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How in the Underworld had she caught wind of it? Sersha and Malcolm were deviant, but surely they wouldn’t have been so careless, knowing they were in the wrong.
Albeit, power did corrupt. Perhaps they were crazy enough to think they were untouchable. They’d gotten away with their abhorrent actions long enough to believe it.
From beside me on the love seat, Casimir squeezed the inside of my knee, pulling Vera’s attention to my lap. Her gaze lingered on us over the top of her glass until the Shadow Lord spoke.
“Who iseveryone?” he asked.
“And what sort of fuss is being made?” my mate tacked on.
They should have asked if she liked breathing. Though I didn’t catch a threatening vibe, and had assured Casimir I didn’t intend to kill her, I would do what I had to if I thought she was going to sell me out. Or would selling out a Shadow demon’s mate be considered as Vera working against their interests? I should have asked for more details of their pact.
“So sorry I’m late,” Lyric announced, marching into the room.
“My gorgeous Lyric, there you are!” Vera greeted in return, rising from her chair.
“Vera, you have to stop coming onto me. I told you already, the results are in and you are not the father.”
Both females laughed as they exchanged kisses on each cheek, exactly how my mother used to do. I took another swig of the bourbon Casimir had poured for me, appreciating the slow burn traveling down my throat.
Draven stood and kissed his mate before settling her beside him on the couch. “I thought you were going to bed.”
“Well, Mr. Overlord, I was going to bed but you weren’t there and the little demon inside me wouldn’t stop doing somersaults.”
“And you didn’t want to miss out on anything, did you, Angel?”
“That, too,” she smiled good-humoredly. Then she gave me a knowing look. “You good?”
“Yes,” I affirmed, almost surprised when no pain hit my system.
Huh.
Despite Vera’s sudden appearance this evening and her startling question a few seconds ago, I bizarrely felt somewhat settled. Sitting here with this group, with Casimir’s hand on my leg, I felt accepted as one of their own. My mood had taken another drastic swing, my earlier annoyance in the bathroom forgotten.
Must be the alcohol. Or a newly fractured personality.
“So, back to the question at hand. Whose ass needs kicking for making a fuss about our Raven?”
My cheeks warmed. Lyric probably would pick up a sword and fight on my behalf. I felt protective of her, as well.
Vera’s tan linen pants rustled as she crossed her legs. “Let’s see … five or six weeks ago, a Seelie fae named Jerrin came to Eastbourne and approached our coven. He asked if we knew of a dark-haired beauty with violet eyes. He thought she might be part witch. We, of course, did not know anyone with violet eyes. Then he told us he needed to locate her kin but he wasn’t sure where they lived. He asked us to scry for them.”
“I thought you could only scry for someone if you had something of theirs with their essence,” Lyric stated.
“He had a vial of blood.”
A heavy stone sank in my stomach.
“Theoretically, anyone of shared blood can be located,” Vera added, “as long as they are in this realm and the witch scrying is powerful and has a long enough reach.”
My mind raced. I’d been captive for months by then. I was sure my spell had held and I refused to believe Sersha knew we were related. She had been more than fed up with my resistance by then. Perhaps she wanted assurance I could vanish without anyone coming to look for me.
Additionally, the Queen had already guessed I was not pure fae because of my coloring. Not long before my rescue, she started asking what blood had tainted my fae line. Most of Vera’s coven had similar skin to mine and darker shades of hair so it made sense to send someone to investigate.
I swallowed. “Did you do what he asked?”
“For a price, along with his assurance that he would not harm anyone we found. He couldn’t lie so we agreed.”
“Well,” Draven said, “that’s an easy workaround. He could send someone else to harm them.”
