Page 119 of The Immortal’s Mark

Every eye swings to us.

“Henry,” Lucas greets, straightening and stepping away from the table to clasp the warlock’s hand. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“As am I,” Henry replies.

The others take turns calling out their greetings, and Henry returns them.

The warlock is so different here. In Greece, he was stoic and strictly business during our training. Not unkind, just distant. Professional.

Now, he’s cordial. Easy going. It’s like he’s another person.

Maybe it’s because he isn’t my trainer anymore, and the Immortals aren’t breathing down his neck.

“Did the Council give you instructions for how they would like us to proceed tonight?” my mother asks, interrupting the niceties.

She doesn’t look at me. Not even a glance. Her focus stays on Henry. I’m a ghost in the doorway.

“No. I’m only here to report back on the evening’s events,” Henry replies with a deferential nod. “Think of me as a fly on the wall.”

Some of the tension leaves my mother’s shoulders. “Good. You can monitor the situation from the surveillance van with Paige. She’s savvy with technology, but we could use another pair of eyes in case something goes awry.”

“What?” The word bursts out of me before I can stop them. “Paige is still going?”

I thought Lucas would change his mind about including his daughter after hearing my mother’s concerns.

My mother ignores me.

“Paige and Lola are currently double-checking the van’s equipment,” she tells Henry. “You should join them. They’re in the garage.”

“Of course.” Henry shoots me an apologetic glance before he leaves.

A pulse of unfairness punches through my chest so hard it hurts.

Suddenly, Gregory is at my side.

“Come.” His hand touches my elbow. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Too furious to do anything but comply, I spin on my heel and stalk out of the study. Gregory’s silent steps follow.

I make it to the kitchen before I finally whirl on him.

“Seriously?” My voice comes out sharp. “Paige is allowed to go tonight?”

Gregory doesn’t blink. “It appears so.”

“That is bullshit.”

“Her father is permitting it,” he says, as if that explains everything.

It doesn’t.

“Then why is my mom still choosing to be a ridiculous, overbearing dictator?”

My mother’s voice carries down the hallway, “Because, unlike Paige, you are a target for Adir.”

I stiffen and turn.

Jennifer and Alex enter the kitchen.