My stomach lurches as she flips it open. The pages are covered in dense writing and disturbing diagrams.
“He’s not just after control of the vampires,” Isabella continues. “The Blood Assembly is just the first step. He plans to infiltrate and take over the witch leadership, too. He’s already powerful enough to challenge your strongest mages.”
“That’s impossible,” Thaddeus scoffs, but I notice he’s leaning away from the book.
“Is it?” Isabella’s voice is sharp. “How do you think he managed to capture Evelyn Blackwood, one of your most powerful sisters? Or break through Arabella’s wards? He’s been studying the dark arts since before most of you were born.”
Dad picks up the journal, his face growing pale as he reads. “He wants to…farm us? Like cattle?”
“Once he controls both councils, yes. He’ll round up the witches, keep them in specialized facilities. Harvest their blood systematically.” Isabella’s voice cracks. “The facilities are already built.”
“We’d never allow—” Zephyra starts, but Isabella cuts her off.
“You won’t have a choice. He’s moving fast now. Anyone he sees as a threat will be eliminated immediately.” Her eyes fix on our family. “The Blackwoods are at the top of his list. Especially after what happened with Mia. He knows what she’s capable of.”
My heart pounds. “When?”
“Soon. Within days.” Isabella straightens.
The murmurs that simmer around me are tight with anger. With fear.
“This is unbelievable,” someone whispers.
“Perhaps,” Isabella says. “But it’s true.”
“So, why should we work with you?” I finally say. “Even if this is true, why should we bring you on board instead of sending youback to fend for yourself? We don’t need you.” There’s a mutter of agreement from the others.
“Because,” Isabella looks over at Mom and Dad and then back at me. “I know where he’s keeping your grandmother.”
11
Chapter 11
Marcus
IwatchKaraspeakingtothe others, making plans that sound wild and reckless. She’s going to get herself killed if she keeps taking these risks. The thought hits me with unexpected force.
“I can handle myself.”Her voice cuts through my mind, sharp and defensive.
“Can you? Because rushing in without backup hasn’t worked out well so far.”
I know I don’t need to remind her of what happened the last time she tried something dangerous.
Stepping away from the group gathered around the table where Lucien’s book is displayed, she slides past me.
“Keep out of my head,” she says beneath her breath.
The connection between us pulses stronger when she’s angry. I catch fragments of her thoughts – worry for her grandmother, determination to prove herself, frustration at being questioned. The force of her emotions crashes over me like a wave.
“We need to talk.” I gesture to the study. “Now.”
She hesitates, glancing at the others.“I don’t have time for this.”
“Make time.” I set my jaw, making it clear that I’m not going to back down on this.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Her nostrils flare. “Fine. Five minutes. And then you back the hell off.” She turns on her heel and stalks away.
Her siblings and the others are busy strategizing across the room. No one notices as I follow her into the study, closing the door behind us. The space is smaller than I expected, forcing us into closer proximity than either of us is comfortable with.
