CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN
SHEENA
Blood gushing from Gideon’s throat. His eyes glassy with pain. Knowing there was nothing I could do to save him. I blink, trying to clear the gruesome images from my head. It’s no use. Every few seconds, I see Gideon bleeding out in front of me again.
Did Callum intend for Ciprian to do that?And if so, why?
Callum was quiet after the break-in this morning. He told us to get started on training without him while he talked over security options with the tech team. I didn’t think much of it at the time, and I wanted a distraction from the masked man, but maybe I should have asked more questions.
Pushing my way through the door to the Therion home, I catch my hip on the console table in my hurry to be alone. Keys and coins go flying. The sharp pain rattles the tenuous grip I have on my tears. Another ragged sob breaks free as I stare at the mess.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Sarah comes around the corner, concern etched in each of the fine lines on her face. I’ve barelyknown her a day, but I rush into her arms like I have a right. She smells like cookies and comfort, exactly how I always imagine a mom should, and my emotional dam suffers a critical failure.
Absently, I hear the sound of my frantic breaths interrupted by hiccuping sobs as Sarah leads me into her cozy living room. She guides me down to the couch and drags a soft blanket onto my lap. I tuck it around my legs, remembering how Gideon did the same thing for me when I told him and Callum about my abduction. He must have learned it from his mom.
That makes me cry harder.
While I’m completely melting down, Sarah grips my hands between her own and waits patiently, giving me a chance to get myself under control without demanding answers. It takes a few minutes before I’m able to quiet my sobs, and then the entire story pours out of me. By the time I finish, Sarah is shaking her head in disbelief.
“Those stupid boys,” she mutters. “I love them to death, but they can be completely clueless sometimes.” She pats my hand and rises from the couch. “Hang on, honey. We need wine to work through all this.”
Even though it’s still early, Sarah comes back carrying a comically oversized bottle of chardonnay and two of the largest wine glasses I’ve ever seen. She pours us both a generous amount and curls up on the couch next to me. My ladylike sip quickly becomes a gulp once I realize how good the chilled wine feels after my crying jag.
“You’re not just upset about the illusion,” Sarah says, and I shake my head vigorously.
“It feels like they planned it together as some kind of prank on the girl that doesn’t understand this world.” I wipe another dumb tear off my cheek in frustration. “I’m trying so hard to keep up. When Callum suggested the supernatural boot campthis morning, I got excited. I wanted to prove I could belong. Instead, I completely broke down.”
I take a deep, steadying breath to keep the tears at bay. I’m tired of crying.
“Sarah, it was so real. I swear I could feel his blood slipping through my fingers as I tried to hold his neck closed.”
She shudders at my description, and I remember too late that I’m describing the fake death of her real child.
“Oh, I believe you, Sheena. Ciprian has always been a very strong nightmare demon. Even as a young boy—before he manifested—we saw flashes.” She shakes her head as she reminisces. “One second I would be feeding peas to a toddler.” She snaps her fingers. “Then a little dragon with needle-sharp teeth and scales made of bowtie pasta would be sitting in my lap.”
Sarah chuckles at the memory. I can’t help but smile as I picture it.
“He could never get it quite right, but even then, his illusions were believable. Of course, Gideon and Callum egged him on,” she says as she refills my wine glass. “Ciprian wanted to impress them so badly.”
“They were close as kids?”
“Inseparable.” She frowns. “Things didn’t change until their teens.”
“When Callum manifested as an incubus?”
“Yes.” Sarah sighs. “It was a tremendous blow for Callum. I think it came as a shock for Mallory and Dimitri as well. They didn’t handle it well.” She sips her wine in thought. “Ciprian was fourteen at the time. Overnight, all the pressure fell on him to carry on the nightmare legacy.”
“He didn’t want it,” I suggest.
“He never wanted that kind of responsibility,” Sarah says, shaking her head. “So he started acting out. Meanwhile, Callumbuckled down to prove to them they were wrong about incubi. I think he wanted to show them that nothing had changed, that he was still a worthy son.”
“But it didn’t matter how good Callum was or how bad Ciprian acted because of their magic,” I say, filling in the gaps. My chest burns over the way both brothers were treated.
Sarah hums in agreement and leans back, swirling the wine in her glass. “The boys fell out with each other because Callum felt like his brother threw away everything Callum had worked for but could no longer have.” She takes a sip. “And Ciprian resents Callum for leaving him behind.”
It makes complete sense, but I hate it.
