She didn’t elaborate, and she didn’t need to. We knew what that meant. Sebastian was polished, diplomatic, and endlessly patient, but also utterly ruthless when the situation demanded it. If he had “handled” someone, it meant a clean death. Merciful by Lucian’s standards, but final nonetheless, which was all Mrs. Wentzel and Addison required.
“The boy deserves to know how to protect himself. We’ll teach him. But not—” Cas paused, carefully selecting his words in the way he always did when approaching dangerous territory. “Not aswewere taught.”
“Knowing your father’s methods, I appreciate that. My grandson has known enough needless suffering to last a lifetime.”
I studied her carefully, seeing beyond the comfortable maternal figure she presented to the world. The way she handled knives with casual mastery. The assessing calculation in her eyes whenever strangers entered her domain. The fact that Lucian, who trusted no one, allowed her complete autonomy here.
And enjoys her roast duck, apparently.
“Now, I believe some chocolate would do Lady Seri good. Always a comfort after a fright.”
With practiced efficiency, she assembled a tray of snacks. Sliced meats, cheeses, crackers, strawberries and a tower of the exact chocolate chunk cookies I favored above all others. Not many knew that, but Mrs. Wentzel noticed things, remembered them.
Just as she had noticed when her grandson needed her, even when everyone else had failed him.
“This will help her regain her strength,” she said, handing the laden tray to Cas. “She may not have been physically injured, but fear drains the body just as effectively.”
As we turned to leave, I paused at the threshold.
“Mrs. Wentzel?”
She looked up from where she’d resumed her kneading, eyebrows raised in question.
“We’ll be careful with him,” I promised, knowing she’d understand what I meant.
Not just about physical training, but about the inevitable hardening that came with learning to fight monsters, both the literal and metaphorical kind.
As we made our way toward the hot tub, we could hear Zane serenading our beloved with “Die With a Smile.” I shook my head with a little smirk. He might be a red-headed gremlin, but the fucker sure could sing.
“We don’t know how to train someone gently,” Cas said so low that only dhampir hearing could catch it.
“Then we’ll learn. We’ll train him to be strong. Strong enough to break what needs breaking.”
“But not to breakhim,” Cas added. “Not like Father did to us.”
I nodded. Some cycles were meant to be broken.
24. Act of Treason
Amabel
I leaned against the kitchen counter, forcing myself to accept the fact that Eluned was on her way to Evermere, where the Cimmerians would either capture her or kill her.
If she was taken prisoner, I needed to free her quickly, before she could spill any of our secrets. She had always been the weak link in that regard, too emotional, too quick to lash out with words as well as magic.
If they killed her…
A small, cold part of me acknowledged that her death would be regrettable. She was my twin, after all. Still, not entirely unexpected given her recklessness. And there was nothing I could do about it except mitigate the damage to our plans.
“Aight, whatcha come up with?” Foster asked as he stomped back into the kitchen. “How we getting Crazy Ass back?”
“If you’re so concerned about her, why don’t you go to Evermere and look for her?” I snapped, turning to face him fully. “You’re the big, strong wolf shifter. Surely you could manage a rescue mission.”
“Your mother ordered me to stay here.” His expression hardened. “I don’t disobey her direct orders anymore than you do.”
“Really?” I studied him, trying to discern his true motives. Foster Collins had always been an enigma. Loyal, but with an agenda of his own that I hadn’t been able to suss out. “Why do you care so much about this, anyway? Is El reallythatgood in bed?”
“Pure self-preservation, witchling. If your sister gets captured and talks, we’reallin danger. Including me. So what is the plan?”
