by Sarah Piper
Creeping around to the side of the table, I turned to look at her from the front, gasping at the sight.
Too much eye-makeup. Dark hair pulled into a severe French twist. Lips pressed together in perpetual annoyance.
“It’s you,” I blurted out.
“She can’t hear you,” Haley said.
I turned toward my sisters. “It’s her. Trinity.”
Haley nodded. She’d seen her before, too—the night we’d done the blood spell for Darius. But Addie seemed shocked into silence, her mouth hanging open, her fingers wrapped so tightly around the back of one of the dining chairs, her knuckles had turned white.
I put a gentle hand on her forearm. “Addie?”
“That’s our… She threw me into the creek.” A tear slid down her cheek.
“You remember?” Haley asked.
Addie rubbed her forehead, her face pained. “Just flashes. Gray was begging her not to throw me in. Delly, you guys called me. ‘Delly can’t swim,’ Gray kept saying. Over and over and over, and that woman just… She didn’t even care. She wanted us gone.”
Addie was shaking now, staring at Trinity with a mixture of fear and hatred.
“But you did swim, Addie,” I said, rubbing her back. “You pulled yourself out of there, and you screamed your head off until a neighbor finally heard. You’re the reason she didn’t succeed.”
“I can’t believe it’s her,” she said absently.
I turned to stare at the woman who’d given birth to us. She was almost beautiful, and maybe had been at one time, but there was something off about her features. She reminded me of someone who’d had too much plastic surgery, and now tried to mask it with too much makeup. Parts of her skin drooped and sagged unnaturally, her brows and forehead unmoving. Her collarbone jutted out at an odd angle, as if it’d been broken and set improperly.
She reminded me of Jonathan, of the side effects of all the experiments he’d done on himself, constantly chasing the perfect hybrid combination that would make him strong and immortal. Trinity may have been immortal—she was a vampire now, after all—but something told me strength had eluded her. Her hands trembled, and her back hunched over as if it wasn’t strong enough to hold her up.
It was hard to believe this woman had almost killed us.
It was even harder to believe she was our mother.
“She can’t hurt us here,” I said, turning back to Addie, offering what I hoped was a comforting smile.
“No, she can’t.” A calm steel edged into her voice, and now Addie moved to stand behind Trinity, attempting to wrap her hands around the woman’s neck. They passed right through her, as if Addie were no more substantial than mist. “And we can’t hurt her, either, which is a shame.”
“Guys, someone’s coming.” Haley gestured for us to join her on the other side of the room, giving us a full view of the table and the entrance from the kitchen, through which four more figures emerged—three fae and one human male.
“That’s gotta be Talia,” I said, nodding toward the fae woman as she took the chair to Trinity’s left. I recognized her wine-colored hair from Emilio’s description. “She’s on the Council. The fae dude with the scar on his cheek looks like a Darkwinter Knight.” He was dressed in a black uniform, with a black-and-gold insignia on the armband. He took the chair on the other side of Trinity, spreading out a bunch of maps on the table before him.
I wondered if he was the soldier Jael’s sister Kallayna had pretended to fall in love with.
I wondered if she was even still alive.
“Who do you suppose the other fae is?” Addie asked, nodding at the male settling in on Talia’s other side. He was dressed in dark gray robes, with long, stark-white hair woven into several intricate braids. Whomever he was, he had an air of importance about him.
“If that’s Talia,” Haley said, “a hundred bucks says Mr. Self-Importance is Fenlos.”
“Who the fuck is that?” Addie asked.
“He and Talia were higher-ups on the Council,” she said. “Jael sensed their magic that night we got into that crash on the highway. They killed some poor truck driver.”
I glared at the pair of them, wondering what it was going to take to kill them.
“And the human?” Addie asked, and I glanced to the opposite end of the table, where the human male was settling in and booting up a laptop. He was short and broad-shouldered, with a weathered face and a scraggly whitish beard.
