Page 123 of You’re So Vein

“Deal.” Beth sweeps me into her arms. I bury my head in her shoulder. She smells earthy and incense-y, a familiar, distinctly Beth scent. She smells like the friend I’ve always trusted with my heart.

I pull back before the tears start falling again. “Thank you. Do you want to join me for chai? I bet if we throw out those brownies, Papa has some snacks hidden in here somewhere.”

“I’d love to, but…” Beth swallows. “There’s something you should know.”

The way she says it makes my budding tears turn to ice. “The husker?”

“No. Well, we don’t know.” Beth says. “But first, Hannah is a Dhampir, isn’t she?”

I don’t answer. I can’t. I made a promise. But Beth knows me too well. She knows what my silence means.

“I’m not an idiot. I put it all together. Actually, that’s a lie. Mina put it together. That girl is far too good at sleuthing. Everyone in the coven knows, and we’ll keep it secret, obviously. I see now that some of the suspicious things Augustin did were because he was trying to protect Hannah. We all hate Augustin right now, so I don’t know if I should tell you this…” she pauses. “But Reginald and Hannah are missing, too.”

“What?”

She nods, her mouth a grim line. “Reginald was watching Hannah at Black Crag during the fete. But when Alaric and Winnie returned home, they weren’t there, and there are signs of a struggle. And that’s not the worst thing. Kael Morrigan is missing, too.”

No.

Dante’s warnings ring in my ears. Kael wasn’t at the fete, and that was hours ago. If he’s taken Hannah and Reginald, they could be anywhere by now. They could be—

I leap to my feet. “What are we doing? We have to find her.”

“I know. We’re all meeting at Black Crag to form a plan.”

“I’ll grab my coat.”

We step out into the driving rain and approach the door to my tiny house. I freeze, throwing an arm in front of Beth as a shadow moves at the corner of my vision. Vines spring from around my house and slam the shadow against the wall. CRACK. The wooden cladding splinters as the vines tighten around the intruder.

“Argh, what did you do to me?” a familiar voice cries.

Dante di Sangro.

He smiles that glittering smile down at me, but it’s strained as the vines tighten further. Fear blooms in my chest. Augustin never trusted Dante, and now Hannah is missing—

“I warned you not to lay a finger on her.”

A figure steps out of the trees, peacoat flapping dramatically around his long legs, twin hilts jutting from the crossed scabbards strapped to his back. Vines twist around his arms and forehead like a raiment born from the forest itself – thorns digging into pale skin, leaves slick with dew and blood. A treacherous curl has escaped its usual discipline, flopping over one flame-rimmed eye that burns with a light far too ancient, far too furious, to belong to any creature of civilisation.

My breath stutters.

Augustin.

But not the Augustin I know.

He moves like a predator, a wild god. His shoulders are set forwards, his body coiled, every muscle and bone and sinew straining towards a single purpose. The air around him vibrates with the promise of violence. His lips curl back in an inhuman snarl, revealing his fangs. His restraint is gone, his carefully orchestrated mask crumbled away.

A father whose child has been taken.

A monster with nothing left to lose.

Herne the Hunter.

His gaze sweeps over the back garden, ruthless and incandescent, and it passes over me like a blade tearing through my skin. My heart hammers against my ribs. Whoever stands between Augustin and getting Hannah back will not survive the encounter.

“I’m not here to hurt her,” Dante gasps out. “I’m trying to save both of you.”

“The rite of the Mora is too good for you.” Augustin steps closer, his hand tightening around Dante’s neck, the vines creeping around his face, squeezing his skull. “I will eviscerate you myself. Where is she?”