Even though he’s a year older, I’m grateful we’re about the same age, so we can hang out often without his parents around. Both of them make me nervous in their own way, but Vaughn is the one I dread spending more time with—the proof of Mom’s affair shines bright green every time he looks at me.
For some reason, the familiar pair of eyes are easier to accept on Zach. After all, he probably has no idea his father cheated on his mother. And as Bryar’s other half-brother, I feel a sense of kinship to him, even though the two of us aren’t related.
I even relax enough in their pompous penthouse in The Ravenna when we crash there after the latest Hunter’s Guild meeting. It was a long lecture by Vaughn about vigilance, vigilance, and more vigilance for any sign of the legacies growing abilities, which would indicate Cami is binding her circle.
If he bothered to get to know her at all, he’d know she’d never start a new circle. But that’s a moot point, of course.
Zach heads to the mini bar as soon as we enter, and I plop down on the puffy couch. He pours ice and coke in two glasses, then throws a daredevil look at me over his shoulder. “Want a splash of something extra in yours?”
“I probably shouldn’t,” I say, but I hold his gaze.
He snickers and adds a sip of rum to each glass. “I trust you can hold your liquor. And you’re graduating this spring. Got to get ready for college.”
I let out a breathy, low laugh and take the glass he offers me.
Zach clinks his glass against mine. “Cheers.” He gulps right in. “So, I hear that you were into the banshee last winter.”
The alcohol is watered down in such a tall glass, but I don’t miss the intent behind it. It’s meant to loosen my tongue.
“That was before I found out what she is,” I feed him the expected line.
“Right, right.” Zach crosses one leg over the other. “You never told me how you managed to sniff them all out. Your instincts must be strong.”
Tension pulls my shoulders back, but I wave him off. “I had a ton of help from my friend Collin.”
“Ah, sorry mate. He’s the one they killed, isn’t he?”
I nod with a grim expression. “He didn’t deserve it.”
It’s easiest to maintain the front when I share my honest opinions. Collin wasn’t perfect. He played his part in the ambush on Cami, like the rest of Andreev’s crew, but even the legacies will agree he didn’t deserve that fate. I saw it in Jean’s eyes. She didn’t mean to be his executioner.
“But before your friend Collin helped... How did you know? What were the first clues?” Zach takes another hardy sip from his glass.
“The usual way, I guess...” I drag out the explanation, thinking of all the details I’ll need to obscure. “We lace our wine with vervain. My neighbor, Jean, choked on it. Stuff like that.”
His gaze burns right through me, but just when I think he’ll call me out on it and dig deeper into my special talent to sense the legacies, he shrugs. “And have you ever experienced anything odd in the effect they have on you? Any strange resistance to their powers?”
I snort and laugh in a way I can only hope comes out convincing. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” My foot taps, betraying my nerves, so I reach for a change of topic. “Hey, so what about Vanessa? What’s the plan for her?”
He furrows an eyebrow at me, then uncrosses his legs so he can lean in. “She’s warmed up to me, even invited me to be her date for her cousin’s quinceañera on Saturday.”
I rub my chin, searching for a way not to seem too obvious when I ask what they’re planning for her. Then I catch myself. “Good, good.”
Zach finishes his drink and stands to make himself another. “You want to know what awaits her, don’t you?”
My shrug comes off anything but nonchalant. I’ve lost my poker face.
Zach only laughs. After a bit more time at the minibar and the clinking of ice in his new drink, he returns with a glass for himself and a new one for me.
“Maybe one day you’ll tell me everything about the instincts that led you to the legacies?” When I don’t reply, he gives me a half smile and clinks the glasses together again for a toast. “And I’d be happy to show you the arsenal we’re packing.”
WHEN I GET HOME, BRYAR is in the backyard for target practice. Two arrows stick from the innermost circle on her hay target. My sister draws the bow for another shot, right hand at the level of her chin, like Mom taught us. She lets the arrow fly. It whistles through the air and hits the target right between her first two arrows.
