Chapter 16 #3
Larkin tips her head, looking at me intently. I try to drop my guard so I can get a read on her, but I’m too anxious internally to separate what I’m feeling with what she’s feeling.
“Wolves and witches historically don’t have issues,” she begins. “We’ve stayed separate, which has always been for the best. The Raleigh pack isn’t happy we’re working alongside a witch, and these new issues cropping up seem concerningly, well, witchy.”
“Most witches don’t hunt demons,” I say and then wish I could take back my words.
It’s not helping my case. “I’m fully aware how messed up things are.
And I don’t know if I can fairly say it’s a coincidence because that would imply things aren’t related, and they are, but they also aren’t.
” I take another drink of water and set my glass down.
“If there’s anyone to blame, it’s the Order.
Unbeknownst to myself and also Xavier, I came with strings attached. Order strings.”
“People are saying you’re unhinged.”
I lift an eyebrow. “To be fair, I probably am. But I know what I’m doing and I promise you, Xavier is and always will, put the coalition first. What the Order is doing has nothing to do with him.”
“Oh, I’m aware,” Larkin replies. “My concern is what is he doing about it? We’ve lived here relatively unbothered by the Order. Then he marries you, and whether or not either of you knew you had ‘Order strings’ at the time isn’t relevant. It is now. And you’re still here.”
Delphi opens her mouth to defend me but just shakes her head instead, not saying anything.
I don’t even know how to defend myself right now.
This wasn’t how anything was supposed to go.
Larissa was supposed to be paired off with Devon, Xavier would remain single and unbothered by love, and I’d be, well, probably dead or used as Vaelric’s vessel.
“I am,” I finally say.
“Look,” Larkin says and then stops as the waiter comes over, bringing us our drinks.
She picks up her old fashioned and takes a big drink.
“I don’t care how the problems started. I care about what’s being done to fix it.
” She takes another drink. “I like you, Wren. There’s an honesty about you I don’t come across every day.
You’re in a unique position, having a hand in multiple pots.
I still believe you are an asset to us all.
And because of that, I will let you know I am not the only one questioning where Xavier’s head is at.
Regardless of what the root cause is, you can’t dispute the fact that he married you and things went to hell in a hand basket. ”
“That’s not exactly fair,” Delphi says and then sucks in a breath, shocked at herself for speaking back to her pack master.
“Oh, I know,” Larkin says. “The hand Wren has been dealt is a shitty one. I can fully agree with that. What the Order did is unforgivable and you better get yourself a damn good therapist, sweetheart.” She picks up her drink and uses it to motion to me as she says that.
“But it doesn’t make business not business, if you know what I mean. ”
“I do,” I say, feeling my stomach start to bubble.
I’m feeling sick not just because the coalition seems to be hanging by a very precious thread, but because this is making me question if I’m playing with fate by falling in love with him.
Vampires and witches aren’t meant to be together.
We’re not meant to coexist in this world, period.
The magic that courses through their veins can’t coexist with our magic.
“So you’re telling me a demon made Governor Dickhead smack himself with the microphone?” Larkin asks, grin on her face.
“Yeah,” I say and she laughs.
“I must have watched that clip a million times. God, that man is an asshole.” My phone vibrates with a text and Larkin looks at it. I have it face down on the table. “Is your vampire husband checking in on you?”
I flip my phone over and look. “No, my brothers.”
“Your human brothers who are in the Order?”
“Yeah.”
She shakes her head. “The less I know, the better.” Silence falls over the table, though thankfully, our appetizer is brought out next.
I can tell Larkin wants to keep drilling me, mostly out of curiosity, but there’s not much else to be said.
At least not out loud. We’ve dug ourselves into a hole and I’m very much aware of the mess we’re in.
It’s not just a regular dirt hole in the ground. I’ve dug myself a deep sand pit, and the tide is coming in. I need to hurry and find a way to climb out before I get sucked into the ground and drown.
Most of the tension leaves by the time we’ve finished lunch. We leave together and the wolves go one way and I go the other. I only make it halfway down the block before three guys on motorcycles swarm me, jumping the curb and almost hitting me.
Oh shit. It’s the Reapers.
“Florence Malus,” one says, getting off his bike. He pulls a gun from the back of his pants. “Blood demands blood.”
He points the gun at me and pulls the trigger.