by Eva Chase
What Rory had said was true—I couldn’t expect to rely on just her for the rest of my life. If I’d earned the right to more than disdain from anyone in the community, it was these guys here in front of me. Maybe I couldn’t claim the barony, maybe I’d never deserved to be called scion, but they couldn’t say I hadn’t stepped up when they’d needed me as people, not as their roles.
At least, they’d better see it that way. Because otherwise I was epically screwed.
“Jude,” Declan started, still looking so fucking concerned.
I waved him off. “It’s all right. I’m just figuring out where to begin.” More accurately, I was working up to beginning at all, but I didn’t need to say that.
I took another swig from my Coke and managed to turn that jolt of sugar into some kind of courage. As I lowered my hand, I drew my posture straighter.
“What I’m about to tell you, you can’t mention to anyone else except Rory,” I said in the most serious tone I had in me. “Word getting out to the wrong person would be a death sentence. So I hope you’ll understand why it’s taken me this long to tell even you.”
“Tell us what?” Malcolm burst out. “Let’s hear it already, Killbrook.”
“Malcolm,” Declan said chidingly, and Malcolm mock-grimaced at him. The Nightwood scion shifted in his chair, his gaze coming back to me, and it occurred to me as maybe it wouldn’t have even a week ago that he wasn’t impatient because he wanted to be done with me. He was impatient because he was waiting to hear how he could step up and defend me from whatever horror I was about to tell them.
Which would be great for me if he still felt the same way once he knew. At least his comment had given me a perfect opening.
“That’s the thing right there,” I said. My voice went hoarse despite my best efforts. “I’m not—I’m not a Killbrook. I’m not a scion. It’s all been a fucking sham.”
The second the words spilled out, I’d have given anything to take them back. The other guys stared at me in deathly silence. Connar’s jaw had gone slack. Then Declan, with that furrowed forehead and of course his academic precision, said, “When you say you’re not, you literally mean—”
“Yes,” I said before he had to form the whole question. “I have no genetic relationship to Baron Killbrook or anyone else who was born a Killbrook. I… It’s a long story.”
My body had tensed as if I might need to bolt for the door. Connar managed to shut his mouth. Malcolm kept staring at me, but he didn’t look angry, so that was a small win.
“I think you’d better lay it all out, then,” he said.
My legs abruptly decided they weren’t inclined to hold me up any longer. I sank onto the padded arm of the chair, my head bowing forward. “You all know how uptight the barons can get about ensuring succession and solidifying their family line,” I said. “My… well, the man who calls himself my father is the oldest of the current barons; he was the first to take his spot at the pentacle. He’d been trying for an heir for years, but all the other barons were popping out kids and he couldn’t and—I guess he panicked.”
I told them the rest of the story as well as I knew it from the argument I’d overheard between my mother and the baron and the pieces I’d fit together in the seven years afterward: the way he’d convinced her to let him compel another mage to impregnate her, the way he’d treated me after he’d gotten what he thought he wanted, the way my impending sibling had left my position ten times as precarious.
The scions let me talk without interruption, taking it all in with varying expressions of shock. By the time I wrapped up the story, an ache had filled my throat. I couldn’t quite look any of them in the eye. I pushed myself to my feet again, my gaze fixed on my pop can.
“I didn’t enjoy lying to you for so long. For most of that time, I didn’t want to even let myself accept it. I’m sure I’ve taken out far too many of my frustrations on all of you, and I wish I could have figured out a better way to handle the whole mess. I just—”
Declan stood up and moved to grasp my shoulder. “It’s okay, Jude,” he said, his own voice a little raw. “He put you in an impossible position and left you to fend for yourself—we’re not going to be upset because you weren’t perfectly graceful in dealing with his shittiness.”
The Ashgrave scion didn’t often lower himself to coarse language. That and the impassioned tenor to his words gave me the will to meet his eyes. He was pissed off, yes—on my behalf, not with me. He gazed back at me steadily, his mouth slanted at a sympathetic angle.
I’d always scoffed when Malcolm or occasionally the others would refer to the pentacle as a “family.” Mostly, I supposed, because I’d assumed I didn’t belong to it either way. It struck me right then that Declan was exactly the older brother I’d have wanted if I’d allowed myself to want anywhere near that much, and something in me cracked.
“I’m sorry,” I said, not even sure what I was apologizing for now.
Declan let out a sputter of a laugh. I wasn’t sure who moved first, but we collided in a brief but firm hug, his arm squeezing tight across my shoulders as if he thought he could press the reassurance he intended into me. I stepped back, embarrassingly choked up.
Malcolm and Connar had gotten up too, but thankfully neither of them attempted quite the same demonstration of acceptance. Malcolm did clap me on the back with a rough guffaw.
“And you had me worried you’d created some kind of catastrophe.”
“It is a catastrophe no matter how you look at it,” I muttered. “And I shouldn’t really even be in this room.”
Connar let out a disgruntled sound. “Fuck that,” he said. “You’re one of us in every way that counts. Your father’s shitty decisions don’t change that. I don’t know how we’re going to sort this out, but there’s got to be a way.”