“Great shot,” I say. “Not sure it’s the best time to be practicing, though.”
My thoughts shift to the hunters swarming around us like sharks—a few more arriving each day since the Hastings got here. Weirdly enough, no news from Mom.
“It’s the only time I have.” Bryar nocks another arrow and lets it fly. It hits the bullseye like the others.
“That’s not what I mean. We’re trying to keep you hidden from the hunters. The more battle-ready you seem, the harder they’ll try to get you to join them.”
“What about learning to defend myself?” Bryar repeats the action.
The bullseye is crowded, the arrows all clustered at the very center.
“If you don’t draw attention to yourself, you won’t get in trouble,” I say.
Bryar whirls around, bow lowered. “Draw attention to myself? You’re the one spending every day with your new hunter pal. Has he found out about your shirtless make-out session with Cami?”
“What’s your point?” I raise my brows at her. This is not a subject I want to discuss with my sharp-tongued sister.
“My point is, if you can keep a poker face in front of the newcomers, so can I. Haven’t I earned the right to be trusted already?”
It’s the intensity, the relentlessness in her green eyes that makes my gut roil. It would be so much easier if she had Father’s genes. I’d explain what he told me about our heritage in a heartbeat.
But after the talk Zach and I had, I’m unshakable. The Hastings are after hunters like me and Father. If they suspected Bryar of being one as well, they’d chase after her even harder. Or if they knew Vaughn is her biological father, they’d want her to join them for that reason. And to turn on us.
I refuse to lose my sister to the dangerous dance between the hunters and those rare exceptions like me.
It’s a low blow, but I disperse the focus the only way I know how. “Staying away from the hunters is the easiest way to keep Jean safe. If the hunters suspect you know what she is, they’ll expect you to break up with her or play her. Maybe even trap her or fight her. Trust me. It’s best for everyone if you play it cool and ignorant.”
Bryar watches me for a long moment. My body grows warm with the tension of lying, but I don’t crack.
At last, she scrunches her nose and says, “I have a feeling there’s something you’re not telling me. Again.” She whirls around and shoots three arrows in close succession. They form a perfect triangle as they hit the target. “But I figured out the last mystery. I’ll figure out this one as well.”
She sounds more and more like a hunter with instincts.
“Please, don’t,” I say routinely, hoping she’ll cackle at that. No such luck.
“Oh, I will.” Bryar stomps over to the target and plucks out all the arrows. “I’ll see you at the quinceañera.”
I climb the few stairs to the back door of the house, positive I was never this stubborn. “Any way I can convince you not to go?”
“Of course not.” Bryar takes a stance, ready to fill the bullseye with arrows again. “Jean’s invited. You don’t want her to show up without a date, do you? That would make the hunters suspicious that I’ve found out what she is.”
Chapter 23. Cami
OVER THE NEXT WEEK, we turn into Vanessa’s handmaidens, trying to get everything organized for her cousin’s quinceañera. Vanessa bursts with energy, whether she’s creating lists of errands for us to do, straighten
ing out any glitches with the hotel staff, or casually flirting with Zach.
As much as I worry about her keeping a lid on the budding attraction between them, the hectic atmosphere before the event leaves me with no alternative but to trust the members of my circle. There’s strength in our numbers. I won’t be alone watching out for Vanessa.
The day begins with a mass service in the church by Town Square. Vanessa’s cousin looks prim and sweet in her white gown. Her damas, Vanessa included, wear hot pink dresses in a glossy, synthetic fabric. Not the best fit for the suddenly warmer weather.
I take a seat for the service with Charity, her sister, Rosy, and Jean. My eyes scan the crowd for familiar faces, but I don’t have to spy for Mason for long. He approaches us with Bryar, who hurries to sit next to Jean. Mason sits on his sister’s other side, avoiding accidentally casting a glance my way.
I lift my chin like I don’t mind, like I’ve done every time we cross paths at school, but I silently wish he’d visit me under the cover of night again. Or at least steal a dance, maybe even a kiss from me today.
