With that, he slipped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him, leaving the dark witches to their work, hoping like hell they didn’t blow each other up.
Chapter Ten
Fuming didn’t evenbeginto cover it.
Jaci was ready to explode.
She had nothing against Isabelle specifically—the witch had always been decent to her, if a bit distant.
But Gabriel?
How the hell could he just spring this on her?
Hellfire simmered inside, but she tamped it down, forcing a bright smile.
“Tea?” she asked Isabelle. Her voice was way too high, way too tense.
Not that she could’ve fooled an empathic witch, anyway. Isabelle would’ve sensed her feelings the moment she walked into the apartment.
“He didn’t tell you he asked me to come, did he?” Isabelle asked.
“Nope.” Jaci put the kettle on, then got out two mugs. Honey. Cream. Lemon wedges. The ritual calmed her in ways the crazy-making vampire most certainly didnot. “Coward,” she muttered softly, but of course the elder witch heard.
She probably heardeverything. Probably had eyes in the back of her head, too.
“Gabriel is no coward,” Isabelle said. “But heiscomplicated. All the Redthorne vampires are, of course. But the youngest… He carries a lot of guilt. Shame. He’s reckless and impulsive on the best of days, and even when his heart’s in the right place, it’s not always easy for him to express himself.”
Jaci bit back a laugh. Gabriel had no problemexpressinghimself. Shutting the fuck up and listening? That was another story.
But no matter how badly she wanted to throw that vampire right under the bus, she couldn’t. Isabelle was absolutely right. Gabriel, for all his faults and issues,wascomplicated. And all the impossibly tangled mess of him stemmed from a world of pain and suffering. She’d figured that much out within three minutes of speaking to him at Bloodbath, long before he told her that gruesome story about his father and his poor pet goat.
And that was justonestory in an entire lifetime of them.
Augustus Redthorne was a true monster. He and Jaci’s mother would probably get along famously. And that, more than anything, softened her heart to Gabriel.
She knew as well as he did what it felt like to be brutalized and rejected by the very people who were supposed to protect you. Supposed to love you. How it broke you inside, turned you into a person who could never fully trust, who held their breath through all the good times, waiting for the bomb to detonate. Waiting for the day everyone in their life turned their backs and walked away.
Or worse.
Once the tea was ready, Jaci assembled everything onto a silver tray, then carried it out to the table where she and Gabriel had shared empanadas and way too many confessions.
Isabelle added a splash of cream to her tea and sipped, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Did you create this blend yourself? It’s wonderful.”
“Yes, thank you. I’m not big on florals in my tea, but I find with the black blends, the vanilla bean balances out the lavender and rose nicely.”
“It really does.” Isabelle nodded appreciatively, and they enjoyed a few moments of tea and blissful silence. Jaci could almost pretend this was a normal Sunday night—closing out the weekend with a friend, sharing a cup of tea, talking about magic and spellcraft. About anything, really.
But Jaciwasn’tnormal, just like Gabriel had told her. And she never would be.
Finally, the elder witch set down her mug, folded her hands in her lap, and said, “I’m not one for small talk, nor for beating around the bush. May I speak plainly?”
“Please do.”
“Gabriel told me what you are, Jacinda. Your origins.”
Jaci nodded, grateful for the note of compassion in the woman’s tone. “I figured as much.”
“I suspected something the night I questioned you at Bloodbath—I sensed a darkness around you, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. You were actively shielding it from me.”
