“What about location spells?” Alistair asks. “Or transportation charms. If someone gets a hold of your witch?—”
“They won’t,” I say, my voice tight. “Hyacinth knows how to avoid detection.”
“Okay,” Celine says. “Say you’re right and they never find us. We can’t hide forever. Your food supply isn’t endless, and we need to get home.”
Frustration curls in my gut.
She’s right. And I don’t like it.
I never should have allowed myself to get sucked into this blood feud between her and her father. When S’lach approached me, the job sounded simple: psychological warfare followed by an assassination. I didn’t intend to sign my own death sentence.
“Do you have weapons here?” Luca asks.
“Why?” I shoot him a hard look. “So you can kill me? It won’t do you any good.”
The basilisk hates me. Like most monster shifters, he was born and bred to loathe veydran. I can’t even blame him for it. It’s easier to bite the puppet that guards you than the unseen hand pulling the strings.
He pushes up from the table, fists clenched. “I don’t need weapons to kill you.”
“Perhaps.” I study the wood grain calmly, then raise my eyes to meet his. “You do need me to get off this realm, though.”
A muscle in Luca’s cheek ticks, and he curses.
And he’s not the only one staring at me. Malach’s green eyes are sharper than flint. I tilt my head and stare right back. His expression is potent—a quiet, impenetrable loathing that sucks all the air out of the room and goes deeper than the arena.
“Tricking the portal is our main issue,” Ciprian says, ignoring our tense standoff. “We can sneak or fight our way there, but if it spits Luca out, there’s no point.”
“What about a spell?” Celine asks. “If the portal is enchanted to block unbound monsters, can’t we use similar magic to disguise Luca?”
I frown. “I won’t put Hyacinth at risk.”
“Do you want her to live the rest of her life in this place?” Celine asks gently. “We could take her with us and help her create a good life on Earth. A supernatural prison is no place for a teenager, Riven.”
She’s judging me. They all are. But they don’t understand, and they never will.
My anger overflows before I can choke it down. “Did the mansion make your abuse easier to swallow?” I demand. “I’m sure you were thinking about what a wonderful environment you lived in while he beat you black and blue.”
“Don’t forget bloody.” Celine throws her arm out to hold Malach back. “I’m not trying to antagonize or manipulate you; I know you want to protect her. And despite what you think of me, I would never want to see a child hurt.”
I dip my chin stiffly. “I apologize.”
“That,” Ciprian says to the room at large, “was the worst apology I’ve ever heard.” He leans lazily against the glass wall—the picture of ease. It’s an act. The murder in his black eyes is impossible to miss.
Perhaps I overreacted. I don’t think Celine is capable of the cruelty that scarred her childhood, but keeping Hyacinth safe is the only promise I’ve ever made that I’ve successfully kept. Failing nowis unthinkable.
“We could call for backup,” Alistair says. “I’m assuming there’s a way to communicate off realm. There must be with all the blood tourists.”
I nod slowly. “It would require sneaking into the arena.”
Celine frowns. “I don’t want to put anyone else at risk. Any backup we call would have to come here to free us. That would get messy.”
“My family will be searching for me,” Ciprian says. “Sheena will have raised the alarm by now. If I contacted them?—”
“Then they would come immediately, and someone might not make it back home,” Celine interrupts him. “Could you live with that? Because I’m not sure I could. Your family is already grieving, Ciprian.”
His face falls, and he glances at his feet. “It’s an option,” he says firmly. “One we can’t rule out. They’re powerful.”
My belly twists. If I hadn’t taken this job, would any of this have happened?