I clear my throat quietly to chase the thought away. We both have our parts to play.
The Ravenna is located only two blocks away from Town Square, so once the mass is over, we file out like a parade of formally dressed people. My silver, strappy heels dig into my little toes, but I grit my teeth. It’s the only pair I own that goes with the less impressive dark blue dress Vanessa approved for me.
In her words, a Manhattan it-girl should not outshine the star of the event. Not that I think I would have, but I indulged her.
Jean wears black as always while Charity looks radiant in a light-blue dress. I try not to glance at Mason too often as we walk, but his proximity is enough to make the imaginary butterflies swarm in my stomach. Unlike most guys, he doesn’t need to age to be able to pull off that navy suit.
And he isn’t the only one.
Zach, dashing as sin in a black suit and white shirt, has been a model date for Vanessa so far, hovering around her and posing for the pictures that require it. But it doesn’t matter to us. Jean, Charity, and I follow them with our eyes across the crowd.
Once we reach The Ravenna for the party, it becomes harder to keep track of Vanessa. Tons of legacies and even humans were invited, so as much as we try to stick together, our group gets split up. First, Charity gets trapped with the caterer to sort out some emergency during Vanessa’s toast.
Then, once people mingle, drinking and munching on the finger food, I lose Jean to Bryar who insists they dance.
I fall into place next to Mason as I pile a few bites from the buffet onto a small plate. His sharp intake of breath lets me know he’s struggling to maintain a cool distance from me.
“Did you learn anything more about their plans for Vanessa?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “They’re pretty cryptic about it. She shouldn’t have asked Zach to be her date.”
“Try telling her that,” I say. “She thinks she can keep him occupied, so we could sneak into their suite and find out more about these new hunters and their ways.” There’s no time to explain exactly what I’m after—proof he harmed my mother.
Mason frowns, piling more food on his plate, although it’s probably just an excuse to stay near me. “If you do sneak upstairs, be careful. They’ll likely have security.” He cuts me a sideways glance. “And check the study. They always keep it locked.”
He’s gone in a flash, leaving me to digest his tips. For a while, I follow Vanessa with my eyes, but she’s surrounded by family. If Zach tries something, he’d never get out of the room without a nasty curse or twenty. So I refocus, searching for Charity.
When I don’t spot her, I follow a waiter who carries a tray of empty champagne glasses. He disappears behind the doors to the kitchen when I hear a hissing, “Psst.” Charity pops out of the other set of double doors, probably used by the staff to bring in the stock.
She greets me with a wide grin. “Look what I’ve got.” She fans herself with a key card. “That’s our ticket to the hunters’ suite. The staff use it for room service. I can sneak in under the pretext of refreshing their bar and—”
I cut in, “As if you’d pass for hotel staff!”
She’s striking in her light-blue dress, a far cry from the crimson and white uniforms of The Ravenna’s staff.
She sucks in her lower lip, fighting a devious smile. “About that... There’s something you should see.”
Charity leads me down the service corridor to a bathroom with ’Staff’ written on the sign. She pushes the door open before I can protest.
Once we’re alone inside, she presses her palms together and draws them to her lips. “There’s a perk that comes with being in your circle. I never thought I’d get to try it.”
At my shocked expression, she fishes a crochet doll and a bundle of herbs from her purse. The doll is clearly a representation of her—bronze brown body in a blue dress. Charity clutches the doll under one arm while she places the herbs in the sink.
“What about the fire alarm?” I ask.
“There shouldn’t be enough smoke to trigger it.”
Charity spreads out three types of herbs. She burns the dried yellow flowers first, then the nettle leaves, and then a perfectly shaped dried red rose. As the rose petals curl and turn to dust, she calls forth a purple shield that envelops her. She sprinkles the dust from the burnt herbs on the representation doll.
The shield flickers a few times and dissolves.
No. It doesn’t dissolve. It settles.
