Milo’s face flames red. He crumples the photo in his fist. “Stop this now,” he hisses. “You’re out of your goddamn minds. Evangeline killed herself. Everyone knows that.”
“A suicide?”I step forward, barely aware that a growl is rumbling in my throat. “Really?”I sign viciously.“We pulled her struggling body out of the goddamn water. We saw someone holding her under. There was no suicide.”
“You’re just trying to sabotage my sister’s future because she chose him over you.”
Dredyn goes deathly still. “Chose?”
Milo charges ahead, anger and desperation leaking out in equal measure. “Mara’s happy with Chase. She’s finally doing what’s right for our family, and you—” He jabs that finger at Dredyn’s chest. “You just can’t stand that you lost. So you invent this sick story to?—”
Dredyn explodes forward, seizing Milo by the lapels of hisexpensive suit. Milo’s words cut off in a strangled yelp as Dredyn slams him back against the side of the car. “You arrogant little shit,” Dredyn snarls inches from Milo’s face. “You think this is about me? Chase murdered my sister. He’ll do far worse to Mara given the chance. The Syndicate owns him. One wrong move and she’s gone too.”
“Get your hands off me!” Milo struggles, shoving at Dredyn.
“We’re trying to save your sister, you idiot,” I grit out, each word clipped. It’s one of the rare times I speak aloud, and Milo’s eyes snap to me in surprise at the harsh, unused sound of my voice. “Chase is not who you think he is. And if you let Mara marry him?—”
“She’s not marrying him today,” Milo interrupts, breath hitching as he tries to squirm free. “It’s just an engagement, and it’s what she wants. Now let me go, or I swear?—”
Talon chuckles. “What? You’ll call security on us? Daddy’s lapdogs already did that last night, remember?”
Milo’s gaze flicks between us, seething frustration all over his face. “You’re the ones who hurt her—terrorized her all semester. You three walked her like a damn dog yesterday!”
Dredyn’s arm presses harder against Milo’s collarbone. “Believe whatever helps you sleep at night, Black. But if you let her stay with him knowing what we just told you, her blood will be on your hands.”
Milo bares his teeth. “Go to hell, Steele.”
Dredyn’s lip curls, and for a terrifying second I think he might haul off and punch Milo right through the car door, but he doesn’t. With a disgusted grunt, he shoves Milo away. Milo staggers, catching himself in the side mirror.
Coughing, he hastily straightens his suit. His blue eyes—so like Mara’s, yet lacking all her warmth—cut back to us. “This conversation is over,” he says, trying for haughty but landing on shaken. “Stay out of my way. And stay the hell away from Mara. After tonight, you won’t get another chance to harass her.”
“If you care about your sister, open your eyes. Before it’s too late.”
Milo scoffs, cheeks burning. Without another word, he yanks open the town car’s door and ducks inside. The tires squeal as the car pulls away, carrying Milo off to his curated reality.
“He’s hopeless,” Talon continues bitterly. “Fucker’s brainwashed like the rest of them.”
“Maybe,” Dredyn says, “Or maybe he knows we’re right and can’t stomach it.”
I shake my head. Milo’s denial seemed pretty damn genuine to me. Either way, it’s out of our hands now. We tried.
Jaw tight, Dredyn stalks back toward the house. “Screw him. We don’t need him. We’ll handle this ourselves.”
We follow Dredyn inside. My head swims from exhaustion and the comedown of conflict. As Dredyn pulls the door closed behind us, something catches my eye on the floor. A crisp white envelope lies on the entryway table.
I pick it up, pulse pounding. Embossed on the back is a dark red wax seal depicting a dagger piercing an open book, a few drops of blood dripping from the blade.
The Syndicate.
My blood turns to ice. With unsteady fingers, I tear the envelope open. A thick cardstock invitation slides out, engraved in elegant gold script:
Election Night Gala
Black & Harrington Families
Special Announcement.
Tonight, 11 p.m.
A muscle ticks in Dredyn’s jaw as he reads over my shoulder. Talon lets out a low curse.
