His mother picks up her glass of orange juice and takes a dainty sip. “I have sent him to a prestigious finishing school.”
Monty jerks in his chair as if he has been slapped.
“First thing in the morning? Without telling me? Without letting him say goodbye?” He bites out sharply.
The duchess dabs her mouth with a perfectly white napkin. “Yes.”
Monty inhales sharply. He grabs the edge of the table and his knuckles turn white.
His mother’s green eyes flick to me briefly, and they glimmer. “You left me no choice, Montgomery. You are entirely too soft on vessels. You need to understand that they are merely tools.”
My guts twist painfully. My lungs feel heavy and my throat is too tight. Monty’s magic coils in the air, hissing like an angry snake.
“You think of Laurie, your own son, as merely a tool?” His voice is soft, the tone measured, but the threat in it is unmistakable.
Across the table, his mother straightens. Her magic lashes in the air, like a cat preparing to pounce. She says nothing, but she doesn’t need to. Her stance is clear enough.
“Laurie is coming home,” growls Monty.
Green eyes narrow. “You’ll never find him.”
Monty sucks in another sharp breath. “Mother, what have you done?”
I try to swallow, but I can’t. What should I do? How can I help? Monty needs me, but right now it just feels like I’m trapped with two angry mages and I hate how small and powerless it is making me feel.
“Don’t be so dramatic!” snaps the duchess. Her gaze flicks to me and the calculating look she gives me freezes the blood in my veins. “I’m simply keeping him away from you,” she continues. Then a tiny malevolent smirk curls her lips. “The fey are going to return and Lawrence will be given to a fey prince.”
Her words swirl around my mind. At first, they don’t make sense. They are just sounds with no meaning. Then Monty gasps in horror and turns to look at me with an expression of utterly broken dismay.
Then it clicks.
Fey. She said the fey are going to return. Like it would be a good thing.
Oh my god. They are Revivalists. Monty is a Revivalist. He is part of a cult that is working to bring the fey back to our world. He wanted Jade to succeed. He probably had something to do with it. It is quite possible that his whole relationship with me has been nothing more than a ploy to try to get closer to Jade. And to use my magic for their cause in the meantime.
With a sob, I jump to my feet. Blindly, I turn and run. I run as fast as I can. Where I am going, I have no idea. I’m in the house of Revivalists. They told me their secrets. They are not going to let me go.
But I have to try.
Behind me, I hear Monty calling my name.
It only makes me run faster.
Chapter twenty-six
Monty
How did I lose sight of Pink? How is he so darn quick? I skid into the ballroom. My feet sliding on the polished wooden floorboards.
“Pink?” I call desperately.
Nothing but silence answers me. Where is he? I swear he went this way. Where did he go? Curse the damn irony of vessels being impossible to track with magic.
I draw in a shuddering breath. I need to think, there is no point in tearing blindly around the house. I will never find him that way.
Thinking things through is always the better course. Brains not brawn. Planning before leaping. So, think, Monty, think.
If you were terrified and thought your boyfriend belonged to a dangerous cult, where would you go?
