As the minutes pass us by, the piece of Dagger wrapped in a cloth in my hand grows heavier. Either that, or the choice I know I’ll be faced with haunts the back of my mind, making the weight of what this Dagger means heavier. All I can think about is my parents. I’ve avoided any direct thoughts about them since they were taken, but now that saving them is within reach, I can’t stop.
Gavin’s hand plunges through his hair and he lets out a large, deep breath. “Mack will know what to do. He has to.”
The door opens, and a student I’ve never seen before walks out. She walks past us not even paying attention to us. Mack’s at the door, welcoming us in. He looks unusually tired, the dark crescents under his eyes hallow and large. His hair has grooves from running his hands through it too many times. Lines mar the sides of his mouth, accentuating his age. Compared to Weldon’s boyish smile, he looks more of an older brother than a twin.
I wait for everyone to go first, counting the seconds it takes for me to catch my breath. Jaxen waits too, a silent, pendulant force that cannot stray from my side. We’re two magnets drawn together through love and tragedy. We both stand there like statues, waiting for someone to knock us over so the many cracks can shatter into a million pieces.
“Come on,” he says softly, his hand finding mine at my side. We walk through, and then the door shuts behind us.
“What is it?” Mack asks as soon as I find my seat on the couch. Although it’s a general question, his eyes are trained on me, seeking the answers we’re about to give him.
“There’s something we need to talk about,” Gavin says with severity.
Mack grips the mantel of the fireplace, his back to us. The tension in his shoulders is painfully obvious. “All right,” he says, his tone neutral. The air turns to ice when he turns back around and his eyes land on Weldon.
“Brother,” Weldon says smoothly, seeming undisturbed by his brother’s weighted stare. He kicks his feet up on the coffee table and sinks back into the couch, his arms splayed out along the back. Mack dips his head ever so slightly, watching Weldon through lowered eyes. It makes me wonder just why Mack’s so uncomfortable around him. Why, when Weldon’s the reason he was able to become an Elder? He’s able to live.
“All games and riddles aside, we know what’s up,” Weldon says direct and to the point.
“And that is,” Mack asks, not sounding the least bit amused. His eyes flicker over to mine.
“The book you gave Faye,” Weldon tosses it onto the coffee table, “about Whiskey Hallow...you wanted her to read about the Dagger of Retribution.”
Mack’s gaze turns astute. “You may say that.”
“So you’re under an enchantment then?” Weldon says. He looks over at us. “Told you. This is why you had to read through that boring book. He always…”
“The point,” Mack says in a short, imperious burst.
Weldon’s head snaps back around. “Calm down, brother. We wouldn’t want you giving yourself a heart attack. What I was going to say was, I’m sure by now you know about the attack by the supposed ‘Darkyn Coven leaders’ last night during our hunt. I’m sure you know, because there was no coincidence to that encounter. That’s why you called an early hunt.”
“And?” Mack says, never denying the accusations.
I want to leap over the table and strangle the composure from his face. I want to smack the truth from his lips. I want to strangle the lies from his heart. Jaxen grabs my hand and squeezes, holding me down in place.
“And they want the Dagger of Retribution by the next full moon. It’s the bargain for her parents’ lives, and she’s running out of time. We have to find it.” His words are short and choppy, jumping between boredom and annoyance.
The grim look that crosses Mack’s face rattles a sick feeling in my stomach. He drops down onto the couch, his head falling perfectly onto a hand. “I apologize for last night. There are forces in place I cannot go against, and I cannot speak of. You were sent on that mission by a command higher in the ranks of the Priesthood, by a name I’m not at liberty to say at this time,” he says, his voice lost as his eyes stare off into space.
“But that doesn’t explain how you knew she’d need the book,” Weldon points out. “Tell her the truth, brother. I can see it hiding in your eyes.”
