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“Well, I’m not running now. I’m asking for your help.” Another pause. “Please.”
Narcissa’s long fingernails tapped against her waist as she waited, thinking. I had no clue what she had to possibly fucking think about, but I kept my mouth shut. Starting a fight with the only witch I knew wasn’t going to help.
Even if she did screw us over.
“I’ve been thinking about your situation,” she said eventually. “It’s rare, indeed.”
“Have you heard of this before?” Lyra said, finally breaking her silence. “Have you heard of anyone grow cravings for… for blood?”
“No,” Narcissa answered quickly. “But no one else has been the key to the veil, and very few have tasted your blood and stepped through.”
“So, my blood has something to do with it, then? It’s not Alek?”
The way she said the words with hope made my knees weak. She would find some way to blame herself for this, as if I wasn’t the one wreaking havoc on the fucking city and craving her blood like a mythical creature from the fairytales.
Narcissa said solemnly, “We can’t know for sure, but I’d say that’s a good guess, child.”
“The veil is still not closed,” Wrath pushed. “But we did everything you asked.”
Narcissa’s eyes slid to him before she stepped closer, making the small interior feel even smaller. “Have you asked Lyra if she’s done all she was asked to do?”
All eyes slid to Lyra, and her cheeks turned red. She had said something in the forest with Marcus, something about…
The original goddess.
Something must have happened to her on the other side of that veil, too. Something this witch seemed to know about.
But Narcissa turned and made her way to the kitchen, leaving Lyra flushed behind her. “Tea, anyone?” she chimed, as if this were a mere casual visit.
“Tea?” I repeated. “We come here begging you for help and you’re offering tea?”
Narcissa laughed, but she kept her back facing us as she busied herself with the kettle. “You will accept whatever I give you, boy. And need I remind you of the position you are in? Perhaps you should think of that when you speak to me. I am the only one who can help you, after all.”
“So, you can help us?” Natalie asked, then grinned. “And tea sounds great, by the way.”
The three of us shot her a silent glare in the darkness. She merely shrugged.
Fucking Natalie.
“I can show you the way, yes, but it will be you who helps yourselves. Isn’t that right?”
I swallowed. Natalie moved to sit on one of the green velvet sofas that filled the enclosed walls. Wrath followed.
I stood frozen, though. Waiting. For what? I wasn’t sure. But I glanced at Lyra once. Twice. She dropped her head and followed the others, moving to sit on the mirroring sofa.
I waited a few seconds, took a few calming breaths, and followed.
Lyra sat on the far side of the sofa. Her black jeans covered her legs as she crossed one over the other, leaning as far away from me as possible as I took a seat on the opposite side.
She hated me. I fucking deserved that. I would spend every single day of my life making it up to her.
“Well,” Narcissa began, returning with the heated kettle and a few cups of tea, “it seems we have some things to discuss.” She turned to Natalie and Wrath. “There’s a beautiful garden out back. Perhaps you could give us some privacy?”
Wrath’s eyes slid to me, questioning. I gave him a quick nod. We didn’t have much of a choice, anyway. This needed to be done.
Whatever Narcissa required, we would give it to her.
“Sure,” Wrath said. “Let’s go, Nat.” Natalie hurried to finish filling her teacup before she stood and followed Wrath out the back door of the small cottage.
