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“Is everyone okay? Do I need to—” Dane started but broke off at Lucien’s head shake.
“Everyone is fine. No one got hurt, thanks to Lucien, Calder, and Baer,” Gio replied.
“I’m glad,” Clay sighed with relief.
“Gio, we’re so sorry that your family was put into harm’s way,” Dane added.
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“Why do I feel like we’re missing a big chunk of this story?” Grey asked carefully. “Such as the part with Gio and the rolling pin. And where was Gio’s family during this attack?”
Lucien might have cringed a little bit now. “They…might…have been helping us.”
“Are you shitting me?” Clay gasped.
Gio was on his feet in an instant, jumping in front of Lucien and Calder. “This isn’t their fault. You don’t know my family. We are not the type to just sit back and let other people fight our battles for us. The pestilents were on our property, putting our lives in danger. Of course we joined in the fight.”
Clay turned to look at Baer. “But your powers. The magic…”
Baer made a face, wincing as well. “Yeah, they totally saw everything.”
Clay staggered backward, falling into the empty desk chair that had been turned toward the center of the room. He scrubbed a hand over his shocked expression. “But the secret. We’re keeping the Weavers and magic a secret from the world.”
Gio shifted from one foot to the other, crossing his arms over his chest. “I think that’s totally wrong. The whole world needs to know about the pestilents and who you guys are. You’re risking your lives to save the rest of us. People need to be supporting you and cheering you on.”
Lucien grinned up at his man. It was getting far too easy to love everything about him.
“I agree, but what if people want to hurt them? Use their powers for their own means?” Cort offered. “Secrecy means keeping the Circle safe so they can fight the pestilents.”
Gio sighed and nodded. “That is true. There are some real selfish bastards out there.”
“But Grey can still wipe and modify memories, right?” Dane inquired.
They all looked over at Grey, who appeared to have recovered from his Baer and Wiley peep show. “Probably. How many people are we talking, Gio?”
With a nervous grin, Gio backpedaled and dropped on the arm of the love seat again. He shoved one hand through his unruly black hair, ruffling it a bit. “I don’t know the exact number off the top of my head. With my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, I’d say forty, maybe fiftyish people.”
A high-pitched, slightly hysterical bark of laughter escaped Grey, and he rocked backward, leaning heavily against the wall.
“Fuck it,” he announced, shaking his head.
“What?” Clay demanded.
“Fuck it. I’m not wiping that many memories. It’s too much. I’m exhausted just thinking about it, and we’ve still got to tackle the pestilents and set our Weaver free.”
“We had a long talk with Gio’s family after the fight. No one is going to say a word,” Calder quickly added. “We deleted videos from phones and everyone agreed to keep quiet to protect us.”
“Tossing a lot of dead pestilents into a bonfire is an amazing way to bond with a bunch of people,” Baer added.
Wiley chuckled. “Yes, I’m sure it didn’t hurt that you were letting people pet a lion or that you were giving camel rides until nearly two in the morning.”
Baer shrugged. “The kids loved it.”
“And it got you out of hauling corpses,” Lucien muttered.
Clay rubbed his face again before letting out a heavy sigh. “Fine. You’re right. At this stage of things, keeping our secret isn’t the highest priority. If Gio believes his family can protect our secret, I trust his judgment and them.”
“Thanks, Clay. My family and I are grateful for all that the Weavers are doing for us. We’re happy to help you any way we can.”
“That include your brother’s boat?” Baer asked. “Without your brother, of course. We can’t let him anywhere near this fight.”
Gio nodded. “It will. I think he’ll understand.”
“So, it’s true. The Weaver is being held on an island.” Cort moved farther into the room and dropped onto the edge of the bed next to Wiley, who had since left his mate’s lap.
“Yeah, and they’ve definitely got the advantage this time,” Baer grumbled as he pushed to his feet. He grabbed the edge of the small coffee table and pulled into the center of the room, then spread out the map they’d gotten of the area. He pointed to a small island in the middle of the Seewee Bay. “There. Only accessible by boat and there’s only one tiny wooden dock. It’s a decent-sized island. Not a lot of trees but some good brush cover. We’re going to be incredibly visible, both when we approach the island and when we make landfall.”
“Buildings?” Clay inquired.
“Only one. A big two-story vacation home. Lots of windows all around.”