Mack’s eyes fall on me, and I know in his gaze that whatever he’s about to say, it’s going to shatter me into a thousand pieces. “What I’m about to tell you, can never be repeated. Never. Not by any of you.” He pulls in an encouraging breath and says to me, “Your bloodline was chosen by the Divine Alesteria and Cecilia to protect this half of the Dagger of Retribution. It’s why it was in your Grimoire. Every Witch from your bloodline has been responsible for keeping the Dagger safe within it. I didn’t know of this until your mother came to me when you were born. She knew then what you were truly capable of and asked for my help. I did some digging, and that’s when I discovered the Divine Cecilia’s vision. The vision about the one who would hold the power of both.
“I knew then that we had to hide you. I knew then that you would never be safe unless your powers were covered up. I found a spell that would cloak your abilities. I thought it would hold through the Culling. If it had, then you would have remained in the dark and the Dagger would have remained protected.”
He takes in a deep breath. But I don’t. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. Jaxen squeezes my hand, but it does nothing to calm my rapidly beating heart.
“But what you are is stronger than any spell can contain. What you are is a tool to unlock the very thing that caused our Coven to rethink our way of magic. The Dagger is only the beginning. That is all I can say.”
My mind scrambles to keep up with everything he’s saying. My stomach sloshes around every lie ever spoken from my mother’s lips. The realized truth presses behind my eyes, seeking release. “What you’re saying is…”
My words are trampled over by Jaxen’s. “So then we will do nothing.” His voice is so low I can barely make it out. Jezi snorts.
“But my parents…we have to,” I say defensively. He doesn’t look at me.
“They’ll take you when you offer them the Dagger, Faye,” Mack says.
I look over at him, unable to hide the anger from my features. I want to cram his words back into his mouth. I want to make him stop talking, to keep him from destroying my justification for saving my parents, but he continues on.
“Your parents knew what they were getting themselves into. They knew there would be risks. Your mother was trying to protect you...we were trying to protect you from this. I only gave you the book in hopes that you would figure out who you really were and the truth about what was in your Grimoire. I thought maybe if you realized, then you would be able to keep it safe. I thought your mother would have indirectly prepared you for this, but I guess I was wrong.”
I can’t even look at him because I’m shaking so badly. To even think…to even speak…
Questions fire off around the room, all sounding too far away for me to even try to comprehend. Do I even know my mother? Was every moment, every kind word, a lie? No. I know she loves me, but I can’t keep the feeling of betrayal from crystallizing my heart into something irreparable. I can’t stop the need to explode from settling into my fists, arming them with the strength to destroy.
Mack puts his hand up, silencing the room with one look. I sit there, trying to digest it all. It’s like trying to swallow dirt and shards of glass; gritty and painful. They’re waiting for me to speak, to give them a leg to stand on.
I clear my throat. “Despite the risks, I have to try. For my parents,” I grit out. Jaxen stiffens. The rest of them huff, or suck their teeth, or sigh heavily. They all feared I would say this. They all knew I wouldn’t quit for the sake of being safe.
“They won’t stop with your parents, Faye,” Weldon says, staring off. “You asked me about how I got in and out of the Underground. Well, here’s the truth. I made a deal with a Demon.”
Mack’s head hangs at the admittance.
“It was my only option, because the only other way starts with that half of the Dagger right there.” He points to it. “And now that it’s surfaced, there’s no going back. This is only the beginning. This is the bargain before the war, their attempt at a fake treaty. Even if we don’t help her find the other half of the Dagger, they’ll continue to search for it and they’ll take her anyway. We’re better off helping her and hoping to overthrow them before this gets out of hand.”
I look over at him. I’m an ocean of gratitude.
Jaxen’s body is rigid. I swear if someone tapped him with a hammer he would shatter into a million pieces. “There has to be another way. We can send the Elite in. They can head this off.”
“Despite what my brother has said, their numbers will be stronger. They wouldn’t have shown themselves if they weren’t ready,” Weldon points out. “You know this, Jaxen. Don’t let your feelings for her cloud your judgment.”
Jaxen’s a raging bull, aiming for Weldon’s red cape. “We can’t put her in this kind of danger.”
