“I don’t know, honey. She got the same dark magic you did.”
Tristan bent down to lift Rina into his arms.
“Don’t you dare touch her!” Julia hissed at him, her body protecting Rina’s.
Chandra placed a hand on Julia’s arm. “Julia, it’s over. Tristan is obviously not the traitor.”
“Yes, we have been made fools of,” Armand said, his tone mixed with exhaustion and anger. “Martin was the traitor. He—or she, I should say—had all of our thoughts twisted up.”
“Then are you done accusing my husband?” I asked.
Savio, Robin, and several others averted their eyes and fidgeted nervously.
“I believe it is obvious,” Solomon said, “that not only is Tristan not a traitor, but that he is meant to be with us. The Angels have given him to the Amadis, and we shall not disregard their gift.”
Several council members murmured their assent, and the crowd cheered.
“Allow me to apologize on behalf of all of us who doubted,” Savio said without raising his head.
“We’ll deal with the consequences later,” Mom said, and she turned toward Rina. “Tristan, you probably want to spend some time with Bree . . .”
Tristan looked at Bree and then at me. “I’d rather spend time with my wife and son first. I have much to think about.”
“Then can you please take Rina to the mansion?”
“No, I will take her,” Julia said, no longer defensive or protective, but more like she didn’t want to let Rina go. Her eyes looked pained and grief-stricken as she looked down at Rina’s still body.
“You can’t flash with her,” Mom said. “You have to see the logic in getting her to her bed as soon as possible.”
Julia didn’t respond at first, but finally nodded. Tristan bent down and lifted Rina into his arms. Her body fell limply against him as he turned to Bree.
“Go,” Bree said before he could say anything. “I understand. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Tristan disappeared, and Mom followed. The crowd noisily filtered through the doors. I was about to leave, too, but not before checking on Owen. He was nowhere around. Lisa and Jessica caught my eye, and I hurried over to them.
“Do you know where Owen went?” I asked them.
“No, but he left this for you.” Lisa held out my dagger.
“We can probably find him,” Jessica said with a mischievous smile.
I narrowed my eyes as I slid my dagger into my belt. “Can I trust you?”
“Probably not.” Lisa’s smile matched her sister’s. “But we promise not to hurt him.”
“Unless he wants us to,” Jessica added. “Some males like that.”
I cringed, not wanting to think about Owen’s bedroom preferences. I probably shouldn’t have trusted them, but my heart hurt for Owen. He couldn’t have been in a good frame of mind. I thought he could use the distraction the faeries would provide.
“Please find him,” I said. “And bring him back. He needs his family. His real family.”
Lisa and Jessica grinned excitedly. “We are more than happy to do this favor for you.”
They disappeared before I could say anything. I hit my forehead with my palm. Crap. Now we owe the faeries even more. I didn’t know what that meant—how bad it would be—but since they’d come here in support of Bree, I hoped it wouldn’t be too awfully bad. But if it was, Owen was worth it.
I’d go looking for him myself, but I had too much to deal with . . . and I was probably the last person he wanted to see anyway, since I’d played a key role in his father’s death. No, not his father’s. That wasn’t really Martin. Perhaps that was true, but that meant this Martin—the one we all knew—was the one who raised Owen. The only one Owen knew as a father.
With a heavy heart, I glanced around the room, expecting to find it cleared out. Guards stood right outside the door waiting to take care of Martin’s body once everyone left. But the room wasn’t empty. Charlotte still stood there, holding her broken arm and staring at the lump of robes on the floor. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Char . . . ?” I said quietly, taking a step toward her.
Faster than a vampire, she yanked the dagger out of her corset and sprang at Martin’s body.
“You son of a bitch!” she screeched, slamming the dagger down. Making sure he was truly dead. But instead of the sound of the blade sliding through flesh and bones, we only heard the sharp twang of metal hitting