For a second, their show of solidarity overwhelmed me. I swiped my hand across my mouth.
“I just want to stay alive,” I said. “Whether I’d want the barony or not has no bearing on the situation. I couldn’t take it even if someone handed it to me on a silver platter. And Baron Killbrook knows that if I’m ever put in the position to try to claim it, or if anyone finds out I’m not really his son in some other way, he’ll be hung for treason. I’m not sure how long I have before he decides to get ahead of that problem by hanging me, by whatever method he deems most effective.”
“He’s got no reason to think there’s any urgency about it, does he?” Malcolm said. “You kept it quiet that you knew.”
“Well…” I winced. “I was more upfront with him than maybe was smart a few weeks ago, thinking if I showed I knew and wasn’t going to make problems for him, it’d get him off my back. It didn’t appear from his reaction that I achieved the intended effect. I thought I was reasonably safe until after my sister arrives and they’re sure she’s healthy, but… after that, it’s become less clear. As long as he doesn’t think I’ve been spreading the information around, at least—”
Declan’s expression fell. “He might already think that. Damn it. If I’d had any idea, Jude… I was trying to negotiate with him the other day, and I said something about uncertainty with his heirs, and he reacted as if I’d accused him of something terrible. I had no idea what that was about. I told him I only meant that it seemed he was removing you as scion, but—I’m not sure he believed me.”
My heart dropped. “Fucking hell.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Malcolm announced. “He’s not touching a hair on your head. He didn’t want you? Well, you’re ours now. Honorary scion. No take-backs.” His body was tensed, but he shot me a wry smirk.
He could say that all he wanted—I was still in even deeper shit than I’d been before. Or perhaps not. Because I also had three allies standing around me that I hadn’t been sure I could trust before.
Baron Killbrook would come for me, somehow or other, but I wouldn’t be facing him alone. Not by a longshot.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Rory
“It seems crazy that it happened so fast,” Shelby said as she stuffed another sweater into her suitcase, which was yawning open next to me on the bed. “They said they saw a video someone had of me performing—I guess from one of the recent public recitals—and got my info… I still can’t believe they really want me to be part of the orchestra.” She paused and hugged herself with a giddy smile.
I grinned back with a pang in my chest. I loved seeing her so happy, but the good-bye was still hard. Once she was gone, I’d be stuck with Victory’s trio and the dormmates who’d always simply kept their distance. With every new ally I discovered, the barons’ machinations were peeling away the ones I’d already had.
“You’re amazing on that cello,” I said. “Anyone can tell. And I’m sure you aced that audition.”
“I was so nervous.” She giggled. “But I can’t wait to get started. I’m sure I’m going to learn so much from the other musicians. It feels a little weird dropping out of school, but I’ll probably get an even better education learning things hands on, surrounded by that many pros.”
“For sure. I’m looking forward to coming to your first official performance.” I’d promised her I’d make it out there for that.
I glanced around the room as she fit a couple more pieces of clothing into the suitcase, leaving her closet empty. “Is there anything you need help packing or getting to the car?” One of the university’s on-call chauffeurs had agreed to drive her out to her new accommodations.
“I think that’s everything.” Shelby swiped her hands against her sides and took in the room that was now stripped of her personal touches. Her mouth slanted at a bittersweet angle. “It’s funny—this place stressed me out so often, but I’m going to miss parts of it too.”
“I’m going to miss you,” I told her, getting up. “Call me or text me with all the news, okay? I want to hear everything about the glamorous orchestra life.”
She laughed again, her cheeks flushing, and gave me a quick hug. “I’d have been a lot more stressed the last few terms if it wasn’t for you. You let me know any exciting developments on your end too.”
I didn’t think any pending developments were likely to be exciting in a way I could share or that it’d be fun to talk about, so I just smiled. “Of course.”
I walked her down to the parking lot and helped heft her luggage into the trunk. The pang in my chest sharpened as I watched the car whisk her off down the road. Then I turned to head across campus. I had one more painful conversation to get through, but at least it might alleviate a little pain for someone else.
My mother had called me this morning to let me know Lillian’s fate. The blacksuits were keeping her exact crimes quiet, deciding with the barons’ agreement that it would unnerve the general community too much to know what one of their high ranking members had done. No doubt my mother also didn’t want it getting out how easily her heir had been framed. But Lillian had been stripped of her position and at least temporarily of her magic via those blacksuit cuffs, and she’d remain in their detention center for the next year until they could re-evaluate.
Baron Bloodstone had relayed all this information in a chilly tone. She didn’t need to tell me how furious she still was with the woman who’d once been her closest friend. Her voice had made me shiver, but this was the best outcome I could have hoped for. She’d lost one of her key allies too.
It didn’t sound as if Lillian had revealed the other barons’ role in my arrest, or perhaps she had and my mother had dismissed the idea. They’d been good at covering their tracks. Lillian might have been afraid she’d lose even more than she already had if she’d tried to implicate them.
