Chapter 31
DARCIE
I sit on the balcony that extends off the second floor of the Virginian safehouse, unease threatening to choke me as I sit under the late-morning sun.
The view of D.C. stretches beyond a line of tall pine trees, the distant skyline framed in deep green. My bare feet are tucked beneath me, and I stare out at the city as if answers will rise from the stone and glass.
The house behind me hums with activity. Footsteps. Doors closing. Low murmurs. The air inside is thick with purpose.
But the one thing stealing all my focus is the prisoner currently in the middle of an interrogation.
Screams of pain echo through the walls. Shouts of agony ring in my ears.
Alex hinted he wouldn’t hesitate to resort to such methods if it meant getting the information he needed.
I just didn’t realize how unnerving it would be to hear it.
So I spend most of the morning outside, trying to convince myself it doesn’t matter what happens to one of Adir’s followers.
What matters is Bella.
The captured stranger is our best shot at finding her. Alex and the others are doing what needs to be done to end this conflict.
Or so I keep telling myself.
The ethical argument circles endlessly in my mind.
The patio doors slide open behind me.
I stiffen and glance over my shoulder.
My mother steps out, closing the door quietly behind her. She walks to the second lounge chair with measured grace, like she’s approaching a wild animal that might bolt.
“May I sit?”
As if I could say no.
I give a small wave of my hand.
She lowers herself into the chair across from me.
I turn back toward the trees. I still haven’t forgiven her for forcing me to stay behind during the mission.
It doesn’t matter that she was right—that things could have gone terribly if one of Adir’s followers had recognized me.
I resent that she insisted. I resent even more that she placed a physical restraint on my powers. A restraint that is still present.
It’s like a dull pressure beneath my skin. A lid that is sealed tight, holding in the power I just managed to manifest.
She clears her throat. “I realized we haven’t exactly had the chance to talk much.”
I keep staring toward the distant capital. The stone buildings are pale against the hazy sky.
Her heavy sigh floats into the air.
“I’m trying, Darcie,” she says softly. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“I don’t want you to say anything.” Finally, I turn my head and meet her gaze. “Consider your conscience clear…or whatever it is you’re trying to gain from this conversation. We’re good. Don’t worry about it.”
I turn back to the trees, focusing on steadying the slight tremor in my hand where it grips the armrest.
For a fleeting second, I think she might take the out—that she will decide I’m not worth pushing today.
Unfortunately, I’m wrong.
Jennifer Abernathy shifts in her seat, settling deeper into the cushion. She turns her face toward the view as well.
Silence descends.
But instead of suffocating, it’s almost…comfortable.
Without realizing it, I recline farther back. The sun warms my legs. The wind moves softly through the pines. For a moment, I allow myself to drift.
I’m halfway into a daydream about Greece—about what the Immortals are doing. About Des.
I thought this time apart would make things easier, but it’s the opposite. The desire to talk to him, to see him, gnaws at me almost as much as the unsettling feeling plaguing me, convincing me that danger lies on the horizon.
Danger none of us will see coming.
“I hope you have been communicating with your father,” my mother’s voice slices through the quiet, freeing me from the painful thoughts for the moment. “I wouldn’t want him to worry.”
“We text almost every day,” I reply. “He knows I’m fine.”
From the corner of my eye, I see her shoulders dip in relief. “Good.”
She seems content to return to silence.
I’m not.
The mention of my dad pries open something raw inside me.
“I’m surprised you care,” I say, the bitterness slipping free before I can stop it.
It’s subtle, but I hear her tiny, pained intake of breath.
After a pause, she whispers, “Of course I care about your dad.”
“You could have fooled me.”
The silence that follows is no longer peaceful. It’s taut. Fragile. Accusations, spoken and unspoken, hang in the air between us.
I don’t regret it.
My frustration has been building since the moment she walked back into my life. She lied. She kept secrets. And she controls everything with her suffocating protectiveness.
“You’re angry with me,” she says quietly. “I understand. But it’s time we talk. Not about Adir or the clan. But about us…about why I left.”
“By all means.” I cross my arms. “This ought to be good.”
Her forehead creases. “Please don’t do that. Don’t dismiss the conversation before it even begins.”
I blow out a breath, a strand of hair lifting before falling against my lips. I brush it away. “Fine. I’m listening.”
Her gaze lingers on me a second longer, as if measuring my sincerity, before she turns toward the trees.
“I was young when I left the Nightsbane Clan,” she begins. “I didn’t agree with the way the leaders ran things. I was tired of being used for their own personal gain.”
I nod, remembering what Alex has already told me.
“Alex said the clan wanted to get rid of all vampires. Is that still their goal?”
“Hardly.” She smirks. “Alex has greatly impacted the clan’s stance on the vampire race. While many still don’t trust them, he’s made it nearly impossible for them to wish him away. His funding is only second to his protection.”
“Funding?”
“He provides the clan income for our ‘services.’” She makes air quotes. “Witches and warlocks of the clan are bound to help Alexander whenever he has need of them.”
Understanding clicks into place.
No wonder Des reached out to Alex to sway the clan toward the Council’s cause.
“I guess it’s hard to tell the person who pays you, no.”