Everything in me turned to stone, except for my heart, which pounded so hard it made my chest ache.
You and your kind will burn, witch…
The last time I’d seen him, that beard had been blond.
The last time I’d seen him, he’d slit Calla’s throat before my eyes and ordered his son to kill me.
“Phillip Reese,” I managed to choke out. “Jonathan’s father. The hunter who murdered my mother. My true mother.”
I felt my sisters seething beside me, our pain and anger shared. Each of us had been wronged by the people in that room. Each of us had scores to settle. If we could’ve lit that room on fire and butchered everyone in it, I’m certain we would have.
But we weren’t really standing there in Norah’s dining room. We weren’t really standing anywhere. And so my sisters and I clasped hands, infusing each other with love and support, and allowed the meeting of our enemies to unfold before our eyes.
Nineteen
GRAY
“You’re late. Again.” Trinity glared at the doorway as the final attendee scampered in—another fae, dressed the same as the first guy, but with a lot more bling pinned to his shirt. Medals, no doubt, for all the witches he’d killed.
“Orendiel,” Haley said. “The fae fucker in charge here. He and Phillip took over in the cave prisons when Jonathan went AWOL.”
“The same fae fucker who killed Emilio at the warehouse raid.” My fangs protruded, the magic inside me stirring. It was only the warmth of my sisters’ hands that kept me still.
“Apologies, mistress.” Orendiel offered a small bow before taking the chair to Phillip’s left. “I was detained in the warehouse district. There was a small—”
Trinity cut him off with a single raised eyebrow. “Perhaps, Orendiel, you are under the false notion that my time is less valuable than yours.”
“Quite the contrary, mistress.” Orendiel lowered his eyes. “It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.” Trinity finally tore her glacial gaze away from the fae and looked at Phillip, not thawing a bit. “The report, if you please, Phillip. Despite what you all seem to think, I'm not here this evening for my entertainment.”
Phillip pulled up a file on his laptop, then began. “I’ve received confirmation from our generals in each of our west coast targets that the teams are in position and awaiting the final order.”
“Which cities, specifically?” Trinity asked.
“Seattle, Los Angeles, Portland, San Francisco, and San Diego, to start. We’re expecting confirmation from Denver and Santa Fe by the week’s end.”
“Excellent,” Trinity said. “And the east coast?”
“Our teams in Boston, New York, and Miami will begin roll-out as part of phase three,” he continued. “We’ll have more information in the coming weeks, along with reports on cities where we’re still trying to establish a foothold.”
“Do keep me informed,” she said.
“Of course, mistress.”
A chill ran down my spine. So many cities, with many more to come. So many people dead smack in the path of destruction. We’d already known that the shitstorm in Blackmoon Bay was merely a testing ground—that they’d planned to branch out, spreading their poison from sea to shining sea—but we had no idea that they were so organized, or that things had already progressed so far.
“They’ve been working on this a lot longer than we thought,” I said. “Seems like Trinity’s been running the show the whole time, too.”
It jived with the info Asher an
d Ronan had uncovered in Trinity’s office in the crypt. Trinity—our birthmother—truly was the mastermind behind all of this.
My stomach turned over, and I swallowed bile.
“And what’s with the mistress shit?” Haley asked. “Why would they just allow her to take over the Council like that? This whole thing is giving me the creeps.”
Addie opened her mouth to say something, but the other Darkwinter Knight was pointing something out on his map. From my vantage point, it looked like the area around Luna’s Café.
“Blackmoon Bay is nearly ready to fall,” he said, tapping the map. “Everything will branch out from this point here—ground zero. Once we’ve received confirmation that the operation was successful, we’ll put the external teams on standby for imminent orders in each city.”
“And local law enforcement?” Trinity asked
“We don't anticipate any issues,” Phillip said. “Most of the local units have been fully infiltrated and replaced. The holdouts will be taken care of soon enough.”
I glanced at my sisters. Holdouts? Was he talking about human cops? Shifters like Emilio’s team, who’d remained loyal despite the Darkwinter invasion?
