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He shared my opinion, which made me feel uncomfortable. I immediately pushed that feeling away with all my might, but the tingling in my stomach returned, and I couldn't take my eyes off him.

Inwardly, I cursed my hormone-driven body.

The dance. That miserable dance was to blame for this predicament.

“Don't explain it to me.”

Bayla sounded genuinely desperate, and I finally gave up mistrusting her. She wasn't one of us, but apparently, the Quatura didn't believe her. For whatever reason...

These paranoid women made everything in this town more complicated and found a new problem for every solution.

Larissa's gaze shot up from the floor, her eyes sparkling playfully. “I have an idea!”

“Great,” Miles said dryly. “That can only backfire.”

Miles pushed the massive curtains aside as if looking for something, but finally sat down in one of the windows and crossed his outstretched legs as he leaned against the stone window jamb.

I swallowed as I caught myself staring at the spot where his black shirt collar parted. His Adam's apple, sharp and pointed...

Don't stare. Concentrate on the others...

“No, guys, really.” Larissa turned to Bayla. “The situation couldn't be better.”

“You seem to be forgetting that the Quatura are holding my mother captive.”

Larissa crossed her arms over her chest. “And you seem to be forgetting that your mother threatened me with a fucking shotgun last time.”

What?

“What?” Julie blurted out.

“What?” Miles laughed.

If that was true, then Bayla's mother seemed to be a typical Quatura.

If a Ruisangor showed up at my doorstep, I would also point my father's hunting rifle at him. Only I would have every reason to do so.

A grin flitted across my lips because the idea of threatening Miles with a shotgun was more than satisfying. He would never dare to even look at me again. Especially if I loaded it with silver bullets that I had previously soaked in vervain.

Suddenly, Miles looked directly at my cabinet.

My heart stopped.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Even though he probably didn't see anything, his gaze fell right on the crack I was peeking through.

I jerked back.

“It's complicated between me and Ms. Adams,” Larissa said with a shrug, and Miles finally looked away from my cabinet.

“God, Larissa. She's my mother,” Bayla hissed, and even I wondered what Larissa had done wrong in California over the past few years if Bayla's mother – according to the Quatura, a traitor who was now actually imprisoned by these lunatics for something she probably hadn't even done – was threatening her with a gun.

Why was I even surprised that all these people were now in trouble?

Ms. Adams should never have come to Blairville if she knew her record wasn't clean.

“I know. But can we please get away from your mother?” Larissa waved her arms desperately in the air. “This is about you.” Everyone fell silent, and Larissa continued. “You're right where we haven't looked yet.” More silence. Heavy silence. “God, guys, Alarik's house!”