I pull my lips tight. I trust Andra because Cate does, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I believe everything she Sees will come to fruition. And I know enough about Seers to know that visions are not always as they seem.
Still, I also know how to get my sister to do what I want her to do. “I don’t trust her safety with anyone but you, Dom.”
A hint of pride shines in her eyes, and I would feel guilty except I mean every word.
Once we make our way through the outer ring of trees, the hideout is easy to find. It’s a small stone building that looks like it was built hundreds of years ago. It probably was.
We make our way to the back of the building, skirting several guards, our disguises serving their purpose better than I could have anticipated. The night is chilly, with the promise of rain in the air, and the guards stick close to the building where it’s warmer. There is little light this deep into the woods, the only luminescence coming from the sliver of moonlight peeking through the clouds high above us. Between the lack of light and our disguises, we blend in easily.
We approach the small fortress on quiet feet. I don’t know if it’s Andra’s vision or sheer luck keeping us safe, but this almost feels too easy.
No sooner does the thought pass through my mind than a pair of guards circles the building, a mere fifteen feet away from the four of us. We all instinctively freeze, and our ridiculous getups do their job. Even though it goes against every instinct I have, I close my eyes, not wanting there to be even a hint of white visible among the darkness that encapsulates us.
I breathe in, quietly, slowly, honing my senses so my hearing can pick up on the slightest movements around me. Nothing but still silence from my companions. The guards, however, haven’t spotted us and continue on with their conversation like they would on any other occasion.
“What do you think actually happens inside there?” one questions the other.
“I don’t think we want to know. There are only two reasons to bring a steady stream of young girls into your home, and neither is any good. Sometimes it’s better to collect your coin and not ask questions.”
What the bloody hell is Lady M doing inside this fortress?
Dom nudges my elbow, and I nod. Squinting, I watch for the guards to turn their backs, face away from where we currently stand. My muscles start to cramp from the stillness, but the second the guards are diverted, Dom and I pounce. A couple of swift knocks to the back of the head and they both fold over easily, unconscious.
Cate’s sigh of relief is audible, and as we continue our path to the fortress’s entrance, she takes my hand, squeezing tightly.
I make eye contact with Alex a few moments later. He and I break away from Dom and Cate, ducking into a shadowed archway.I try not to let my mind linger on what they are going to do. Worrying about their mission will only impede my own. I focus on the reason why I’m here, what I need to accomplish.
Pushing open a heavy wooden door, Alex and I slowly creep into a darkened room, leaving our handheld boughs of leaves by the door to better aid our escape. The room appears to be an ancient-looking kitchen, dusty with disuse, a stone hearth and worn floors and sconces lined with unlit torches.
I find a hallway, unsheathing a dagger from behind my back before creeping along the stone-lined walk, Alex silent behind me. My steps are light and almost soundless, but I still take caution as I round a corner. Another room sits off to my right, the door partway open, flickers of light beckoning me forward.
Signaling for Alex to wait here in the hallway, I edge into the room. At first glance it’s empty, save for a small bed and a fireplace filled with sputtering flames. The décor is sparse, a single aged tapestry hanging on one wall, blankets a worn shade of ivory that used to be white, lumped on the bed.
But when my eyes adjust, I recognize the lump as a sleeping form.
It’s fitting, really. MacVeigh planned to kill my father when he was in some kind of Gifted-induced sleep, and now I get to repay the favor.
I cross the room in a few silent steps, angling my view to make sure this is the right person I’m about to murder.
The word turns something in my stomach, but I know there’s no time for that kind of thinking. He’s left me with no choice. I must do this if there’s any hope for the future.
Once I confirm that the man lying in the bed is in fact Harold MacVeigh, I raise the dagger higher, lining up to plunge the knife directly into his heart. It would probably be quicker and quieter toslit his throat, but somehow it seems the more violent of my options and I don’t know that I can stomach the outcome.
My hip leans into the mattress, and MacVeigh stirs with the shifting weight. I pull back, waiting to see if he’ll wake, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
His eyes flutter open, and my arm moves before I can even think about it.
A weak, bony hand juts up to stop me. I could easily shake him off, but something about the weary look in his eyes stops me.
“Callum Reid.” Harold’s voice is strained, broken. Nothing like the man Cate has told me so many stories about. Nothing like the man he was even just a few days ago, valiantly grappling with and ultimately overcoming my father. “I knew you would come.” He can barely get the words out, as if some kind of invisible force is choking the breath from his lungs.
I adjust my grip on the knife. “I told you I would.”
“As I told you I hoped would be the case.” He shifts on the bed, dropping his hold on my wrist and hoisting his body into an upright position. It takes longer than it should. “I am not well, Callum.”
“What is she doing to you?” I keep the dagger ready, but I can’t help but feel like I owe him this chance to say what he needs to. Like I owe it to her.
“We don’t have time for that now. There is much you need to know, so much only I can tell you.”
