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“Who is that?” Steph asks, her voice echoing from the phone’s speaker. “What is going on, Eden?”
“I’m sorry, Steph. I’ll explain later,” I say and end the call, never taking my eyes from the imposter, whose face is an angry shade of red as the truth dawns on her.
She’s busted.
“Do not move, witch,” Erik says from behind me, proving he’s caught the gist of what’s happening here.
Not-Steph rolls her eyes, mumbles something about knowing this would be a waste of time, then disappears before our very eyes. And by disappears, I mean vanishes. She didn’t run away with super speed like a vampire. She was there one second, gone the next.
Like she fucking teleported, or something.
I stare at the empty spot where she stood for several beats, then slowly turn to face Erik. Leif is standing beside him, and I have no idea how much of that exchange he caught.
“Jesse is on his way here,” he says, sliding his phone into his pocket.
I try to nod, but the impact of what just happened hits me, buckling my knees. Strong arms fold around me gently before I hit the sand, holding me up as a gruff, accented voice tells me everything is going to be okay.
I know Erik means well, but his words ring false in my ears. This whole situation is beyond fucked up.
A witch gained access to Belloy Manor by masquerading as my friend. She could have killed the king, finishing what her kind started. She could have killed me at any moment.
Which would have killed Jesse. And she knows that because Jasmine told her I’m his mate.
Her face flashes behind my eyes, my mind replaying her expression when Jasmine let that little tidbit slip. It was filled with surprise, but not confusion. Because she already knew what my having a mate-bond with Jesse meant. And how she could use it to rid the world of the king’s heir.
“God damn it,” I mutter, pulling out of Erik’s arms to stand on my own two feet.
The hurt and fear drains out of me, leaving nothing but anger. Whoever that woman is, I will find her. And when I do…
There’s going to be hell to pay.
29
THAT’S QUITE THE PREDICAMENT
There it is. A picture of me in that cursed red bikini, wearing a goofy smile that matches Steph’s as we mug for the camera. The picture had been taken before the infamous nip-slip, when we first arrived at that pool party. Steph insisted on sharing it on her favorite social media site, saying we both looked amazing and no one had to know about what happened just a little while later.
As I scroll through her never-ending feed of photos, I realize how accurately the photos tell the story of our friendship. All the imposter had to do was study Steph’s page––which is visible for public consumption––and she was able to step right into her shoes. Literally.
My breath comes faster as I see Steph pictured in the exact outfits Not-Steph wore while she was here. Shirts, shorts, shoes…everything.
“Here. Drink this.”
I look up from my phone’s screen to see Jesse’s concerned expression as he holds out a glass of red wine. I motion for him to set it on the night stand, and he complies before sitting next to me. The mattress dips, and my body sways toward him as his arm curls around my back.
“We’re going to find her,” he says quietly as I continue to scroll through the pictures on Steph’s feed.
“Look at this,” I say as if he hadn’t spoken. “All of Steph’s favorite foods, drinks, hangout spots. The clothes she wears. Details of our friendship. It’s all here. That witch was able to become Steph just by studying her social media posts.”
“Modern technology,” he mutters. “There’s very little desire for privacy these days, and people are oblivious to how dangerous that can be.”
I lean into him, resting my cheek against his hard chest. “She got my phone somehow, Jesse. She changed Steph’s number in my contacts, then blocked Steph’s real number so she couldn’t call me. She also unfriended and blocked her on all our social media sites, and I didn’t even notice. The real Steph is confused and angry, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to explain all this to her.”
“You’re going to have to tell her the truth.”
I gasp, straightening to look at his face. My eyes search his, and he gives me a small nod.
“All of it?”