I gasp as I take in Charity’s appearance. She still looks like herself, but plainer, less glamorous. Her hair is pulled back and framed glasses disguise her face. But the biggest change is in her attire. She’s wearing the hotel staff uniform, complete with a name tag that reads, ’Sydney.’
I give her a smile and an encouraging nod. “Charm me up, and I’m coming with you.”
“It’s too risky—both of us missing from the party, two staff members restocking a bar. It’ll only draw attention to us.”
I don’t want to let her go on her own, but she has a point. “All right, but I’ll hang out in the lobby and text you if any of the hunters leave the party. Keep your phone on you.”
She nods.
“And hurry.”
Another nod.
Despite the nerves pulsing through my core, I smile at her. “And this is so cool.”
She giggles. “I know, right?”
My hands have turned clammy, so I wipe them as I smooth my dress before we exit the restroom. Charity stops by the kitchen and rolls out a trolley with ice and bottles of alcohol, then disappears with it into the elevator.
I take a seat on the puffy couch in the hotel lobby, pretending to give my feet a rest from the high heels. From this vantage point, I see not only the elevators, but the doors to the quinceañera party. I check my phone and battery level over and over as the seconds drag out.
My stomach rumbles even though I’ve only had a glass of champagne. My breathing hastens like I’m about to get sick. This can’t be nerves, and it can’t be alcohol.
My eyes remain on the doors. Luckily, no hunter comes through, but Seff exits the party and comes over to me.
His greeting sounds muffled as I grow dizzier. I place a hand on the couch cushion to keep myself upright. Something is very wrong. The whole room spins.
I pant in slow breaths, trying to make sense of what’s happening to me. That’s when I consider the possibility... This isn’t happening to me. Whatever this is, I’m feeling it through a link.
Armed with that knowledge, I try to push down the dizziness enough to stand, but I sway when I do.
“Hey, are you all right?” Seff grabs my elbow.
I lean into him, trusting him with my weight. “We need to find Vanessa.”
These days, I don’t get surges of emotion as strong as when Jean was my only link, but I still feel connected to each of the girls. I know it’s Vanessa. Maso
n’s warning snaps me out of the wooziness flowing through the link. I steel my knees. “Now.”
“She headed off to the piano lounge with that human,” Seff spits out with annoyance I don’t have the mental capacity to process. “I don’t think she’ll want to get interrupted.”
“I think he drugged her.” Ice sloshes in my belly.
As much as I don’t want to leave her alone on this mission, Charity will have to rely on the shield to keep her out of trouble. There’s no way I’m letting the hunter fulfill whatever plan he has for Vanessa.
Seff supports me, even though I assure him I’m fine, and I finally spring for the doors. We push through the crowd as I fight a new onslaught of dizziness.
Without an explanation, I grab onto Awan when we pass him by. “Go to the lobby and wait for Charity, please.”
He stares at me in confusion, but I squeeze his arm and repeat, “Please.”
Awan nods and heads in the direction Seff and I came from.
We sneak into the piano lounge, which has been closed off from the event with red rope. The lighting inside might be dim, but the sight we stumble onto is clear as day.
Zach seems to be the only thing supporting Vanessa upright. “I think you should sit down.”
But Vanessa pulls him down to her by the tie and devours him in a kiss. He pulls out as gently as he can while she sways in his arms.
“Get off her!” I shout. The crystal chandelier trembles at my unchecked tone.
“Trying to,” Zach says.
Seff and I rush over to pull them apart.
“Careful!” Zach says as soon as we rip Vanessa out of his grip.
She falls limp in Seff’s arms. “Everything is spinning. Are we on a boat?”
I punch an accusatory finger into Zach’s very firm chest. “What did you give her?”
He lifts his hands up like I’m holding a gun to his face. “Diluted snake venom. Just a few drops.”
I glance back to check on Vanessa. Seff has dragged her over to the couch where she sinks into the cushions, her head lolling back.
“What does it do?” I snarl at Zach, making the chandelier above tremble again. I’m not in the mood to pretend I know.
Suspension (Elmwick Academy Book 2) Page 15