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Jessen rounded on her. “What are you laughing about?”
“You, Jessen. You still look at Moira and see your five-year-old baby sister. If you hadn’t noticed, she’s grown up. Taller than you, as a matter of fact.”
“I don’t care if she’s six-feet tall or ten-feet tall, she is still my baby sister. And I don’t want you going to those after-parties Ella told us about.”
Lucius took Jessen’s hand in his. “Perhaps we should hear what Moira needs help with. She’s waiting patiently for you to calm down before she continues.”
I loved Lucius. He understood me so well. Probably because our personalities were similar—quiet with a keen perception. And stubborn as a brick wall when we wanted to be. He held Jessen’s hand, brushing his thumb across her knuckles, soothing her. The sight of the two so openly affectionate—a Morgon and a human—still shocked me a little, when only five years ago, no one had even heard of an intermarried couple like them before.
“Fine.” Jessen inhaled and exhaled, putting on a poor show of being in control. “What help are you talking about?”
I folded and set my napkin on my plate, squaring my shoulders and facing the firing squad. “I need a Morgon, preferably a male, to be my guide in discovering the identity of the Devlin Butchers, who I believe are actually part of a Morgon cult.”
Lorian jerked to his feet. A guttural growl swelled in a violent vibration, rippling down the table and shattering every wine and water glass, sucking the breath right out of my lungs.
Dinner was over.
Chapter Three
Sorcha held the stem of her broken wine glass mid-air, gazing up at Lorian, now towering over the table. Jessen stared blank-faced at me. An awkward, edgy silence filled the room.
Lucius stood, his wings flaring halfway open. “Let’s all go to the living room where we can talk more comfortably. And calmly.”
I didn’t realize I was shaking until Kraven pulled my chair back. We followed in silence from the room, Lorian and Sorcha lagging behind. I caught a quick glance of her standing on tip-toe, cupping his face as she murmured in a gentle tone, “It’s okay. I’m okay. That’s all behind us.”
What just happened? I expected some sort of outburst, but not that. I was definitely out of the loop on something.
Lucius paced by the crackling fire. Jessen sank into an overstuffed wingback chair, obviously bought specifically for her as Morgons didn’t sit in high-backed furniture. I settled onto a sofa, pulling a pillow into my lap. Kraven sat beside me, leaning forward, elbows on knees, hands clasped together, wings slightly open. Finally, Sorcha and Lorian joined us. She stretched out on the chaise lounge. Lorian stood at her back, face frozen in stone-like rage.
Lucius paused, hands at his back. “Before we begin this conversation, I’ll apologize for my brother’s outburst.” Lucius turned his blue-fire gaze in my direction, his dragon sparkling near the surface. “I’m aware that you may not understand why Lorian reacted in such a manner, and I’m afraid that’s not a story for me to tell. It’s Sorcha and Lorian’s. Suffice to say, I think you just caught him off-guard.”
Sorcha curled her legs underneath her. Lorian looked like a sentinel, guarding his queen. The journalist in me wanted to ask a million questions, but the survivor said to keep my mouth shut.
Lucius faced his brother. “Are we all capable of continuing this conversation more calmly?”
By all, he meant Lorian, who returned a sharp nod, saying nothing. His face didn’t portray calm in any way, shape, or form.
“Now,” said Lucius. “Why exactly do you need to discover the identity of the Devlin Butchers?” Lucius’s arched brow and paternal manner told me he was no longer on my side. Or he might not be for long.
“I’m covering the story for The Herald. I’ve been?—”
“A college paper, Moira?” Jessen snapped out of her stupor. “You can’t be serious! You’re talking about hanging in a place where girls are being abducted and murdered. Do you even know what they’re doing to them?” Her voice rose to a screechy level.
“More than you do. I’ve seen pictures.”
“Pictures. What pictures? How?”
“I can’t reveal my sources.”
“She can’t reveal her sources.” Jessen threw her hands in the air, ripping me with her sardonic tone.
“Besides, I’m not saying I’m running blindly into this. I’m asking for your help.” I scanned the room, making eye contact with Lucius and Lorian. “I know this is dangerous. Believe me, I know.” My voice cracked. I couldn’t help it, imagining Maxine’s mutilated body. “But I also have a lead on someone who might be involved in Maxine Mendale’s abduction at the stadium at one of these after-parties. And I’m not sitting back and doing nothing. Jessen, I know you’re worried about me, and I love you for that. But this is something I have to do. Please understand.”
The room fell into silence again. I twisted the medal at my neck.
“What’s your lead?” Lorian’s first words, deep and gruff. And though his question was a compelling command, not a request, I wouldn’t give them anything unless they gave something back.
I sat up a little straighter. “Did the stadium security cameras catch any footage of Maxine Mendale with a suspicious Morgon?” I needed to know if they’d already identified the one we were looking for. If so, then I had nothing to bargain with.