“How soon do you anticipate beginning operations on the east coast?” Trinity asked.
“After the successful completion of our objectives on the west coast, everything will begin to move at a much faster clip,” Phillip said.
“Picture the whole country lined with dominoes, coast to coast,” the other fae said. “Most of the work will take care of itself. It’s merely a matter of knocking down the first one.”
“Blackmoon Bay.” Trinity smiled, her teeth gleaming, the heavy makeup cracking around her eyes. “What have we left to do here, then? As you can imagine, I’m anxious to remove myself from this festering city as soon as possible.”
“The warehouse district is finally secured,” Orendiel said, “Along with most of the residential neighborhoods. There are a few remaining strongholds in the Rockport area, but it won't be long before they surrender.
“Witches, I presume?” Trinity asked, her lip curling in disgust. “What, precisely, is the issue?”
At this, Fenlos gave a slight bow of his head. “They’ve been strangely resistant to the glamours, mistress. Furthermore, it seems the remaining witches in the area have banded together, making it nearly impossible for us to have any effect whatsoever.”
I squeezed my sisters’ hands, the first hopeful thing we’d heard yet. If witches remained in the Bay, and had gathered together to resist the invasion, they might be able to help us get inside.
I looked at Trinity, waiting for her to unleash her ire on Fenlos, but it never happened. She simply shook her head, clucking her tongue as though she could barely stand the weight of such disappointing news.
“Georgina really needs to work on gaining their trust,” she said. “Where is that stupid girl?” She rolled her eyes, then shouted at the ceiling, “Georgina!”
My heart leaped. Georgina. She was here. Our sister was here, right upstairs.
That was two pieces of good news in the last minute alone.
At least, I hoped it would be good news. We still didn’t know whose side Georgie was really on.
“Setting aside Georgina’s oversights for the moment”, Talia said, her tone even icier than Trinity’s, “have you made any progress with her sisters?”
The three of us immediately tensed.
“I don’t mean to question your authority, mistress,” she continued, her tone suggesting that she’d meant to do exactly that. Unlike the men in the room, she did not appear to be the least bit enthralled with Trinity. “But you assured us the full cooperation of all four Silversbane witches. That was a condition of your appointment. This plan will not work without them—not in the long term.”
“There’s no cause for agitation, Talia.” Trinity lowered her eyes, her fingernails running along a crack in the table.
Was she actually nervous?
“I’m getting closer to them each day,” she said.
Like hell you are.
“So you’ve said,” Talia replied, glancing at Fenlos as if to say, see what I mean? “At every meeting this month, you’ve made your empty promises. Yet we’ve seen no evidence that you’ve even attempted to reach the others, let alone gotten closer.”
“Georgina knows. Ask her.” Trinity glanced at the ceiling, as if my sister would apparate from thin air. “Georgina! Get down here! Now! You’re—”
“Trinity,” Fenlos said, calm and steely, “How can you be so certain they’ll follow you?”
Trinity looked at the man as if that were the dumbest question ever uttered. “I’m their mother, Fenlos. Of course they’ll follow me.”
At this, Orendiel finally spoke up. “Forgive me, mistress, but I'm not so certain we should presume their loyalty just yet.”
Yeah? Good call there, glitter dick.
Trinity folded her hands on the table in front of her, her eyelid twitching. She looked about three minutes away from core meltdown.
“What was that, Orendiel?” she asked, her lips stretching into a menacing smile.
Orendiel shifted uncomfortably in his chair and lowered his eyes, but he didn’t back down. He simply cleared his throat and began again. “From my limited observation, Morgan and Serena are extremely loyal—not just to each other, but to the demons, the vampire, and the wolf. Somehow this motley assortment has convinced a great many others to join their cause—primarily witches—and after the losses we suffered at the cemetery, it’s my opinion that we are underestimating their strengths, their numbers, and their ability to pose a serious challenge to our plans.”
