After a torturously long meal, Mr. Whitethorn finished his last bite of beef and stood to address the table. His dark charcoal suit fit him to perfection.
Silence fell over the table. Everyone eagerly waited for the reason we’d been summoned tonight.
“Thank you all for coming, especially on such short notice.” His voice oozed with authority. “Over the past few days—” Here it was. He was about to announce that a demon had been released. But maybe he didn’t know who freed him.
“I’ve decided to run for mayor.”
My mouth fell open. I stopped white knuckling my napkin and leaned back in my chair.
“Mayor Thomas approached me a few weeks ago, letting me know he had no intention of running for re-election, and offered me his full support.”
Mr. Abbot tensed at the announcement. Something unreadable flared in his eyes. But Mr. Hale’s sinister smile was much more concerning.
Mr. Whitethorn continued, “I plan to announce my candidacy tomorrow, but I wanted to give you all the courtesy of letting you know before it went public. Tomorrow night, I’ll be throwing a gala to announce it, and I would appreciate it if you all attended.”
“Of course.” Mr. Hale interjected, breaking the silence with a bit too much eagerness.
“I’ve already called John, and he’s made a generous donation to my campaign fund.” Of course, our dad believed that writing a big, fat check was all it took, as if his duty ended there. He shifted his attention to us. “Now, what I need from you five is to please keep a low profile, and don’t become a news headline—at least until after the election.” He hardened his tone at the last part.
We nodded our heads in unison.
In a small town, anything could become a news headline. Literally anything.
The men excused themselves, following one another into the study to discuss business further. The rest of us sat at the table, picking at the desserts. The best part about family dinners was the food, and I’d been so riddled with anxiety that I barely tasted any of it. But that meant I had more room for dessert, and I made sure to try one of each.
Eli sipped on a glass of expensive scotch. He always made sure to have a drink in hand whenever he was forced to spend time with his father.
My phone vibrated on the table. A smile tugged at my lips as I read the message.
Grey: Just making sure you’re not dead in the basement.
Me: Yep, this is my ghost texting you. Prepare to be haunted for the rest of your life.
Grey: I don’t think you’d be able to haunt someone if you tried. You’re more like Casper the friendly ghost.
Me: Rude.
Grey: The book you’re looking for is bound in black leather, with gold initials, V.D., embossed in the bottom right corner.
“Lyra.” Cal called my name.
“What?” I jumped, slipping my phone into my purse.
“Are you going to finish that?” Cal reached across the table. I stuck my fork into the remaining slice of pie and shoved the entire piece into my mouth. Pie filling spilled from the corners of my lips as I smiled at him.
“Gross,” Emory said beside me.
Cal rolled his eyes and grabbed the last piece of carrot cake, dumping it onto his plate. “Mayor Whitethorn does have a certain ring to it.” Cal said around a mouthful of cake.
“Just another form of control,” Eli mumbled into his glass. I knew he saw the excitement on his father’s face, and for the first time, I wondered what more power would mean for our families. Mr. Whitethorn had always been frightening, but after finding Grey trapped in the basement, I wondered if he might be a monster dressed in a finely tailored suit.
“They treat us like dogs. Giving us commands and expecting us to follow them blindly.” Eli said. The whites of his knuckles were visible as he finished off his drink.
“Dude, they just want what’s best for us,” Cal said defensively.
Eli stood and walked to the bar cart to pour himself another drink. He let the comment go because we all knew Cal was only talking about his own father.
My purse buzzed, and I didn’t have to see the text to know Grey was asking about the book again. I broke out into a cold sweat as I scanned the room. The men had moved outside to smoke cigars, giving me a small window to look for the spellbook.
