"Or setting up an ambush," Kayden counters flatly.
My gaze finds Eira. "Do you feel anything?"
She tilts her head, pale hair falling like a veil. "Death has been around since the bar. It's not closer here than anywhere else. But I can't predict it." Her eyes flick to me, heavy, deliberate, like she's trying to read more than I want her to.
I shake it off and keep moving with the others toward the central courtyard. Servers drift through the crowd with trays of drinks and bite-sized food. We each grab a glass—props as much as refreshment—while our eyes keep scanning.
And then I see him. Darius.
Center stage, speaking to a dazzling blond journalist who beams up at him like he invented charm. Darlene and Johnny flank him at a respectful distance, dressed formal but muted.
And Darius himself. Flawless, as always. Timeless elegance draped over him with perfection, every word, every tilt of his hand drawing admiration. The group around him leans in, feeding off his presence.
Then, as if on cue, his head turns. His eyes cut through the crowd and find me. It's precise and immediate, as if he knew exactly where I'd be.
His gaze drags down slowly, then climbs back up. His nostrils flare. The pause fractures his rhythm, though he recovers instantly, turning back to the journalist with seamless charm.
But I felt it.
"He saw us," I say under my breath.
Kayden leans closer, voice low and sharp. "You don't say. He practically swallowed you whole."
"Can you blame him, though?" Jace remarks, deadpan, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
Asher leans toward Donna, his voice low, meant only for us. "Did you get a chance to look at the deal?"
Donna swallows a mouthful of prosecco, then nods. "I did. Father practically begged me to be involved. And honestly?" Shehesitates. "It's generous. I went through it line by line—no small print, no hidden clauses. On paper, it's a very good deal for the town. I can see why Father's been walking on air since it landed in his lap."
"So we're… not supposed to stop the signing then?" Jace asks, brows lifted. "I mean, a good deal's a good deal, right?"
Kayden turns on him, sharp. "You sound like you're ready to sign up as his junior associate fund manager."
Jace glares back. "I would. Aside from his obsession with Sage, I haven't seen what's so wrong about Darius or his operation."
"How about the blood-trafficking business?" Donna cuts in, her tone pointed.
Jace exhales hard, doesn't answer.
"Oh, so that's acceptable because it's done to vampires?" Donna presses, not angry so much as caught in her own war with the thought.
Jace lifts his hands slightly. "I'm not saying it's not shady. But if their blood heals people, and he's putting down violent vampires in the process, how is that evil?"
The words hang. It's not just Jace thinking it.
Kayden's snarl breaks the quiet. "Why don't you walk over there and lick his ass directly, pup?"
I grab his arm. "Not here. Not now. We need to stay a team." My eyes plead with him:don't blow this.
His jaw grinds. He yanks free just enough to snatch a flute off a passing tray, shoving it back at the startled waiter. "Get me a real drink. Scotch. Neat. Not this bubbly shit." The poor guy stammers, nods, and flees.
I turn back to the others, my voice low. "That's the danger. Darius can afford to make good on every promise. He can buy loyalty, sink his claws into Briar Hollow until no one remembers the town without him."
Asher studies me, tone calm but weighted. "So he plays the long game. Wears us down. And in the end… gets you back this way? How does he think this will work?"
"He's thousands of years old." My throat tightens. "The long game is his strong suit. But what exactly he's playing for…" I shake my head. "I don't know."
The server returns with a full glass of scotch, which Kayden snatches up with a curt nod. He takes a long sip, eyes locked on Darius across the courtyard, narrowed to slits. "Doesn't matter how. He's not getting you. Period."