“She’s already in danger.”
They’re both on their feet now, chests out and fists ready.
Gavin stands up and worms his way in between them. “Why don’t we take a breather? We’re all exhausted from last night and from this overload of information.” He turns to Mack. “I wish you would have just come out and said this from the beginning.”
“I couldn’t. I still shouldn’t, but they’re leaving me no choice. After last night, after the attack in the school, it’s clear this is nothing to be brushed under the rug. Faye has half of the blade.” He points to the cloth it’s wrapped in on the table. “And we must find the other half before they do.”
“How do you suppose we do that?” Gavin asks.
“I don’t know. I have to do some digging and speak with the High Priesthood. I’ll have more for you tomorrow.”
“That’s it?” Gavin asks.
I’m still stuck on the fact that he knew, and my mother knew, and all of this has been just one big secret kept from me.
Mack raises his brow. “Were you expecting something more? This is just as much news to me as it is to you. There’s still a procedure to follow. I have to inform the Coven of this before we can make a move. I also need time to gather up a plan for you. It’s not like the Dagger will be an easy feat. It was hidden by Alesteria. For the time being, remain on campus. That way I can get in touch easily. I’ll summon you when I have word.”
My mind’s racing to keep up with his words, with everything he’s saying. “No,” I hear myself say, softly at first. No one hears me. No one notices my panic. “NO,” I say louder, this time stopping everyone as I stand. “You can’t just get away with it that easily.” My eyes fall on Mack, accusing, jeering him. “You can’t just take someone’s life and keep it a secret from them.”
“Faye,” Jaxen says, squeezing my hand again, but I pull away.
I take a step toward Mack. “You knew this whole time about my mother, about the Dagger, about who I am and what’s really going on, and you never said a word. You were both wrong in thinking I couldn’t handle this. If I had known, then maybe I could have hid it better. Maybe so many lives wouldn’t have been lost. Maybe my parents would still be here!” I drop my voice and fill my eyes with every bad thought flowing through my mind. “Shame on you.”
I turn away from him, leaving him with his mouth wide open. Gavin stands, followed by Cassie and Jezi. I’m the last to catch on, but stand, staring off. I have nothing left to say. My fate is sealed. It was the moment I decided I didn’t want to be a Defect.
We walk out of Mack’s office, but I don’t get two feet before Jaxen has me pinned against the wall, his veins taut in his neck. “Even if he finds the other half of the missing Dagger, you still can’t think, even for a second, that it’s safe to make a deal with the Darkyns. You can’t, for a second, think that everything will be okay if you hand this over just to save your parents,” Jaxen says, holding me by my arms.
“I’ll do what I have to,” I say, staring him straight in the eyes. “If it was your parents, you’ d do the same.”
“So if they tell you to jump into the fiery pits of Hell, you’ll do it? ‘Cause that’s what they will ask of you…and more. You might as well already call yourself one of them.” He lets me go and looks off to the side, his face stone cold. His jaw clenches in and out, and I can imagine the words rumbling through his mind.
My eye twitches. “What are you implying?” I ask, my voice shaking, straining to maintain control.
He doesn’t respond. He doesn’t have to. The look on his face says it all. The clench of his jaw, the harsh, betrayed look in his eyes, the flex of his crossed arms, the rigid posture…it speaks louder than words, and it doesn’t make me think any less of my decision.
After the others have disappeared down the hallway, I walk forward, unable to bear another moment under his judgmental gaze, but he grabs my arm and swings me to face him. I can’t hold my tongue any longer. “Just because your mother left you doesn’t mean that every other woman in the world will do the same. It doesn’t mean that every other woman is just as untrustworthy. I know she was your example, and what she did was wrong, but stop comparing me to her.”
Shock ripples over his face as his grip on my arm softens. I don’t think either of us was prepared for me to go there. From the moment I found out about his mother, I knew his issues stemmed from that, and I knew his reservations were much deeper than his death curse. I just never thought I would vocalize my realizations.
