Lucien let a warning rumble sound from the back of his throat. “Patience? I think I’ve shown quite a lot of patience considering I’ve just been told there is an enemy in my town and no one will get to the point and tell me exactly what is going on.”
Saffron shrugged gracefully and walked over to stand beside Marion’s chair. “Faeries have an energy like all of us beings-”
“Trace.” Lucien nodded. Everybody knew about trace, it was a part of their energy, their existence.
“Yes. Trace. Only a very, very old faerie can mask their trace. I’m talking half a millennia old, and there are only a few of those old spies kicking around, not to mention that every single one of them works for Daylight.”
Lucien nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. “So this Midnight faerie... it can’t mask its trace, so you sense it here?”
“Exactly.”
“Yeah,” Ryder growled, slapping at Lucien’s shoulder to get his attention. “The dumb tree sensed it, and didn’t say anything until we were at the Coven with Marion!”
“Am I the tree in that sentence?” Saffron hissed, her eyes narrowing on Ryder dangerously.
“Children, please.” Marion sighed, rubbing her temples at their exchange.
“Yes. Children,” Lucien agreed, smirking at Ryder and turning back to Saffron. “So, can you follow this trace?”
She quirked her lip, shaking her head softly. “Unfortunately, only the Head of either Coven is blessed with that ability.”
His gaze snapped to Marion who was already shaking her head. “Nope, no, Lucien. My sister and brother-in-law are in the middle of their own little mess at the moment. Marita does not have time to come down here, I’m sorry. At times like these you’re lucky to have gotten me and Saffron.”
“Lucky isn’t the word I’d use,” he heard Ryder mumble under his breath.
“Lykans aren’t the only ones with good hearing,” the faerie snapped at him. He smiled innocently, which seemed to annoy her more.
Usually their childish banter would have amused Lucien, but now he was too nervous. Spinning around to face Ryder he let his emotions play on his face, as he only could with his closest friend. “This is about Caia.”
“I tend to agree with you there,” he could hear Marion whisper, and so turned back to her carefully.
“I need your help with Caia, she’s showing the signs.”
“Have you told her the truth yet?”
“No.”
“Well, I can’t help until you do so.”
He was irritated by the demand in her voice, not used to having his decisions made for him, especially when he’d already decided on that course of action. “I’m going to,” he growled lightly. “But only about The Hunter and her heritage. The other... well... she needn’t know about that just yet.”
“You’re sure?”
He felt his shoulders tense, his teeth clenched. “Yes,” he managed.
“OK then.”
Her eyelids felt as if a pile of lead had been piled on top of them, refusing to let them open. Come to think of it, her face felt pretty heavy, too. Slowly, Caia managed to open her eyes, the sleep easing from them until she had focused on the ceiling. Ugh, what a weird, deep sleep she’d had. She felt her right arm lying across her stomach, but her left one, she couldn’t. Groaning, Caia turned and used her right arm to pull it out from under her pillow. Numb. She used her right hand to shake her left into waking, until gradually she was moving each finger. Flexing it, she sighed as the sharp burning tingles brought it back to life. Flopping back onto her pillow, Caia’s gaze found its way back to the ceiling, her mind assailed with images. Her fingers unconsciously brushed her lips as she remembered Lucien’s kiss. It had been a great kiss. Her first kiss. At the mere memory, an eruption of butterflies exploded in her stomach, their little wings flapping rapidly against her heart, and kicking it into an erratic speed. And then memories of the day before intruded, obliterating each and every one of those butterflies with the force of a shotgun.
Alexa taunting her about having slept with Lucien.
Caia cursed them both, groaning at having stupidly fallen for Lucien’s easy charm. And that hadn’t been the worst of it. Her heart sped up again, remembering how she’d had no control over her change at school, at Sebastian having saved her ass and the pack’s, from exposure. She felt a wave of sickness. Climbing out of bed, she dozily made it into her bathroom and breathed with relief when the nausea passed. She braced herself against the sink and stared deeply into the mirror above it, hoping to find answers to the questions she saw in her eyes. But none were forthcoming. Instead she ran the cold water and, cupping a handful of it, threw it up and into her face, enjoying the icy rivulets running down her skin. And then an invisible hammer hit her head as she glanced back at the mirror, the conversation she heard between Sebastian and Lucien yesterday when she’d been changing in his car, rang in her ears.
Her eyes flashed and she growled, wanting to rip the sink off the wall.
They knew!
She tore out of the bathroom, hurriedly pulling on a pair of jeans, and then tore down the stairs as if the hounds of Hades were nipping at her ankles. Her bluster, however, slowly died at the sound of voices coming from the living room, bringing her to an abrupt halt. She sniffed the air and found the familiar scents of her housemates, plus Magnus, Dimitri and Ryder. Among the scents were two unfamiliar ones – of the non-lykan variety. She grumbled, realizing she couldn’t exactly rip Lucien’s head off in company. Oh, but he had it coming.