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"They'd find us. The Easton name is on the verge of extinction. Without us, they don’t have a firstborn heir for our family lines."
"But Channing is a…"
"He's not a firstborn heir. Now I exist…” he trails off, clearly not ready to go there. “You’re the only Easton heir. Marcus’ son, your… your dad, he died…" I raise a brow, wondering how true that is, seeing as he thought his own father was dead until tonight. "It’s true, man. I’m sorry."
"My dad is a Danforth," I say, more to myself than him, because I know it’s a lie.
"You might need to talk to your mom about that." He lets out a weary sigh.
"Right. Fucking hell."
"We need to get out of here.”
"You fucking think?" I deadpan. “First, we need to figure out where the hell we are.”
He makes a nondescript noise in the back of his throat. "I think we're in Cade's basement. If you really listen, you can just about hear the music from the party."
"How long have we been down here?"
"A long time."
"And the party’s still going?"
"It's the night of the new moon. They'll party until sunrise and then some."
I have no intention of hanging around and waiting for Cade and his gang of loyal followers to find us and do whatever the fuck else they've got planned for us.
"There's only one door." Alex nods toward a set of stairs. "There's no fucking way they'll allow us just to walk out through it."
"Maybe not, but we've at least got to try."
And then when we’re free, I’m going straight to my uncle to get answers.
12
Mia
I wake with someone pressed up against my back. Fear steals my breath as I lie there, frozen in place. My bleary eyes strain against the light as I take in my surroundings. It’s a fairly plain room, light gray walls and darker gray curtains, but there’s a feminine touch in the pale gray and pink covers I’m under and the pink swirls painted around the mirror.
Glancing gingerly over my shoulder, I sigh with relief at the sight of Sasha lying there.
It’s not Cade.
I’m not in Cade’s room. Thank God.
I can’t quite remember how I got here, but I’ll take it over waking up in Cade’s bed any day.
“Ugh, what time is?” Sasha croaks, squinting up at me.
“Uh, it’s,” I turn to check the clock on the nightstand, “a little after nine.”
“I need water… and headache pills. And maybe some pancakes.”
I chuckle. “Some night, huh?” The words make me bristle as I remember watching Cade and his friends beat the crap out of Bexley. When they dragged him and Alex away, the two of them a bloody, barely conscious mess, I’d tried to go after them, but Sasha and Channing had marched me to the nearest keg and made me drink. One drink turned into two, and two turned into three, and before I knew it, the pit in my stomach had gone, replaced by a warm buzz.
Flipping onto my back, shoulder to shoulder with Sasha, I let out a small sigh. “What was that last night?”
“Caedes?”