That was fine. I knew. And if the right moment arrived, I wouldn’t hesitate to make use of that information.
Inside the maintenance building, the door to the main office stood slightly ajar. I knocked on it anyway.
Mr. Wakeburn’s voice reached me with the same hint of strain it’d had when he’d called me for a meeting a couple weeks ago. “Come in.”
When I stepped inside, a strange combination of emotions crossed his face. Somehow he both brightened and deflated, as if seeing me simultaneously gave him hope and sapped it away.
“Miss Bloodstone,” he said, managing a smile. “To what do I owe this visit?”
It seemed blunt to jump straight to the point, but the idea of making some kind of small talk leading up to it made my stomach clench. I clasped my hands in front of me.
“I just wanted to let you know that I’ve done what you asked for Imogen. The details aren’t being made public, which wasn’t my choice, but—her killer is facing justice. She won’t be in a position to hurt anyone else like that again.” At least, I certainly hoped not.
I was about to add that I wished I could tell him more, but Mr. Wakeburn was already getting up behind his desk, nothing but relief in his expression now. “Thank you,” he said. “I understand—the politics and all can be so complicated—it’s enough just to know something’s been done. I wasn’t sure it was even possible.”
My smile came out tight. “Neither was I. I’m glad I got the chance to set things a little right, for Imogen’s sake. It was the least she deserved.”
I left the office with my spirits lighter, one small weight lifted off them. Unfortunately, the largest one remained—and would for a long time, I suspected.
Gold leaf pins flashed amid the students crossing the green. There were so many more Naries here that so many of my fellow students were eager to terrorize. And I still didn’t know how the barons were hoping to escalate those plans. My mother had made it clear this was only the first stage in some larger scheme.
I couldn’t get them all out of here like I had Shelby—and if I did, the staff would simply bring in more eager applicants to fill their places. So, I’d just have to find some other strategy. I wasn’t standing down.
There’d been a moment, before Lillian had brought the news that my mother was still alive, when I’d been able to see how different the fearmancer world could be with Declan and me joining the pentacle of barons, and later the other scions taking their spots too. I had to believe we could still have that world I’d pictured. That we could stop the current barons from ruining our chances of getting there before we even had the opportunity.
Even if the methods I might have to use along the way made me queasy.
As I headed to the garage, I texted the guys. Going to meet with my mother now. Should be back in a few hours.
The replies popped up one after the other, Jude’s first: Go get her, secret agent girl. We’ll be ready to send a rescue party!
I didn’t think he was completely joking about that.
Then Declan, with practical advice I automatically heard in his measured voice: Keep those mental shields solid. You’ve got one more strength than her, and she’s out of practice—just don’t give her any openings.
Connar, short but sweet: You’ve got this, Princess Bloodstone.
And finally Malcolm, echoing the words he’d said after the five of us had discussed—and argued about—my decision last night: She’s got no idea what she’s up against. Just make sure it stays that way. We’ll have your back, no matter what.
The messages soothed my nerves for a little while, but by the time I parked outside the mirrored office building where I’d talked with my mother before, my heart was thudding out a staccato rhythm. I took a few deep breaths in the car before getting out and striding inside.
When I reached the space the Bloodstone family owned, my mother was sitting at the same desk as before, glancing between the papers on her desk and a tablet. She looked up at my entrance and gave me a smile that held a hint of warmth.
“Persephone. You made good time.”
“Traffic wasn’t too bad. And I’m looking forward to really getting started with our work.” I pulled over another chair to sit down across from her.
My mother leaned over her papers, her hair falling forward to shadow her face, as d
ark as mine except for the silvered strands. There was strength and power in that slim body, along with enough cool ferocity to terrify me, but her imprisonment had left her with cracks of fragility too.
Today I began the most fearmancer-like task I’d ever taken on. I was going to show this woman what she wanted to see and say what she wanted to hear until I understood both what she planned to do and how to shatter those plans, and then I was going to betray her. I was never going to be the heir she so obviously wanted. I just hoped I could pretend long and well enough to be the heir I intended to be.
I might not have been prepared for this deadly game, but I was in it now, and there was a hell of a lot more than just my happiness on the line. So I was going to play it with everything I had in me.
I shot a smile back at her—the smile of a daughter relieved that she could rely on her mother now that an enemy no longer lurked nearby. “What’s on our plate today, Mom?”
* * *
Can Rory avoid her mother’s wrath while still standing up for the people she’s determined to protect? And what dangers will her guys face as their relationships with their families fall apart? Find out in Grim Witchery, the seventh book in the Royals of Villain Academy series. Get Grim Witchery now!
If you’re a fan of reverse harem paranormal romance, why not check out one of Eva’s complete series, The Witch’s Consorts? You can grab the prequel story FREE here!
Next in the Royals of Villain Academy series
Grim Witchery (Royals of Villain Academy #7)
The barons are only just getting started with their new, vicious schemes—and any move Rory makes to stop them could have deadly consequences for herself and the guys she loves. Can she walk the line between obedience and resistance without losing so much more?