Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Jun waiting in the hallway shouldn’t bring me comfort, especially not when I’m visiting my father, but it does. I don’t want to believe that my father would hurt me… but if he’s involved with the murders on campus, who knows what he’s capable of?
My trust in my father wanes by the day, and for Jun, it’s growing. Somehow.
I try to seem confident as I enter his office, but my conviction drains with each step.
Even though I hold my head high, I’m certain my hands are shaking, and my legs are like jelly.
Wobbly. Weak. Everything is going right so far, but how long will that last?
This could be the day I say the wrong thing, upset the wrong person, and give away our plan.
But I won’t let that happen. I have an edge over Tobey, Caldwell, and even Jun—I don’t have a heartbeat to give me away. The speed of someone’s heartbeat is an internal lie detector for a vampire, albeit a faulty one.
On the polar side, there’s a problem. My father knows me better than anyone else—aside from my mother, possibly. He’s seen me lie to his face before and caught me in quite a few fibs. I may be a grand performer, but acting differs from putting on an act for my family.
I swallow thickly as I knock on his office door, pushing it open and poking my head inside. “Papá? Are you busy?”
There’s no need to pretend I’m here for lunch this time. He’ll see through it like before. Besides, I don’t need an excuse to spend time with my dear father.
I left in a huff after our last meeting, but now he fixes me with a kind smile. All is forgotten. Our family has a problem of pretending blow-ups never happened, and it works in my favor this once.
“Not at all,” he says. “Take a seat.”
My father’s idea of lunch is a hot coffee and a stack of paperwork. How can he be involved in secret societies when he spends so much of his life teaching students, grading papers, and traveling the world with my mother?
Immortality is the answer, I suppose. It’s easier to find the time for everything you want to do when you have an abundance of it. I’m not immortal myself, but I know I will be someday, and the knowledge makes me live my life differently than most.
“Thank you.” I take my usual seat, right across from him, the place I’ve been occupying for years.
“You’re in a better mood than last time we spoke.”
It’s easy to let him brush off our latest conversation as me being in a bad mood, rather than digging into the problem.
“Oh, yes. I’m feeling much better today.”
Of course, it’s a lie. Even with a demon weapon courtesy of Caldwell, I have never felt more out of the zone than I do now. The weapon won’t work on my father, but I came with comfort in the form of a stake strapped to my thigh.
I can’t fathom using the weapon on my father. Hopefully, it won’t get to that point. If Jun is right, this conversation may be the only thing that can drive our investigation forward.
“That’s what I like to hear.” He pushes his paperwork off to the side. “Your mother will arrive in a few days. I’m sure that will lift your mood as well.”
Before finding the body, her return was all I could think of. I worried about impressing her and readied myself for thrilling stories of her travels. I’m not as focused on that now. My mind has been elsewhere, and the words come as a surprise.
I forgot about my mother’s homecoming.
“Yes. I’m sure it will.”
But it’s not that simple.
My relationship with my mother is more complicated, and her return leaves me with unanswered questions. Is my mother in on this so-called secret society, or is she as ignorant as I am?
That’s a problem for a later day.
“I came here to talk to you about something.” I clear my throat. “Something important, actually.”
So, it begins. I open the door to the question I’ve come to ask, and in doing so, I threaten the status quo I’ve become so comfortable with. It’s still hard to get the words out as quickly as I would like, shifting in my seat as I consider my next step.
If my father can tell something is off, he doesn’t show it. He doesn’t flinch. “Continue.”
I miss when I could talk to him about anything.
He would have been my first call in these situations. If I’m facing a problem, he’s the one I go to. He’ll protect me and get me out of any trouble I find myself in. Or… he would have in the past.
Now, he can’t help, and I’m left flopping like a fish as I formulate my words.
“I—” I pause, inhaling slowly. “I want to know more about immortality, Father. You asked me to tell you when I’m ready, and I am.”
His expression is still unmoving, but that doesn’t mean anything. He’s an actor as well, even if he’s out of practice.
I grip the corner of his desk, holding my breath as I wait for him to respond—to do anything.
A bright, proud smile takes over his features. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”
I always knew this day would come, and so did he, but I was waiting for him to take the initiative. He told me immortality would arrive when I was ready, and I’ve been waiting for the right time. The wait has not been easy or fun. Immortality is never something I wanted, but…
He looks happy—proud, even.