Morgan and Serena. Me and Haley. How the hell did everyone at this table seem to know so much about us?
How long had they been watching? How long had they been planning, plotting, killing?
“My understanding,” Orendiel went on, “was that your daughters were removed from your care at a young age, raised in separate homes with no knowledge of you or each other. There's no guarantee they will even remember you, let alone agree to follow you into a cause that flies directly in the face of everything they now stand for.”
“Agreed,” Fenlos said, and Talia smiled at Trinity, vicious and vindictive.
“A mother’s love for her children is a bond that cannot be broken,” Trinity snapped, and again I tried not to puke, but she was just getting warmed up. “Not by time or by distance,” she ranted on, “not by magic or rumors or lies, and most certainly not by creatures so vile as demons, vampires, and shifters. Yes, my daughters and I have some things to work through, as any family would after a prolonged estrangement. But as I’ve said countless times before, I’m confident that once we clear up those misunderstandings, we will be united again as a family.”
“Tell me they’re not buying this crap,” Addie said, but for now, it seemed they were doing just that. Talia and Fenlos had settled back in their chairs, and if any of the others thought to challenge Trinity, none of them said it out loud.
I could barely believe my eyes and ears. Could our birthmother really be that delusional? Clearly, she’d been drinking her own Kool-Aid for far too long.
The question was… How the fuck had she convinced the others sitting around this table to drink from the same damn jug?
Commotion at the front door snagged my attention, and all three of us turned to see someone enter the house in a frenzied rush, her dark brown hair windblown across pink cheeks, glasses askew on her face.
Georgie.
My eyes misted. In that moment, I didn’t care whose side she was on. I loved her instantly, and I suspected Haley and Addie felt the exact same way.
“We have to help her,” I said.
“There’s nothing we can do here,” Haley said. “Let’s just see what we can find out, then we’ll go back home and make a plan.”
“But she’s—”
“Gray.” Haley nodded at the table. “Shh. Just listen.�
�
“Sorry," Georgie panted, rushing into the dining room, tracking snow through the house. “I was in Rockport trying to figure things out with the witches. I tried to get home faster, but this weather is insane.”
Trinity arched an eyebrow, spearing our sister with her patented frosty glare. “Tell me you've made progress on that front, or you may turn around, march right back out the way you came, and try again.”
Georgie removed her snow-crusted winter coat and draped it over one of the empty chairs, then flopped into the seat, her shoulders slumping. In a small, watery voice, she said, “It's not that easy, Mom. They don't trust me.”
“And who's fault is that, Georgina?” Trinity asked.
Desperation crept into Georgie’s eyes. “I tried to tell you before, but—”
“Enough!” Trinity silenced her with a raised hand, making her flinch.
The unknown fae started rambling on about maps and coordinates and supplies, but I barely heard him. I was so focused on Georgie, so shocked that she was here, right in front of us, alive and whole and beautiful and just… real.
And now, I knew without a doubt she was not here by choice. I could sense it in her reactions, in her movements around Trinity. And there, beneath the fear and desperation, a flicker of the fighting spirit I sensed in all of my sisters. In myself.
However Trinity had found her, whatever she had done or said to convince her to follow her, Georgie was a prisoner now. Again, I felt the anger rise inside me, the rage so close to the edge I could taste it.
Rage at my mother, who’d tried to murder us. Rage at Deirdre, who’d signed away my soul and separated me from my sisters. Somehow, she’d believed that if we were never reunited, the prophecy could never come to fruition. That the four of swords could never rise and fulfill our true destiny. That breaking up our family—our sisterhood—would somehow keep us safe.
I thought of all the witches back at the lodge, and all the witches here in Blackmoon Bay, and all the witches across the entire world who’d been forced to endure the same tortures, and I knew that we would never be safe. Not until every witch was free to live the life she chose, without the constant threat of hunters, dark fae, and power-hungry monsters like the woman sitting at the head of this table, desperate to claim what was never hers.