Page 24 of Blood & Bedlam

“She’s not a spy,” I defend quickly. “I tasted her blood. I know that she has no memory of me outside of what she dreams.” The tension is thick in the room, and I itch to be done with all of this and get back to Reine.

“She thralled your beast,” Dasher points out. I go still. When the beast took full control, I lost my sense of self—I don’t recall parts of what transpired. His silver eyes are on his hands, ever the quiet oak to Juliette’s chaos. She squeezes his shoulder encouragingly, and it’s only when his eyes meet mine that the portal between us connects. He funnels the entire scene from his perspective into my mind.

Shame chokes me up when I see Kendra’s body fly against the Degas, splintering the wooden frame. Then again when Claire’s temple smacks into the golden liquor cart. A heavy exhale shakes me—even though this is painful, it’s a record of my sins. I hurt my family today, would have torn them apart.

If not for Reine.

I watch her call to the beast, a beacon lighthouse in the port of a raging storm of darkness, and like a moth to flame, he comes. He submits. He’s gentle. The creature locked inside up tight, the darkest part of the Blood for me, bowed to her. Would do anything to please her, to protect her. His mate. His star.

I swallow as the vision ends, and the silver glow of Dasher’s Dark Gift settles back within him.

“I can never expect you to forgive me for this. I made a vow not to hurt you, and I broke it. I’ll accept any punishments you bestow, but please know that I love you. I’m just …” The catch in my voice is embarrassing and audible, the crack in my chest heavy.

“Oh, Papa.” It’s Juliette who breaks first, crossing to me, wrapping me up in her arms. I’m flayed raw from his possession, from the revelation, from the relief and joy and grief thrashing through me. I’d take a knife to my chest and die the True Death if I could, if they asked it of me. I let my head fall to Juliette’s crown. A sob breaks through my chest.

“It’s her. I’m sure of it now.”

Juliette nods beneath me, and when the pressure of her body is joined by one more, then another, then another, I let their combined comfort hold me together. The Third of the Blood make themselves scarce as the girls and I melt into the Persian, holding on to one another as tears of anger and sadness and just the tiniest bit of joy leak from us. Time passes, but we don’t let the mark of the pendulum rush us.

“What are you going to do?” Cami asks quietly. I shake my head because, of all of them, she knows what this means. As the Heir of the Blood of my Blood, it’s a conversation we’ve had many times, the sacrifice of power—what it could mean to take a bonded mate.

“I don’t know.”

“First thing, we need to find out how this happened. Fake papers are a red flag, but whatever she showed you must have been compelling. I don’t doubt it, but, Papa … a mate? Right now …?” Fleur’s words trail off.

“There’s something clouding her aura. We need a witch to see past what I can’t,” Juliette says, but Cami isn’t having it.

“Absolutely not. Until we know how the hells Reine came to be here and how she ended up with those Italian pricks, no one is to know that she’s your mate. It’s too much leverage, especially as a human. Of all the creatures …” Cami disentangles herself from the pile as she speaks, then smooths her hair back, pulling herself together.

“There must be one witch you’re willing to trust with this?” Camille presses. I give her a pointed look, knowing exactly to whom she’s referring. I rub at the now smooth spot over my chest, one that once bore a brand to the most powerful witch I’ve ever known.

“I’ll request an audience with Cate.”

Fleur’s eyebrows arch. “Will she help?”

I don’t even need to think about it. Hecate is a kind, incredible goddess.

“She wouldn’t deny me. Not this. Cate knows what she means to me. However, there is one more thing, if you please …” I gently disentangle Juliette from my side and stand, smoothing over the shredded fabric barely holding my clothing together. The girls give me their attention, but there’s a wariness in their gazes. They won’t like it, but this is what needs to be done. “Not a word to Reine about the Bond. Not yet. Whatever Cate discovers is going to be heavy enough, and that’s a lot of trauma on a mortal mind at once.”

“That isn’t your choice to take away from her, and keeping her in the dark makes her vulnerable,” Claire says, crossing her arms. I nod my understanding.

“I know. That’s why I also need my four best girls to help protect her when I’m called away. Ordering a protective detail will draw even more attention. Will you help me?” I ask, and though I know they don’t approve, they’ll stand together for family. For me.

And, judging by the protective instinct rolling off Juliette and Claire in waves, they’ll stand for Reine too.

“Whatever you need,” Fleur says. The others assent.

All except Cami, whose posture is alert and guarded, even from me. As the others file out, Cami stands her ground. I rub my hand over the back of my neck as I wait for her to argue with me. The door hasn’t even swung shut before she starts.

“You can’t reject your mate,” she whispers softly. The switch from the anger I expected is jarring.

“I’m not rejecting her. I’m protecting her the only way we can right now.” My words sound stiff, because one look at Camille and I know she doesn’t believe me.

“You’ll need to feed. Fleur resisted her Bond with Kendra, and she nearly went feral. You’re too strong to abstain, Papa. We can’t control you if you get lost in the Blood. Tonight showed that.” There’s a plea in her voice, and I shake my head because, of anyone, I expected her to understand.

“I didn’t drink from the vein tonight, but the spilled blood brought me back. I can ask her for a few bags and dose on it to keep the urges at bay, at least until we know more.” There is reason in what I say, but the beast, once again caged, rattles the bars of its prison in protest. I only keep my careful control on him by not drinking straight from the source. The blood bank we own keeps most of the vampyrs in the city fed, though some still prefer feeders. But even those are heavily regulated to ensure safety for all involved.

For me, tapping a vein is a slippery slope into madness and darkness. There’s nothing to suggest that’ll be different with a mate.