by Krista Walsh
Daphne wished she could have eased her and Cheryl into the knowledge more smoothly, but the urgency was too great.
Her heart clenched with a passing wish that Harold Cly was still around. The old man had hidden his guardian identity well, and maybe he would have been too weak to face what was coming, but it would have been a relief to have the last pure guardian around to offer his advice and support. But then, he’d already sacrificed himself to help her. It would have been selfish to ask him to do it again.
Her throat closed at the memory of his passing, but she didn’t shove the thought of him away. Instead, she clung to it, using it to fuel her determination to convince her family that they were needed in this coming battle. Others before her had been brave enough to make a stand. Now it was Daphne’s turn. It was time for her to prove she was worthy of her power, and to use it the way her mother had always hoped she would.
“Look, I know you don’t want me to do this,” she said, “and you’d rather I stay safe at home and let other people handle it. I can’t say that’s not what I want, either. But it’s not going to happen.”
“And what about you, Daphne?” Cheryl asked, her voice sharp. “You know what you’re capable of if you slip. I’ve already spent too much of my life sitting back watching you destroy yourself, unable to stop you. Are you honestly willing to risk putting us through that again?”
From the way her mother’s gaze scanned the room, Daphne understood she didn’t just mean Cheryl and Evelyn, but Hunter as well. Years ago, they’d started out along the romantic path they were now following, but Daphne had messed it up with her ambition for power, both in the supernatural realm and within her career at the Chronicle. She had sacrificed her happiness, and she’d been coping with the consequences ever since.
The thought of sliding back down that road was enough to turn her blood cold, but she couldn’t see any other way.
Her throat felt thick with fear and unshed tears, but she pushed through. “Peony House was a sign of how far things can go if left unchecked. The snowstorm, the murders, the obvious increase in supernatural activity. Except it won’t be random events anymore. It will be targeted. It will disrupt the balance you’ve both worked so hard to keep — and you, too, in the mundane world, Hunter. I’ve seen who’s behind this, and if I can do anything to keep the people I care about safe, then you’re damn right I’m going to do it.”
A new expression came over Cheryl’s face. Her worry and fear didn’t disappear, but a stronger emotion shone through her eyes, one Daphne thought she recognized as pride — along with maybe a hint of recognition.
After a moment, her mother’s shoulders slumped. “You sound just like me before the coven uprisings. Remember, Mom?”
“How could I forget? Your father and I threatened to lock you in your room if you marched out, but you went anyway.” Evelyn offered her a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But this…” She turned to Daphne. “The risks here are greater than what your mother and I faced. There, we had numbers in our favor. The threat was spread out. Even if you manage to keep control over yourself, this would be five people working to bring down an enemy that could literally destroy the world.”
Daphne nodded. “Yes, it would be. But there’s something to be said for small numbers. We’ll be able to move faster, and without drawing as much attention. And maybe there’s also something to be said for the strength of our five.” She intertwined her fingers and allowed them to hang loose between her knees. “From the time I was born, my father wanted me to be greater than I am. He pushed me to learn so much and to always follow the power, right? I did it, blind to his reasons, but I achieved what he wanted. I’m strong. I’m stronger than he was, even than you two are. You know it’s true.” The silence hung in the room as she searched for her words. “I did so many terrible things to get here, but this could finally be my chance to put it to good use. My father wanted me to wield it to crush the people beneath me. I want to use it in a way that would make you proud of me. I can never make it up to the people I hurt, but maybe this is a way for me to atone. But I can’t do it alone. I need your help.”
Evelyn and Cheryl exchanged a glance.
Emmett was staring at the three of them, his mouth open. At her side, Hunter fidgeted, possibly growing uncomfortable with the direction the discussion had taken.
“Please,” Daphne said.
Subtly, so subtly that she almost missed it, Evelyn gave her daughter a nod. Cheryl released a breath through pursed lips and squared her shoulders. “What do you need?”
“Wait, what?” Hunter said. “You’re really going to help her? Am I the only one still not okay with this?”
Daphne grabbed his hand and met his gaze, working hard to see past the fear and discomfort staring back at her. “Imagine this was a mundane crime. What if the girl had been taken by a gang of the world’s worst criminals in their plan to destroy the city, and you had a chance to help? Would you sit back and let someone else handle it?”
He opened his mouth to answer, but she shot him a look, and he dropped his gaze. “I’d fight to get in on the inner circle and have my say.” He raised his eyes to meet hers again. “But I’m trained to do that sort of thing. You’re—”
“A journalist,” she said. “I know. What else can we do? Call the police?”
The retort came out before she could stop it. It wasn’t fair to lose patience with Hunter, and yet she couldn’t bite her tongue. What was hanging over their heads was nothing the mundane authorities could do anything to prevent. If they tried — if they believed her story enough to try — they would die.
Hunter’s expression was drawn with hurt, but when he didn’t respond, she knew he realized she was speaking the truth.
