he lifted his hand from her eyes, freed her wrists and climbed off her to stand beside her bed. “There. You’re free. You can do whatever you want now.”
Sean waited for her to strike, praying she wouldn’t. His own survival wasn’t his first concern, though he certainly didn’t want to die. How many of us are left to fight? How many more can we afford to lose, before there are no Secret heirs, no Gamekeepers left?
Sarah leapt to face him, and narrowed her eyes. The Midnight gaze. He folded into himself, beaten. It was over.
And when he was gone, who would she have beside her? Who would be loyal to her until the end? What an idiot he had been. He should have kept going. He should have held her down, and now it was too late. Her survival instinct had taken over – the Midnight instinct for the hunt, just like when she had slaughtered the demon-slave that had killed Leigh. She wasn’t Sarah anymore. She was a Midnight huntress, and he didn’t stand a chance.
But as he watched, Sarah blinked over and over again, until the deadly green light from her eyes finally dimmed, and she didn’t strike, she didn’t try to touch Sean with the Blackwater. She was standing in a pool of moonlight that seeped from the silvery curtains. She’s like the moon, he thought, white and pure and never quite within my reach.
“Sarah. Sarah. Please listen to me. I didn’t kill Harry. I’m sorry I lied to you,” he said, the words tumbling over themselves as he tried to make her believe him.
I love you.
“I had no choice.”
I love you.
“I wanted to tell you the truth, but there was never a right time.”
I love you.
His voice trailed away. He sounded feeble and somehow weak, even to his own ears. It was as if the truth was too complicated to convey. As if the breach of trust could never be repaired.
Sarah looked at him the way she always did, in her own direct, fearless way. In her eyes, anger and disappointment. Sean could see it as clear as day, and it pained him so much.
She’s disappointed in me, because I lied to her. How ironic. A Midnight is, by definition, a liar.
“Say your piece,” she said in a low voice.
Sean took a deep breath. His one and only chance.
“Harry Midnight was my best friend. He was like a brother. I didn’t kill him, the Secret Council did, the Sabha. It’s been infiltrated, corrupted.”
She didn’t move. She didn’t talk. She was full of that Sarah stillness he knew so well.
He tried again. “You’re still in danger. And the danger is closer than you realize. We were attacked by two soil demons on the way here, they nearly took me under.”
Sarah’s eyes widened, travelling up and down his body and taking in for the first time his muddy clothes, his wet hair.
“Sarah. The Valaya that was after you, Cathy’s Valaya, it’s just one of many. They want to destroy all the Secret Families. Someone is behind all this. We don’t know who …or what. Yet.”
She frowned slightly. “I know all this, Sean.” The moonlight made her skin glow and gave her hair, tangled in the fight, a blue halo. She didn’t look afraid anymore.
“You know?”
“Nicholas told me.”
Sean grimaced at the mention of Nicholas’s name. “You need to let me help you.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got powers. And I’m not alone. I have Nicholas with me, and as you saw that day, he has incredible powers too. Unlike you.”
Sean’s heart sank. He was just a Gamekeeper, not a Secret heir like Nicholas Donal. If he really is who he says he is.
Sean decided against mentioning his fears about Nicholas now – it would only anger her more. “All right. Point taken. But Sarah, he’s not enough.”
“You’ve seen him in action, Sean.” She said his name as if it was an insult, another reminder of his deceit.
He tried to ignore the disdain in her voice. “Listen to me, Sarah. Harry was married to another Secret heir, Elodie Brun. Elodie Midnight. She’s the last of your family, although not by blood. She’s here, in Edinburgh.”
“Ah, but is she really who she says she is?”
“She is Harry’s wife. Harry’s … widow. You must believe me.”
Sean’s shoulders hunched under the weight of the terrible, terrible mess he had made, believing he was doing what was right. How could he possibly know? Why had he ever accepted Harry’s mission? Why had he