AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I understand, but—”
I slam the pen down. “He was going torapeher, Maeve. If I hadn’t shot him, he’d have done it, or something much worse.And even if I did stop him by beating his fucking face in, he’d have found a way to get back at me for stopping him, probably through someone from my clan. He wanted a war but he took it too far this time.”
Maeve stares at me a moment, then turns her head, looking away. She digs into the leather handbag on her lap and pulls out a bloom. After she finds her lighter and sparks the tip, she pulls from it, then releases a chain of smoke.
“Did you tell The Council these details?”
“I did. And that his people kidnapped Juniper and Killian. They know I had motive—that I reacted out of defense.”
“And what did they say?”
“That I still have to pay a price for it.”
Her eyes widen, worried. “Did they say how?”
“Not yet.”
“For the love of Vakeeli, Caz.” She pulls from her bloom again, shaking her head. “You know what they do. They either kill you or they use your fears against—the thing that makes you feel weakest.”
“I have no fears.”
Maeve eyes me. “We all have fears.” Another pull from the bloom. "Well,” she sighs, uncrossing her legs and standing. “Despite the barbarity of it, I’m glad you did it. You saved her life, plus I’ve always hated Rami.” Maeve trots to the door but stops to look back at me. “Do you love her?”
I frown, my heart catching speed from her words.“What?”
“You heard me.”
“She was just a woman who needed to be returned home. She was my responsibility, and I handled it.”
“Yes, but you knew going into it that killing Rami could tarnish you, end your life even. I’m assuming she was worth that risk.” When I don’t say anything, Maeve smirks and leaves the office, and I shake my head, popping open the gray canister onmy desktop and plucking out another bloom. I light the end and lean back in my chair, taking a long, hard pull.
“This family will be the death of me.”
Fifty-Five
WILLOW
“How the hell…?”I stare at the calendar on my phone screen. Only two days have passed since I dropped into Vakeeli. How is that even possible when I spent nearly five days there?
I expected to come back to missing posters with my face on it and cops swarming my apartment, but instead, all is normal. The bed is unmade, clothes still strewn all over the place. Even my takeout containers are still on the dining table.
The only difference is the note on the fridge from Garrett, who is concerned about my whereabouts. I’m not surprised by that, considering he visits me daily when he thinks I’m not working.
Callme when you see this. I’ve stopped by twice and you weren’t here.
I pluckthe sticky note off the fridge and place it on the counter, then grip the edge of it. The last thing I want is talk to Garrett,but I’m sure he’s going to stop by again sometime, so I send him a quick text to let him know I’m fine.
He responds almost immediately, but not with a text. A call. I groan and reluctantly answer.
“Willow?” he hisses into the phone. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Why are you whispering?”
“I just walked out of the middle of a meeting,” he says hurriedly. “That’s not the point. I’ve been worried! You left your phone at home. What’s going on with you?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Where’d you go?” he demands.
