At first, she makes no attempts to take my hand, and I awkwardly start to pull away. At the last second, she takes it and offers me a smile I think is genuine.
“Pleasure to meet you, Evangeline. And congratulations on getting out of that shithole and managing to snag yourself two husbands,” she says.
I don’t know how to respond, so I just smile awkwardly.
“Let’s sit. Evangeline prepared dinner for us.” Zephyr gestures to the dining room table.
“Evangeline is a terrific chef. I should know, she lets me taste test everything,” Finnick says proudly as he takes a seat at a tiny table placed on top of the larger table. A special plate is made for him.
I watch with a tight knot in my stomach as Isabelle and Oziel settle into their seats, each placing a neatly folded napkin across their lap. Isabelle leans toward him, her lips brushing close to his ear as she murmurs something too soft for me to catch. He gives a single, deliberate nod before they both reach for their utensils. My pulse quickens.
Isabelle takes the first bite of the risotto, chewing fartoo slowly for my liking. Does that mean she hates it? Did I screw up our meeting before we even began?
Thankfully, my fears are soon put to rest when she looks up through her thick, dark lashes and smiles at me. “This is far better than the food our chefs make. Please teach our staff your ways. I fear I won’t be satisfied with their mediocre meals any longer.”
I let out a sigh of relief, finally relaxing.
Dinner runs smoothly as the room fills with small talk. Most of the questions are for Isabelle and me about Grym Hollow. It’s strange to talk about a place I lived my entire life, knowing I’ll never go back. I’ll always hold a special place in my heart for my first home. That’s where I had many wonderful years with my parents. But Niko and Zephyr are my future, and I can’t imagine being anywhere but here now.
After some time, we finish our meal, and the leftovers are quickly swept away, getting packaged up for the infirmary. “So,” Zephyr starts, eyes fixed on Oziel. “Shall we discuss the reason you’re here?”
“Ah, yes, that.” Oziel sips on a blood-red wine, glancing down at his wife. “It’s quite the revelation my wife discovered from the Nephilim my people took after the battle on the beach. A revelation that will change everything. We also discovered a new ability I believe is unique to my wife, but I’ll let that remain a mystery for a little longer.”
A hush settles over the table, the air thick with unspoken tension.
“And what revelation is that?” Niko’s fingers curl warmly around mine. On my other side, Zephyrclaims my free hand, the heat of his touch grounding me. Their presence is a comfort, yet beneath it all, a faint, uneasy current lingers, whispering that something is not quite right. I want to know what ability Isabelle has, but they are being tight-lipped about it.
“That is for my wife to tell,” Oziel says as everyone’s attention fixes on Isabelle.
The demon queen doesn’t waver under our stares. In fact, she sits up taller, as if used to commanding a room full of people. Perhaps she is. Her gaze drifts from person to person before landing on me. “I heard you were able to speak to a Nephilim.”
I nod. “That’s how we learned about the ancient well and where the Nephilim were hiding out.”
“And when you spoke to the Nephilim, it was as if you were pulled into its memory?”
“Yeah, I mean at first, I think we were speaking. But then I felt like I was a bystander in its memory, and the creature wasn’t happy about it.”
“No, they never are,” she says. “The Nephilim the demons captured was very reluctant to speak with me. It was difficult slipping into its mind, but I managed, albeit only for a short while. It was enough, though. The memory I stumbled upon was one I saw before. An intense battle. In all honesty, it was more of a bloodbath than anything. Mescos was fighting against the Nephilim, and watching the battle play out were two people.
“One of them was Gadreel,” Isabelle says. Both Niko and Zephyr tense at the name.
“Who is Gadreel?” I raise a brow, not wanting to be left out of the loop.
“Gadreel is the leader of the Nephilim,” Oziel explains. “He’s far more intelligent than the others. Has abilities they don’t have. He’s ruthless and incredibly dangerous.” He sounds more awed than nervous about Gadreel.
“And he wasn’t alone,” Isabelle adds, and my attention snaps back to her. “I couldn’t make out who the person was last time. Their back was to me, and I was preoccupied with a woman screaming at the unknown creature to stop. That was when the memory faded. But this time, I saw the man turn around. I saw his face. A familiar face.”
Something in my gut twists. A warning I already know I’ll regret ignoring. But I have to know. My voice is low, urgent. “Who did you see, Isabelle?”
Her eyes lock onto mine, unblinking, as if bracing for the blow she’s about to deliver. Her fingers tighten around her glass, and the faint tremor in her grip tells me she’s just as shaken, which only adds to my own nerves.
When she finally speaks, her voice is steady, but the words hit like a blade to the ribs.
“The creature that turned…” Her breath hitches. “It was The Guardian.”
The room seems to stop breathing. My pulse thunders in my ears, but Isabelle isn’t finished.
She swallows hard, her next confession dropping like a death knell.