I inhale deeply and cross my arm over my chest, holding on to the other one. “What I mean is, I don’t, and never have had, any intention of betraying anyone or joining the Darkyn Coven, but if you keep doubting me, then this will never work between us.”
I leave him standing there to stew on what I said, and make my way back to my room. Classes are in session, so I know finding Katie to vent is out of the question. The past twenty-four hours have been more than I can handle. Somewhere between my tears and scattered thoughts, I drift off to sleep with Midnight curled up beside me.
I WAKE TO A KNOCK on my door. Midnight’s head lifts up off my chest, his tail flicking at the air. I glance over his head at the clock. “It’s almost midnight, Midnight.” A second later, it hits me. I jolt upright, my heart thundering against my chest. Something’s wrong. I slide my sweat pants on, pull a tank top over my sports bra, and make my way over to the door in one swift movement before opening it.
“Jaxen? Is everything okay?” He looks exhausted … almost gray-faced.
He walks right past me and I shut the door, locking it behind him. “I couldn’t sleep,” he says, sounding upset. He takes his shoes off and leaves them by the door, then pulls his shirt over his head, leaving him in nothing but black sweatpants, sweatpants that can easily be slid off. I blush at the thought.
“By all means, make yourself comfortable,” I say a little snarkier than I had intended. I walk past him, keeping my eyes straight ahead to stop myself from grazing over his perfectly sculpted body, and climb back into bed. Midnight has moved to the spot where I had been laying, sucking up all the residual warmth. I pick him up and set him on the floor.
“The last I checked, I wasn’t trustworthy. Remember? I can’t help you with your sleep issues, so if that’s all you’re here for, then please leave,” I say evenly. Somehow, against my better judgment, my gaze meets his across the room. Nothing but silvery light pours in through the window, leaving shadows for the heart to hide behind. I suck in a breath when our gaze connects. His green eyes are two wishing wells waiting for me to spill my inner most secrets.
But then his words surface from earlier, and I realize there are no wishes to be made.
I pull the covers up to my ears, training my eyes on the bathroom door. His steps carry around the bed, and then the mattress dips and creaks, the sound awakening heat in every part of me that yea
rns for his touch. I can’t tell if my body leans into him from the weight difference, or from my subconscious need to be close to him, but it does, and I do nothing to change it.
I realize I’m holding my breath the moment his hand slides under the covers and over my waist. The air jerks out of my lungs, every muscle in my being tensing from his touch. His fingers are cold from the frosty air, and bumps rise along my skin, causing me to shudder. He pauses from the motion, waiting for his hand to warm from my skin. His breath brushes along the back of my neck, transforming the goose bumps from the chill into signs of anticipation, anticipation I shouldn’t be allowing myself to feel.
I can’t think straight. I can’t make him leave even though I should.
I swallow, and he pushes his hand the rest of the way until it’s completely under my shirt. His thumb grazes over my ribs. There’s too much fabric between us. There are too many thoughts between us. I never knew such a small, innocent touch could have such a huge impact on my senses, but in the dark, it feels like everything is heightened. Lazily, he trails his fingers in small circles, each one driving me further and further into a lust-filled stupor.
He scoots closer to me, pressing himself against me and sharing his warmth. “You do know how you can help me,” he says huskily, nuzzling his lips against my ear and neck. His breath is so warm and minty, and his lips are so close to mine. All I have to do is turn and I’ll be touching them. I want to so badly. I want to drown in his touch and surface in his kiss. I want…I want him.
“How’s that?” I breathe out, counting the uneven, jagged seconds between breaths. My eyes are closed, savoring every moment of his touch. The stubble along his jaw scratches pleasantly against my ear when he moves. He scoots even closer, his hand drifting up the side of my ribcage, taking its time to trail each and every undiscovered part of skin. Thrilling spikes of anticipation melt my insides.
“By letting me hold you. By letting me be near you. By letting me apologize, and by understanding that I understand. You were right. I don’t want to die alone. I want to trust you. I do…trust you.”
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