She drew in a deep breath, held it for a moment, and let it out when she felt ready to speak calmly. “If I were relying only on my skill for getting stories out of people, then you would be well within your rights to call me crazy. I would be the most irresponsible woman in the world. But I’m also a sorceress.” She rested her other hand over his. “We’re not going to run in half-cocked, Hunter. I promise. There’s a girl’s life at stake. We’re going to do this right.”
His throat worked as he swallowed. He said nothing else, but Daphne knew the conversation wasn’t over.
For now, she turned back to her mother and grandmother. “I don’t want you getting closer than you have to, but if you could bring the circle together, we would benefit by having some kind of protection around the prison. Something to slow the demons down if they try to run or cast any magic of their own.”
Evelyn frowned. “It would take a lot of power to work that kind of spell from this distance. And in a way that they wouldn’t notice.”
Cheryl nodded. “One hint of defensive magic, and they’d figure out how to break it down. It would need to be hidden, something they wouldn’t notice until they tried to pass through. And something like that wouldn’t be quite as strong — it likely wouldn’t be enough to hold them back once they realized someone was working against them.”
Daphne squared her jaw. “That’s fine. I’m pretty sure Zachariel doesn’t intend to let any of them escape. I just want to make sure the mundane aren’t drawn in by accident, that the people living near the prison won’t be hurt. If we can minimize the damage, maybe we can avoid mass panic.”
“You can count on us,” Evelyn said. “We’ll call in everyone we know. Let us know when and where you need the spell set, and we’ll make sure everyone is in position to add their power.”
The muscles between Daphne’s shoulders eased, and she sank into the couch cushion. Now that she’d achieved her reason for coming downstairs, all she wanted to do was curl up in her mother’s lap and cry. So much responsibility was hovering over her head, like a sword ready to drop, and while she’d talked a big game to her family, fear threatened to make her run while she could. The stakes were high. Molly’s life, the safety of the entire world — all of it lay balanced o
n the back of her and four other supernaturals who had only been tested by lesser threats.
The odds weren’t good.
She had no choice but to try.
“I want in,” Emmett said.
“No,” Daphne said, almost without thought.
He rested his hands on the back of the couch. “Are we going to do this every time? If you say no, I’ll just find another way to get involved.”
Cheryl reached over her left shoulder to rest her hand over his.
“I know I’m just a scrawny human without much experience, but Molly’s a cool kid. I hate the thought of her trapped somewhere, getting hurt and being afraid. Let me do something, because I’m not going to sit around here waiting to hear from you.”
Daphne met his eye and found his familiar stubbornness glaring back at her.
“Okay, fine,” she said, her impatience flaring up once more with its uncomfortable heat. “You come with us and stand there as bait. Then you die. Is that really what you want?”
She couldn’t afford to coddle him. The chances of his survival if he came with her were way too low.
But the hard glint in his eyes didn’t fade, and she wondered what the point was of wasting her energy. They’d been through this before after the murder of his best friend. She’d tried to block him out then, and he’d gone against her anyway. Why would this time be any different?
“If there’s something I can find for you to do far away from the prison, would that satisfy you?” she asked.
For a moment, she thought he’d push to fight at her side, at which point she’d have to ask the others to step in and help. Maybe leave him tied in the basement until she was far away. But then his shoulders slumped.
“Fine,” he said. “As long as I’m being useful.”
“All right,” she said. “But you’ll do as you’re told, is that understood? You’ve seen the demons we’re up against. They’d kill you with one strike.”
He held up his hands, his long face stretching into a sly grin. “I promise. I have no desire to look at their ugly faces again.”
Hunter shook his head and rubbed his fingers across his brow. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Better you accept it now if you intend to stay with my granddaughter for the long haul,” Evelyn said. “I have a feeling this mission is going to change everything for all of us.”
***
Daphne warned Emmett she’d be waking him up early, then sent him off to bed. After wrapping first her grandmother and then her mother up in long, tight hugs, she left them to try to get some rest while she and Hunter returned upstairs.
As she closed the door to her apartment, he stood in the middle of the kitchen, silence hanging around him like a shield.
She folded her hands behind her and leaned her back against the door jamb, watching him. His attention was directed at the floor, the crease between his brows deep with concentration. Was he angry? The air around him buzzed with anxious energy, but she didn’t know what sort of reaction she should be braced for. He wasn’t happy, but she’d known that would be the case. He probably thought she was stupid, or was upset that she would put herself in a situation that would risk her breaking every promise she’d made to him and her family. If she followed through with this plan, her magic would be strained. With threats this severe, she would have no choice but to use it, and to push herself hard. The possibility that she wouldn’t be able to draw herself back was real.
Was it fair to put him through all that again?
As much as she longed to know what was going through his head, she didn’t want to be the one to push the conversation. Her heart thrummed and blood rushed in her ears.
Finally, he raised his head. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, Daphne.”
She wished the words were enough to set her nerves at ease, but they remained taut. The desire to fold herself into his arms came as a physical ache, but the way he stood, arms crossed, prevented her from taking the chance.
