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29
MIA
When the knock comes on the door sometime later, it takes us all a moment to stir. Jason is breathing warmly against my neck, one arm draped over my hip, Sindri’s head is resting on my thigh, Emrys’ forehead touches mine, and Ashton’s fingers are tangled in my hair.
I don’t want to move. Not sure I can. I’ve been drifting in and out of sleep, lulled by their touch, their magic that’s weaving a net around me, inside of me. It’s as if I’m hibernating, waiting for the process to end—not for the earth to wake up and bloom but for the magic to finish weaving and rising. It’s like waiting for the birth of something beautiful.
But the knock comes again.
“Open the door!” a familiar voice says. “It’s me, Percy.”
It sounds like him and I open an eye to see Ashton rubbing at his eyes with one hand. Then, so very slowly, he pulls his hand from my hair.
“I’ll get it,” he says and rolls to his feet.
“Um.” Jason sits up, too. “Maybe we should throw some clothes on.”
“…Right.” Consciousness rolls in and I struggle to push myself to a sitting position. Yep, we’re buck naked, all five of us, and it makes me grin, then blush as memories of what we did filter back in.
God. The tattoo on my back makes such sense. I’m such a slut—for them.
We pull on our clothes, which are strewn all over the mattresses. My dress is torn at the seams, my panties are a total loss. I can’t find my bra.
Torn dress it is. And shoes. I glance at the boys who are almost done dressing, and God, there is something so sexy about that ritual of dressing, pulling up their pants and buttoning them, putting on shirts that strain over their broad chests and shoulders, running fingers through tousled hair.
Such a normal, everyday act that I get to see for the first time. An act I want to witness every day.
Emrys comes to take my hand as Ashton heads over to unlock the door. “You all right?”
“Yes, but we haven’t made a plan, what to do after we leave,” I whisper.
“We’ll manage. Don’t worry about it.”
I turn my gaze back to Ashton who is frowning at the door. “Is everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I guess. Percy…” He leans against the door. “Is it midnight yet?”
“Close enough,” comes the reply. “Did you rest?”
“Yeah. We… Yeah.” Ashton grins and turns the key, pulling the door open. “Percy—”
“Well, well,” says a familiar female voice. “Look who we got here.”
I jerk, and Emrys hisses. “Ophelia? But…”
She steps aside and there is Percy—his face blank, his eyes unblinking.
Oh God, no… He’s under her enchantment.
“I couldn’t believe it when he led me here of all places,” she mutters. “Ballsy. I thought he’d have spirited you away already but I guess demonblood, strong demonblood, is in limited supply now that yours is curbed by the spell.”
She enters the basement and we gather around her, the boys reaching for her, to restrain her, tie her up, lock her up.
But an army follows her.
“So that’s why you relaxed your hold on us,” I whisper. “You enchanted the whole school.”
“I didn’t want any more hiccups before the ritual.” She flicks her gaze my way. “My mistake was trusting that idiotic secretary to lock the boys up properly and… To be honest, cousin, you impress me. I thought you were still under my spell. What a good actress you’ve turned out to be. So good at lying. Uncle would have had you reciting Hail Marys day and night to save your soul.”
