“It’s better if we go to their house anyway, right? At the clubhouse, Mark could draw upon anyone at hand to help Jaxon. At the house, they’ll only have Athena and the heirs along with whoever’s playing bodyguards for the day,” she reasons in an attempt to calm me down.
I sigh, wishing I could accept her reassurance. “The Blackmoor heirs are more than capable of restraining us themselves. As is Athena, frankly.”
Winter sighs, nuzzling my shoulder in an unusual display of innocent affection. “I was just trying to find a silver lining.”
Chuckling darkly, I kiss the top of her head. “Sorry. I’ve mucked that up too.”
Winter releases a nervous giggle. “We’ll be fine,” she says again.
This time I understand she’s saying it to comfort herself, not out of delusional optimism.
As I pull onto the road leading to the King residence, I feel as though the walls of the world are closing in around me. I can barely stand that I’m the one driving Winter to what I’m sure is going to be a terrible fate. It conflicts with every cell of my body. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I spot Jaxon and Mark close on my bumper, flanking me.
All too soon, I pull into the looped driveway that leads right up to the front steps of the mansion. I brought Winter here not a week ago to remind her of what she isn’t any longer. I can see in her expression that she’s considering the irony of it. She’s finally letting go of her past. And now it’s caught up to her at last.
The windows that glowed with life and energy just a few nights before look ominously dark and empty now, sending a chill down my spine.
Rather than letting me walk around the truck to open the passenger door, Winter slides out the driver’s side with me, seemingly unwilling to part with me for even a short window of time. Jaxon leads us up the front steps without a word. We follow a few paces behind, me with my hand pressed gently to Winter’s lower back in what I can only hope feels like a supportive gesture. Mark brings up the rear, his solemn silence brooding as he considers the bigger picture here, no doubt. While he might not care if Winter is disposed of, I know on some small level at least, Mark doesn’t like the thought of losing me. I’ve been a loyal member of the club and as close to a son to Mark as anyone could be. But the club comes first. I know that, and so does he.
As we reach the top steps, Winter starts to tremble beneath my fingers. I know that for all her confidence and bravado, she’s actually terrified to be facing her rival, the boys she took on so ruthlessly when she was part of the Romero family. She doesn’t expect any mercy from them, and neither do I. I’ve seen the way the Blackmoor families take care of their rivals. No matter how much they talk about change and making things better, to me, they're just a different label on the same brand as the last generation.
“Geoffrey,” Jaxon says as we enter the foyer and a tall, thin man with steel-grey hair greets us.
He’s the same man who’s guided us through the large mansion before, and I know him as the man servant or butler, or at least that’s what I’ve come to assume by his formal appearance and apparent duties.
“They’re waiting for you in the library,” the manservant says, his eyes landing on Winter and following her as we pass.
“Thank you,” Jaxon says with a nod, turning left to head in the direction of the room we’ve seen before when the Devil’s Sons first negotiated with the Blackmoor heirs.
The air is thick with tension as none of us speak. I wonder just how dangerous of a trap we might be walking into here and whether Jaxon called ahead to warn the rest of them about our arrival. Leaning into the heavy oaken doors, Jaxon steps into the library first. From the casual greeting he receives, I would say his friends are in for a surprise.
“How’d it go?” Dean Blackmoor asks in his cold voice. I can recognize it even without being in the room yet.
“Unexpectedly. I… have something for you, Athena.”
Jaxon’s tone says he’s less than confident about his decision to spring us on her like this, but I suppose he was caught so entirely off guard that he didn’t think it through until now. Jaxon glances back at us and pushes the doors wider to allow us entrance.
Winter hesitates beside me, and I don’t force her forward. I’m here to protect her, to do my best to keep her alive, and if she changes her mind right here and now and decides to make a run for it, I will take my chances to make that happen. Sucking in a shuddering breath, Winter squares her shoulders and steps forward.
And in that instant, right before she steps into the doorway, I’m overcome by the urge to grab her around the waist, tuck her under my arm, and sprint for the door. But Mark’s hand on my shoulder stops me just in time.Was I that obvious?Glancing back at my club president, I read his expression. It’s one of resigned acceptance. We never would have gotten away. Not with Mark keeping a close eye on me and knowing me so well.
Clenching my teeth, I follow Winter through the door to take in the stunned expressions of Dean Blackmoor, Cayde St. Vincent, Athena Saint, and her curly-haired wisp of a friend Mia. They all sit casually around a table, a game of chess laid out before them. I don’t know why that irritates me so much, but it does. They’re here, spending their day as though life is perfectly normal. At the same time, Winter and I have struggled for months to hide from them, stay safe, and find any bit of normalcy in our strange new existence.
“Winter Romero?” Dean growls, rising from his chair with stiff formality, his finger clenching into fists.
Athena rises as well, followed by Cayde as Jaxon joins them. Athena’s friend Mia tries to make herself scarce, slipping from her seat back into the corner, away from the conflict.
“You’re supposed to be dead,” Athena observes, her blue eyes studying Winter with predatory anger.
I don’t know why Winter chose to make enemies with that girl, of all the people she could have chosen in the world, but physically they’re no match. Winter might be trim, fit, and tall, but Athena’s built like a fighter, her arms well-muscled, her physique more athletic than curvy. And from the intelligence in her eyes, she would be no small opponent to outthink either.
“Yeah, sorry about that. Apparently, it’s harder to kill me than either of us would have thought,” Winter retorts, her tone more confident now.
“And you’ve been hiding around town this whole time?” Dean asks, his eyes flicking to Jaxon and then to Mark before returning to Winter.
“I saved her,” I say, stepping forward to stand beside Winter again.
Athena’s eyes study me carefully, recognition dawning there as her nose flares with what I can only assume is anger.