Her smirk grows. “No one has told Alexander no in years.”
“No wonder he’s so arrogant.”
She laughs, and despite myself, I do too.
“Do not get me wrong,” she says between soft chuckles. “Despite our issues, I adore Alexander. But he is definitely one of the most arrogant men I’ve ever known.”
Her expression turns almost wistful.
My stomach drops.
She notices. “What’s wrong?”
I hesitate, but I can’t not ask. “Is Dad really my dad?”
She recoils. “Of course, John is your dad!”
Relief rushes through me so fast it makes me dizzy. “Good.”
“Good?” Her brow arches.
I shrug. “Dad’s the most normal guy on the planet. At least I’m half normal.”
She laughs again, lighter this time. “You are not entirely correct in assuming your father is normal.”
“What do you mean?”
“Your father’s ancestors are distant descendants of Eros.”
“Eros?” My voice cracks. “Flirty, handsome-as-all-hell, Eros?”
“One and the same.”
“H-how do you know?”
“I looked into it when we met.” She shrugs, like that’s the most normal thing in the world.
I gape at her. “Why would you do that?”
“Supernaturals are always careful when choosing partners,” she says. “Mixing the wrong bloodlines could prove disastrous.”
Dread grips me.
Is that what’s wrong with me?
She rushes to add, “But your father’s bloodline held no magic. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.”
I don’t agree.
I swallow down the words.
“So there aren’t any wild powers that are going to ambush me out of nowhere?”
“No. Well…” She pauses and studies me. “Eros’ abilities tend to draw the opposite sex to him. The trait was certainly passed down to your father.”
My jaw drops. “Are you saying Dad was a ladies’ man?”
“Don’t be fooled by the scholarly act.” She grins. “Your father is likely still a ladies’ man.”
“Ugh. Don’t say that.”
She laughs. “It’s where you get your beauty from.”
I actually look like you.
I pinch my lips and drop my gaze to my lap.
Des’s face flashes in my mind, and I remember the heat in his stunning gaze when he loses control around me.
Could his attraction to me be more than a bond?
What about Kevin?
Is my distant connection to Eros responsible for any romantic relationship I’ve had or will ever have?
“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” Her voice and eyes soften. “The pull of Eros’s offspring doesn’t make people fall in love with them. Think of it as an advantage with first impressions.”
I exhale a shaky breath, telling myself I’m not touched by the term of endearment.
“That’s good, I guess.”
She nods. “Your father was so charming when we met.”
Her gaze drifts to the treeline. A happy smile curls her lips. “And so easy to love once I got to know him.”
My heart clenches. “Then why did you leave?”
Her smile falls. “I had no choice. Ben’s father was relentless in his search for me.”
He was?
“What would have happened if he had found you?”
What was so bad that it made her abandon her husband and child?
Her lips press into a hard line, and pain flickers over her face. “He could’ve forced me back to the clan, and he would’ve taken you, too.”
A chill slides down my spine.
“I’d masked my powers.” A haunted shadow falls over her features. “I thought we were safe, but I was wrong.”
Sadness weighs on my chest. “What happened?”
“Someone from my past saw me at a store in Augusta,” she says, naming the capital of Maine. “She was a witch I knew in childhood. The moment she saw me, I knew it would only be a matter of time before she told the Nightsbane leaders of my location. I knew they would come for me.”
Her voice drops, as does her head. “So…I left.”
The words land heavily between us.
I don’t know what to think.
I understand her fear of returning to a controlling clan, but I can’t shake the idea that she could have done something else. There had to be a way for our family to stay together.
Why didn’t she try to stay with us?
Before I can ask, a loud crash erupts from inside the house, louder than any sound from the interrogations so far.
We both jump to our feet.
“Stay here,” my mother orders.
“It’s probably nothing,” I argue, even as my pulse spikes.
“Regardless. Don’t move. Please.”
She waits for my answer.
With a frown, I give a reluctant nod.
Then she disappears back into the house.
I step back until I’m pressed against the patio railing. I look down the backyard. There’s nothing.
Another crash sounds.
Louder.
This one is followed by shouts and the clear sound of fighting.
My heart leaps into my throat, and frustration chokes me.
With my powers bound, I’d be useless in a fight. I need to hide, but there’s nowhere to go.
The door slides open again. I whirl around and gasp. “Henry?”
The warlock steps out, disheveled, breathless, and with wild eyes.
“Darcie! Thank the Creator,” he pants and rushes towards me. “Come on. We have to get you somewhere safe.”
“Why?” I step toward him. “What’s happening?”
“Darcie! NO!” Gregory’s scream roots me in place.
My head whips up to the third floor, and I gasp as he throws himself from the window.
“Gregory!”
Henry lunges forward and grabs my arm. “Gotcha.”
A familiar sensation creeps up my skin. Cold. Wrong.
The world beneath my feet shudders, and the patio disintegrates.
Too late, I realize I should have pulled away.
Henry is pulling me into a rip.
Air swirls around me. The trees blur into streaks of green. Darkness starts to swallow everything whole.
And just before the black curtain crashes down, my mother screams my name.
Then—
Nothing.