I let out a puff of nervous laughter. “You were?”
“I was. Immortality is not a decision to be rushed, but of course, it’s what I want for all of my children.”
Most of his children were Turned, like my mother, and they already have immortality. I am the exception, and there is pressure that comes from it. Now, the old burden is heavy enough to crush me and all of my infinite strength.
He’s right. This decision shouldn’t be rushed, but it’s one I’m forced to make. My voice rises when I speak again, high-pitched, the only thing that could give away that I’m lying.
“I’m ready to accept it now.”
“Excellent.” He sits up straighter. “In that case… it’s time for you to learn about l’Ordre de la Chasse Amère.”
My brows furrow. The Order of the Bitter Hunt? That sounds like a secret society.
Jun was right. Damn it all.
“Does Maman know about this?” I ask, trying to keep the horror from my voice.
“She does.” He chuckles. “I could never keep a secret from your mother.”
But he can keep a secret from me. Is it only a secret from me? Do my other siblings already know? They must, if they were granted immortality already. Why am I the one left in the dark?
I open my mouth to ask the questions aloud, but as I do, someone interrupts. It’s likely for the best, considering that the questions I have can build more suspicion between my father and me.
But I long to know. Why can he trust the others, but not me?
Typical Jun. He doesn’t even bother knocking, even though he was supposed to wait outside. I promised to bring him up in the conversation as well, but he didn’t give me a chance.
“I’d like to know more about the Order, too, sir,” Jun says, standing in the doorway. “Half-demons can join, right?”
Hell no. This is not part of the plan.
I glare at him, but my father’s smile never wavers.
“But, of course!” He gestures for Jun to join in on the conversation. “We’re still recruiting for the semester, and any supernatural being can join the Order. The ritual is available for all who make their way in.”
This is news to me—all of it is—but something tells me Jun already knows. Not only is my father keeping secrets, but Jun is, too. He’s supposed to be on my side.
Most people around school are unaware of this. Hell, most people in the world don’t know. I’ve only heard of a select few immortal beings: Turned vampires, demons, angels, and the like. I knew there was a way to grant dhampirs immortality, but it’s uncommon.
If my father is correct, this means anyone can be immortal—the witches, the merfolk. Anyone. This may be bigger than we were expecting. It stretches past Strode into the entire supernatural community.
How long has my father been keeping his secret?
“Count me in,” Jun says.
“And you two are…?” My father looks at us, his gaze ping-ponging back and forth from Jun to me.
This is getting worse by the moment.
My father and I never talk about dating, but with the way he looks at us, I can tell that’s his assumption. His eyes sparkle with interest, and a knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips.
It’s the easiest thing to agree to, I realize. If he thinks we’re mates, as he and my mother are, he won’t second-guess my desire to seek immortality for Jun.
“Yes,” I say smoothly, not sparing Jun another glance. “We’ve recently discovered… he is my mate.”
I’ve played opposite Jun in countless plays, but this role is the hardest to step into. To his credit, Jun is perfectly serene as I lie to my father’s face. I’ve seen him in our improv classes. He knows what to do.
We can ‘yes, and…’ our way through this.
“Excellent.” My father gives Jun an appraising nod. “Then we can move forward.”
“Great,” I say with a forced smile.
“You can’t join the Order right away, but we’ll begin the entrance procedures shortly.” My father’s eyes crinkle. “You don’t know how happy this makes me, carino. The next phase of your existence will begin, and soon, you can join the rest of the family in our immortal lives.”
“Thank you, Papá.”
He makes it sound like a gift, but more than ever, it doesn’t feel like one.
The entry procedures sound ominous. What will this Order make me do to gain the blessing of immortality?
I emphasize each step as I, once again, storm from my father’s office. This time, it has little to do with my father and everything to do with the annoying demon trailing behind me.
“You can’t keep surprising me like that.” I scold him, my eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to wait outside. We never discussed you coming in.”
“We didn’t?”
“No!”
“Huh. Guess I forgot.”
“You could have ruined everything. My father isn’t always so trusting.”
Little does Jun know, he likely kept me from ruining it all myself. I won’t be the one to tell him I nearly slipped up. I almost showed my fear.
“Well, he trusted me pretty damn fast.” He lifts a brow. “That might be a sign he knows Strode, and he knows I’m his son. What do you think?”
