“She would be held somewhere near the coliseum,” Leela said from the couch, her eyes closed as she recovered from the bullet wound she’d endured.
Lara sat on the ground beside her, sweating as she tried to help expedite the Seraphim’s healing. While the rune Vera had created allowed Hydraian gifts to work on Leela, it seemed there was still some natural resistance. Or perhaps it was a result of runes canceling each other out.
Stas didn’t understand how all that enchantment worked yet. Mostly because her brother had kept her in the dark for months on end rather than using their time together to bring her up to speed.
Yeah, Stas wasn’t bitter at all.
Sure, she was being a brat. But the asshole had deserved it and far worse.
She’d undergone quite a few negative experiences while he’d kept the truth from her. Some of his reasons were legit. That didn’t mean she was anywhere near forgiving him for the hell she’d gone through as a result of his choices.
“And there’s no way to enter the islands without permission,” Leela continued, her voice hoarse and softer than normal. “The wards will kill you.”
“I thought they wanted to meet with me?” Astasiya replied.
“You, yes. Everyone else, no.” She shivered as Lara touched her forehead, her body stiffening on the couch.
“That’s not an option,” Balthazar said from where he leaned against the wall.
He’d been abnormally quiet after settling Jayson onto the chair adjacent to the couch. He was still passed out from the bullet to his head, Lara having focused on Leela first. Luc—who stood beside Balthazar—had said Leela needed to recover first because her skills would be needed.
Stas agreed with that decision. “Leela and Vera could come with me, right?” Assuming Vera returned from wherever she’d misted off to. She’d disappeared almost as soon as she’d finished the rune on Leela’s arm, saying nothing about her intended destination. She seemed to do that a lot.
Balthazar shook his head. “It’s not a viable plan.”
“Do you have a better one?” Stas countered, irritated.
His brown eyes smoldered with an intensity she’d never before seen in him. “I want Lizzie back, too. Don’t treat me like an enemy, Stas. We’re on the same side.”
“Then give me a better idea.” It would be more productive than turning down the only plans she could think up.
“When I discover one, I’ll share it,” he replied. His tone was one she’d never heard him use. Yet the authority in his voice suited him in his Elder position.
Although, she didn’t much care for his response. The longer they debated this, the more likely Lizzie would be hurt. And that outcome was unacceptable to Stas.
He’s right, Aya, Issac whispered into her mind. Going to the council won’t help anything. We need a strategy.
That could take days to come up with, Issac.
Look at Lucian, love, he encouraged her. He’s running through scenarios in his head. That’s why he’s so silent. Give him a few minutes to come up with an alternative. He’ll tell us if you going to the Seraphim is the only viable plan or not.
She knew he was right, that her mind had jumped to a rash conclusion, but she couldn’t think of any other alternative. The Seraphim had taken her best friend. Gabriel had confirmed it by telling them about Skye’s prophecy and her ties to the Fates.
Stas ran her fingers through her hair, frustrated. I feel helpless.
I know.
I hate this feeling.
I know, Issac repeated, kissing her temple. We’ll figure this out.
She turned into him, her gaze finding his sapphire irises and holding on for dear life. “How do you manage to remain so calm?” The words were soft, meant only for him. But she knew the rest of the room heard her.
“Practice,” he whispered, pressing his lips to hers. “And trust in those around me to determine a solution.”
Trust wasn’t Stas’s problem. Concern was her issue. What if we don’t get there in time?
As you age, you’ll learn that time is relative. He cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her bottom lip. The Seraphim took Elizabeth for a reason. If they wanted her dead, they would have killed her rather than going through the effort of kidnapping her.