“I won’t lie and say I’m not afraid,” she said. “I’m so scared that a big part of me wants to pull out. I don’t know what to expect, or what kind of trouble I’m going to get into.”
“Then why are you doing it?” he asked. “You say there are others working with you. Others who don’t have your history. Why can’t you leave it with them to solve this problem? You can stay here with Emmett and do what you can from a distance, can’t you? Add your magic alongside Cheryl’s and Evelyn’s. Somewhere they can pull you back if you need it.”
Daphne swallowed hard. “I can’t leave it on the others, Hunter. I wish I could. I wish we were a strong enough group that every person wasn’t necessary, but you haven’t seen these demons. They’ll need me.”
Her heartbeat pounded in her chest, and she wiped her palms against her jeans. Her tongue felt as though it were three sizes too big, dry and ill-fitting between her teeth.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know that’s not what you want to hear.”
“It really isn’t,” he said. “I wish I could say otherwise. I wish I could accept the risk you’re taking, but I can’t help but see how the odds are stacked against you. How can I stand on the sidelines and root for you when I could be cheering you on to your death? How could I live with myself if I said nothing to try to stop you and this took you away from me?”
Daphne’s throat tightened as an inner debate waged. This man meant the world to her. He had kept her grounded for the last few months, making it so much easier for her to say no to the convenience of her magic. She loved him, and the last thing in the world she wanted to do was hurt him if she failed. But if she couldn’t back down, how could she ask him to sit around and wait?
“I wish I knew what to do,” she said. “I wish I could listen to you and stay behind, but my conscience would never allow it. I don’t blame you for hating this, Hunter. In fact, it means more to me than you know. So maybe it’s best if you leave.”
Hunter’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
Daphne’s heart pounded until an ache spread out from her chest. She couldn’t believe what she was saying. “I’m going directly into the same kind of situation that brought you up in front of your lieutenant so many times in the past. The kind where I was in way over my head, just so I could get the credit of the byline. Regardless of who it hurt. I’m doing it for the right reasons this time, but I can’t guarantee that I won’t go that far again. And it’s not fair for you to wait here to find out which woman might return home. If I come home.”
“You can’t mean that,” he said. “With everything you’ve just told me, you’re really pushing me out?”
With every iota of strength she possessed, she raised her gaze to meet his. “I want you stay, Hunter. Of course I do. I love you. But if I take this chance, I have to stay focused and I have to do everything I can — whatever it takes. I can’t do that if I’m afraid I’m letting you down.”
She fell silent and bowed her head, unable to say anything else.
The floorboards creaked as he approached her, and she stiffened, braced for more words. Then a current of nervous warmth ran through her as Hunter traced his fingers over her cheek and curled them under her chin to lift her gaze. “I love you, Daphne. I don’t want you to think that I don’t. And despite how it might sound, I understand why you feel you need to do this, and I believe you when you say you’ll be careful. But if the most I can do to help you is to walk away, then that’s what I’ll do. I’ll walk and pray that you come back to me.”
Tears pierced Daphne’s eyes, and she squeezed them shut as he pressed a kiss against her forehead.
“Please don’t go,” he said, and in his voice she heard the same emotions putting pressure on her throat, preventing her from telling him what he already knew. That she’d already made up her mind.
Hunter bowed his head against hers, then squeezed her shoulder and walked past her.
Daphne swore her heart would stop as the door closed behind her. S
he dropped to the floor and drew her knees to her chest, burying her face in the harsh denim to stifle her sobs.
13
Allegra spun her glass of scotch between her palms and stared into the flickering flames behind the glass screen of her gas fireplace. The glow of the fire spilled across the floor and over her bare legs. She watched it dance, vaguely remembering a time when she could have lost herself in the trance of the movement. Now, she barely recognized that woman.
She set her glass on the table and pressed the pads of her fingers into her eye sockets. Leaning her back against the front of the couch, she stretched her legs toward the fire, adjusting herself on the rug.
“You should sleep,” Matthew said. He sat to her left, his knees drawn to his chest. Through him, she could see the outline of her liquor cabinet beside the window, the details blurred by his gray-scale form.
“The risk would not be worth it,” she said.
She hadn’t gone back to sleep since she’d called Gabe. The last nightmare clung to her too stubbornly for her to want to try. A buzzing sensation of tense exhaustion in the back of her mind was driving her to distraction, and she took another sip of her drink to drown it out.
“You won’t be any use to them if you don’t get some rest,” Matthew insisted.
She scoffed. “I suspect I will not be much use to them regardless of how much I’ve rested. You do realize where we are headed, do you not? Tartarus was enough to give the worst demons pause, and now it belongs to them. I cannot imagine what horrors await us there.”
Allegra ran her hand through her hair and twisted the ends around her index finger.
Without appearing to move, Matthew glided across the floor toward her, the coolness of his shoulder brushing against hers. Sparks shot under her skin, raising goosebumps.