“I think…” I grit my teeth together. “You may be right.”
It’s getting harder to say each time he’s correct, and I would love for him to be wrong. Just once.
He nudges me with his elbow. “I usually am.”
“But I have a feeling he’s being nice to you because of… well, because of me.”
Us. Jun and I are a duo now, whether I like it or not—and I don’t.
“The reason doesn’t matter. Look at the information we got. I told you there’s something about a secret society—the Order of whatever.”
“The bitter hunt.”
“Yeah. That.”
“Yes, but how did you know about that?”
Jun hasn’t given me any insight into where he gets his information.
There’s no way all of this came from one dream with his father—it’s likely all Amelia, like Tobey said, but he won’t admit it.
Maybe it doesn’t matter. If he’s right, he’s right, but I can’t follow him into the darkness without knowing which map he’s looking at.
“Stop worrying about how and focus on what happened in there.” He stands in front of me, effectively stopping me in my tracks. “Knowing any supernatural can be immortal is fucking huge.”
“But you already knew that, didn’t you?”
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have barged in and demanded immortality. He must have had some idea it was possible.
He shrugs. “Now we have a confirmation.”
“Then you did know.”
“Who fucking cares?”
“I care. I’m already processing that my father is lying to me, and now I have to work with someone else who evades the truth like it’s a sport.”
His expression shifts. It’s subtle, the slightest flinch. “Sorry. Won’t happen again.”
I’m unsure of what to do with his apology, swiftly moving on rather than accepting it.
“How is it that no one else knows about this? It doesn’t make any sense. This should be big supernatural news.”
“Because it’s exclusive to this university. When I found out, I asked around, interviewed some other schools. No one else knows anything about it—at least, not anyone who was willing to talk to me. They looked at me like I was crazy. This proves my father is involved.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Strode is the demon of the afterlife,” Jun says. “Of the dead and the undead. Of ghosts. Spirits. This is within his domain.”
“So what? You’re jumping through hoops.” I sigh, stepping around him to continue walking.
“So… I’m right.”
“Why am I constantly stuck with nosy, irrational sleuths? You’re just like Tobey.”
“They’re your best friend, but you sound like you’re complaining.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have the same spunk and charm.”
He’s still here, which is surprising. I’ve never known Jun to seek my company outside of the theater—and even then, I know he would prefer to work alongside anyone else.
“Don’t let your father hear that,” he says. “We’re supposed to like each other. You should find me very charming.”
There’s laughter in Jun’s voice, but none in mine. I don’t find it amusing in the least, certainly not when he’s bringing it up now that we’re alone. My stomach aches.
I groan. “Oh, right. My father thinks we’re mates.”
“He does.”
“This is all your fault.”
“How is it my fault? You’re the one who told him we’re mates. I was playing by the rules of improv…”
“Don’t bring improv into this.” Though, as always, his performance is admirable. “What was I supposed to do? If you hadn’t come in, I wouldn’t need to lie.”
“And you would have joined the Order alone.” Jun’s voice is stern—more serious than I’ve ever heard. “I can’t let that happen. You know that.”
“Why not?” I lift a brow, holding his elbow to keep him from walking.
His eyes narrow as he turns to face me, and my cool hand rests on his arm.
“You think I’m going to leave you alone in there? Wow. You think the fucking worst of me, don’t you?”
“You’ve given me no reason to think otherwise.”
He leans in, his face close to mine. The faintest hint of his scent—cinnamon, warmth, burning logs—envelops me, and my eyelids flutter.
“You’d better get used to pretending you like me, Cruz.” His voice is a whisper, and although harsh, it sounds like a siren song. “We’re mates now. Don’t forget it. We’re a team. For better, or for worse.”
He leans away, and a frigid wave hits me.
I shiver, immobilized as he takes backward steps away from me.“Where are you going?”
To my surprise, I miss his heat, internally cursing him for taking it from me.
“I’ll see you around,” he says, turning his back to me. “Unlike you, I have an important play to practice for.”
And we both have other things to worry about, but when Jun strides off, I know he’s not lying. He’s dedicated to his craft, and he’ll undoubtedly spend the afternoon practicing his lines. Envy curls around me, but it feels like nostalgia, a comfort in the frigid air he left me with.
With everything changing faster than I would like, my old feelings for Jun remain the same.
He’s still infuriating.