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“Which means it’s probably not them,” I say, nodding slowly. “I’m sure they would’ve suggested a deserted forest at midnight over a crowded pier in the light of day.”
“Who else could it be?” he asks, his frustration obvious at not being able to figure this out.
Hell, I’m frustrated, too.
“I don’t know,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and widening my stance, “but we’re about to find out.”
42
THE STRANGERS
After a long, drawn out discussion leaving us on opposite sides of the matter, Jesse and I decide that I will traverse the Santa Monica pier alone, but he and Erik will be within vampire earshot to intervene if something bad happens. I insisted I could handle it on my own, but in true soulmate fashion, he refused to allow me to put myself in any kind of danger. So, this is our compromise.
Nerves ripple across my skin as I make my way down the pier. There are plenty of people around, but it’s not as crowded as I assumed it would be. My eyes scan back and forth, looking for the person I’m supposed to meet. I wasn’t given any information on how to recognize them, so I assume they’ll just find me.
I stop walking as something twists in my gut. My head swivels back and forth, searching the faces of those nearby. Someone is watching me. I can feel it, but I don’t meet any eyes as tourists and locals pass by.
My brow furrows as I continue to look around. Something isn’t right, here.
Then it hits me––no one is looking at me.
People pass as if I’m not standing here. As if I’m…invisible.
I know I didn’t cast a spell to hide myself, and I don’t sense any magic at all that would hide my presence. Yet, here I stand, watching as groups of people pass by without meeting my gaze or acknowledging me at all.
“Hey,” I say when a young couple passes by, hand-in-hand.
And just as I expect, they don’t react.
And all the while, I still have that feeling in my gut of being watched. What in the hell is going on here?
Then, I see them, and I freeze. An older couple, their hands clasped between them, walking straight toward me. And they’re both watching me intently like they’re waiting for me to have some sort of undesirable reaction to them.
“Eden,” the woman breathes as they shuffle to a stop in front of me.
“Who are you?” I ask once I finally find my voice.
“It doesn’t matter,” the man says. “We’re here to warn you.”
“Warn me of what?” I ask, frustration seeping into my tone. “What is this all about? Is it just about the prophecy? Or is there more?”
“You can’t trust anyone,” the woman says. “You need to vacate your seat on the council. Cut yourself off from the witch community, altogether. Please, Eden. You need to listen to us.”
“I don’t even know who you are,” I say, desperation making my voice an octave higher than normal. “Just tell me what you’re trying to protect me from and why you’re so invested.”
“We can’t do that,” the man says, and I can see the regret brimming in his eyes.
“Do you know what the prophecy says?” I ask, and they both stiffen. “You do. Please, just tell me, and I won’t have any reason to dig into it further with the council.”
“It’s dangerous for you to know,” the woman says, her voice somber.
“I don’t care how dangerous it is,” I shout, then flinch. Looking around, I see no eyes pointed in our direction. Still invisible, then. Tightening my jaw, I go on. “I can handle whatever repercussions there may be. I’m a Grundelier witch and a vampire. I have the king of the vampires as a mate and my best friend is the leader of the witch council. I couldn’t be safer. Please, just tell me something. Anything at all.”
The man seems to tense, looking to his left. Exhaling audibly, he turns his head toward the woman and whispers, “We’re out of time. We need to go.”
“No,” I grit out, my hand snapping forward to grip the woman’s wrist.
As soon as my skin touches hers, dizziness overcomes me, making me sway a bit. I tighten my grip when she tries to pull away, and a familiar scent wafts up my nostrils.
