, and the last thing I want is for him to find me up here.
Lome’s one stipulation for allowing me to listen in on the meeting was that I keep quiet and stay out of sight. No one but Lome, Eshe, and Gregory even knows I am awake.
I press my lips together and tug the end of my clean shirt over the buttery soft leggings Eshe helped me change into. The awkward maneuver was slightly less embarrassing than Gregory carrying me the entire way to this alcove.
Asking for the vampire’s help had been my idea, but I didn’t anticipate how unnerving it would feel to be pressed up against Gregory’s toned torso, breathing in the smell of his spicy cologne.
I’m thankful he didn’t try to make small talk during the ordeal.
In fact, Gregory had very little to say since he arrived in my bedroom and found me awake.
Now, he’s content to stand in the back corner of the alcove, watching me and our surroundings like a hawk.
Eshe shifts next to me.
I lean over and whisper, “What is with uniforms and meeting in the ballroom?”
It all seems a little over the top.
Eshe shrugs. “Thane and Charmian like to project a very specific image when dealing with clans.”
I refrain from asking why.
The brothers have fallen silent, and even my breath sounds too loud in my ears.
I inch forward and peek down, resisting the urge to tap my foot on the floor as I wait for the entrance of my supposed rescuers.
A clock chimes the hour. When the device releases its last chime, the ornately carved doors swing inward.
I dig my nails into the railing and hold my breath.
Alex walks through the doorway.
Every soul in the room exhales.
“Am I late?” he calls out as he makes his way towards the Immortal brothers.
“This is a private audience with the Nightsbane clan,” Thane practically growls. “Your presence is unwelcome.”
Alex continues walking, undeterred. His jeans and crimson sweater interrupt the formality covering every inch of the ballroom below. “I have friends in the Nightsbane clan. They would want to see me.”
“You, a friend of Nightsbane?” Thane’s words are laced with disbelief. “I find that very hard to believe.”
“It is true, Lord Thane,” Alex returns, managing to sound semi-respectful as he slips in the title. “My presence among you may very well sway the clan into agreeing to help the alliance.”
“He’s not lying,” Des says before Thane can express his continued doubt.
“Alexander’s coven is one of the few to have established strong diplomatic relationships with various clans and packs.
Nightsbane may not blindly follow him into battle, but they will hear him out.
Which is more than we can claim at this point. ”
Thane scowls as his brother speaks, then snorts. “A vampire-hunting clan, befriending a vampire coven? Who would have thought?”
A what clan?
Thane clears his throat. “You may stay, but refrain from speaking unless instructed.”
“Of course.” Alex bows low, his black hair falling over his eyes.
He rises and climbs the stairs, standing slightly behind Des.
The Immortal gives him a sharp nod in greeting before turning forward and clasping his hands behind his back.
My shoulders slump.
Thane’s behavior has been irrational lately, understandably so, but I’m glad he saw reason. If Alex can sway the witches to help in the hunt for Bella, his presence is absolutely invaluable.
Air moves around me as Gregory steps up to my side. He bends until his lips are centimeters from my ear. His words are the quietest whisper, “You can see more standing in the back.”
My head turns. I lean back when I see how close our faces are and lift my brows.
Gregory holds out a hand, places a finger over his lips with the other, and tilts his head.
I place my palm in his. Cool, pale fingers around my hand. Then he covers my mouth and pulls.
The balcony swirls, and wind tears at my hair. A choked gasp catches in my throat.
I sway on my feet, now standing at the back of the alcove.
Gregory drops his hand from my mouth, but continues to hold onto the other.
“What—”
His finger presses to my lips.
I close my mouth, heart racing, and nod.
He drops his hand with a grin.
Eshe glides across the balcony and positions herself at my side. Her dark eyes narrow on Gregory. He drops my hand and steps away.
I cross my arms and steady my breathing as I stare at the crystal chandelier illuminating the ballroom below.
Gregory is right.
Without the banister in front of me, I have an unobstructed view of the room. I inch back farther into the shadows and sweep my eyes over the Immortal brothers when movement by the doors draws my attention.
Charmian’s auburn hair is piled high, and her chin is lifted regally as she glides into the ballroom. The brothers are not the only ones dressed for the occasion.
The Immortal wears a beautiful, shimmering green gown. Its elegant lace sleeves and encrusted bodice look out of place for a mid-afternoon meeting, but she pulls the look off.
“Forgive my tardiness,” her voice sings through the empty space. “My offspring needed rest after their journey.”
She gestures behind her.
My eyes fly back to the open doors.
Seven individuals in purple cloaks enter the room in a V-formation.
I stagger back. My legs threaten to crumple beneath me. Gregory grabs my elbow to keep me upright.
My entire body shivers as my blood runs cold.
They were in my head…
Those cloaked people were In. My. Head.
One of them attacked me!
Gregory’s grip tightens, and he pulls me back against his firm chest.
I don’t move.
I don’t speak.
I refuse to get caught before learning about the mysterious clan who saved my life—the same clan who allegedly infiltrated my mind.
Eshe watches me with concern, clearly wanting to ask what has me so frightened. I can only shake my head.
Still secured in Gregory’s arms, my pupils follow the cloaked figures.
They stop just behind Charmian. Then the entourage lowers to the ground in the most deferential greeting I have seen the Immortal brothers receive.
Charmian holds out her hand, signaling for her offspring to remain in the suppliant position, as she says, “Before you are the leading seven of Nightsbane, the most powerful clan of my offspring.”
“Master Ben.” The lead cloak rises in response to Charmian’s call. “Is the warlock responsible for the girl’s healing?”
The warlock lowers his deep hood and reveals an ordinary head of close-cropped brown hair.
Knowing I cannot step away from Gregory and hope to remain standing, I have to content myself with stretching my neck forward to try and get a better view of the man. Without the eerie darkness and soundless sweeps of his cloak, he does not seem so frightening.
Lome steps forward. “Thank you, Master Ben. We appreciate all you have done to ensure our guest’s recovery.”
The warlock bows at the waist. “We help our own. I regret we were not here to assist the girl sooner.”
“How did you know where she was?” Des doesn’t hide his suspicion from his tone. “Or that she was in trouble?”
Master Ben looks at Charmian.
The Immortal gives him a quick nod before he turns to face the cloaked figures still crouched behind him.
He flicks his wrist, and one of the two hooded figures located at the front of the formation stands with grace.
“Mistress Jennifer only recently returned to her position within Nightsbane. It was she,” Master Ben tells Des, “who became aware of the girl’s ailment.”
Des turns his assessing gaze to the cloaked woman. “And how did you become privy to such information, Mistress Jennifer?”
Every line of his body is taut, a coiled spring ready to unleash if she says anything he believes compromises my safety.
My stomach twists.
The woman remains silent.
Master Ben’s jaw twitches. “Jennifer, remove your hood.”
The witch, Jennifer, does not move.
For a second, I think she intends not to heed the instruction. Then the sleeves of her cloak slide down thin arms as she lifts her hands.
Grabbing the edges of her hood, she lowers the obstructing cover to reveal a bright, blonde ponytail. Her back is straight as she meets Des’ gaze.
“Who are you?” Lome asks, tilting his head to the side. “You look…familiar.”
The witch rotates slightly to look at Charmian for guidance, and the air is knocked out of my lungs.
My hand flies to my mouth to smother my gasp.
Mom?