A soft smile crests my lips. Lana knows me well.
The feed blinks, the precipitation thickening until the world becomes white and gray. My gaze drifts to the crucifix on the wall.
If there is a God, please take care of Lana. Protect her. I don’t care what happens to me. I’ll trade a thousand lifetimes to keep her safe.
A weight settles on my chest, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. I reach for my lighter, then stop, belatedly realizing I don’t have it anymore.
Because I gave it to her for protection. If I don’t make it out alive, she’ll have everything she needs to keep my enemies at bay.
“Easy there,” Rafe murmurs, his hand at my back. “Things aren’t hopeless. They never are.”
Something in his voice—pain or sorrow—draws my gaze to him.
“Whydoyou help us?” I echo Sebastian’s earlier question.
Decades. I’ve known him for decades, and he’s never revealed his story. Why would he help monsters who clearly weren’t destined for eternal salvation?
His gaze softens and flickers between Sofia and me. “There’s always a place for you here. And there’s always light even in the darkest night.”
Not answering my question, he pivots toward the door.
He pauses at the threshold.
“Atonement,” he says. “We all have something to atone for.”
Then he disappears.
Silence lingers, thick with sorrow and regret.
Someone whistles. A chair squeaks.
“Well, that was strange.” Sebastian shrugs, rises from his seat, and buttons his three-piece suit. “I’d ask you to translate, but from the look on your face, you have no clue either.”
He winks, cold amusement in his eyes, no doubt from sadistic pleasure at the impending showdown. “A few doctors are on the Irish mob payroll. I called them. They’ll direct stray people out of the way.”
Sebastian tips his fingers in a mock salute and strides out, leaving Sofia and me in silence.
“Well?” she asks, tucking a dark lock of hair behind her ear. “You okay? You got this?”
“Always,” I murmur. I glance at her and smile. “We Lestes always survive. But now…”
I stride back to the long table and stare at our options.
“We plan.”
Ten a.m. tomorrow. This all ends.
Chapter 56: THE ALLIANCE
Tristan shifts in hisseat and loosens his tie. He eyes the floral displays in front of him at Arcana & Bloom.
Scarlett is in the middle of swapping hydrangeas for peonies in time for spring.
The flowers smell too sweet—sickly sweet today.
“I could’ve chosen the place,” he mutters.
“Too girly?” I smirk.
