“Why?” I rise to my feet.
“Because I can help you.” The desperation in his voice is unmistakable.
I pause, staring down at my pitiful excuse for family. Don doesn’t deserve my forgiveness. And yet, a small, weak part of me wants to believe he’s sorry.
“The guards are here,” Isolde tells me. “Should I let them in?”
“No, Leigh, please, don’t go,” Don beseeches. More tears fall freely down his cheeks.
More of mine threaten to fall, too.
I glare at him. “You thought peace could be secured with lies, deception, and murder, but that wasn’t your first mistake. Now, you will remain here until the end of your days, going over all your crimes, starting with my mother, and ending with me.” I watch him shiver, and then say, “Goodbye.”
The sun setsas Jaxson and I leave the occultist shop filled with black market relics disguised as a condemned bakery in the Burned-Over District. The fading light casts an ominous glow on the weathered exterior. We almost have everything we need to summon the Balam daemon. I glance at the list on my phone to see what’s left to gather.
18 black candles blessed under a full moon and rubbed in minotaur lard ?
Chalk ?
Matches(which we don’t need, thanks to Jaxson)?
Cup of salt ?
Blood Offering
Protection charm or Sunstone Bullets
The summoning spell ?
“What are we missing?” Jaxson adjusts the heavy box in his arms.
Through my cat-eye sunglasses, I peer at the veins straining in his forearms. “The blood offering and the protection charm. Unless you think you can get sunstone bullets?”
“Soter’s been counting the inventory at the precinct. If we take them, he’ll have questions,” Jax says.
“I’d rather not get you into trouble.”
He nods. “You said you can handle the charm, right? We don’t have to buy anything?”
“Yes, I can.” Despite the confidence in my voice, uncertainty gnaws at my insides.
Fortunately, all the herbal ingredients we need for the protection charm are stored in my mom’s apothecary at home. She’s inevitably still at work, despite the hour. And the spare key still hidden under the mat—a habit I once found unsafe but now feels like a lifeline. Accessing them won’t be a problem. Jaxson initially argued that we don’t need the charm, insisting that Balam lacks Harborym’s notorious violent streak. But knowing what it did to Vane and Vyvyan, I refuse to gamble with Jaxson’s life. Caution is a small price for the safety of those I hold dear.
“Okay, let’s go,” Jax says.
“Let’s drop those off first.” I gesture with my chin at the candles.
“Good thinking, sunshine.”
I smile wickedly, and Jax returns my grin with smoldering eyes. The kiss we shared the other night was a tantalizing preview, and I’m desperate for more. I crave to have his lips devouring mine, his hands exploring every inch of my body, igniting a firestorm. More than kissing, I long to feel his skin against mine. Creating new, erotic memories with Jax will surely obliterate any lingering thoughts of Vane. I’ll be able to return to the Nest unbothered.
We leave the daemon-raising supplies inside a cobweb-infested crypt at Tsilah Cemetery, surrounded by the random belongings of an extinct Epsilon bloodline. We will return before midnight to prepare for the ritual. I haven’t ruled out Alden, or one of his entourages, as a suspect.
Despite his flirtatious behavior at the club, I’m unconvinced the wolves have truly abandoned their hatred for vampires. Iknow when people are messing with me, and Alden’s actions feel insincere, as if he were acting.
As we approach Mom’s house, laughter spills into the street, mingling with the soft instrumental music inside. Is Mom home? I texted her earlier telling her I planned to stop by, but she had not replied. Her silence, juxtaposed with the liveliness inside her house, has my phone resembling a dead weight in my pocket.
Jax faces me. His brows furrow. “Sounds like a party.”
