I’ll be in contact.”
Grey could only grunt as he stepped away from the table. Calder placed Grey’s hand on his elbow again and led him toward the SUV. It was only when they were inside and the doors locked around them that either of them spoke.
“Do you believe him?” Calder asked softly.
“No,” Grey said firmly.
“Is it wrong that I feel like I should, though?”
“No, and that’s what makes that entire conversation scary.” It was clear that John had the power to brainwash humans into doing his bidding, but could he also brainwash a Weaver? If he couldn’t prior to now, would he be able to with Grey largely cut off from his powers?
Fuck. They needed to find a spell to fix his eyes now before one of them got killed.
Chapter 18
“I can’t believe you left the house with only Calder!” Clay yelled as soon as Grey and Calder walked through the door leading to the breakfast area.
Blindsided by the wave of fury that pummeled him, Grey stopped right inside. His defenses went up instantly, his hands closing into fists. He stared into the darkness, picking up on more people and emotions, mostly worried and anxious. They were so strong, they threatened to resurrect his headache, which had thankfully eased on the medication he’d taken in the car. He took a couple of steps, hearing Calder enter the house behind him.
Clay continued, “He’s still learning his powers, and you guys could have run up against pestilents. You’re fucking blind, Grey! What would you have done?”
“Considering we did encounter pestilents and we survived, I’d say we handled it well.” Grey glared in the direction of Clay’s voice. Anger filled him with Clay questioning him like this, and he was already in a shitty mood from the meeting with John. Not to mention the constant headache he’d been dealing with for days. He didn’t need Clay berating him.
“What? You did?” Baer asked from somewhere to his right. “What happened?”
He rubbed his fingers over his closed eyes and sighed. “First of all, is everyone here? Cort?”
“I’m here,” Cort replied from near the kitchen. His voice came closer. “Did you get your painkillers?”
“Yes.”
Grey slipped around the table and walked toward the couch in the family room. He dropped onto the cushion and stared into the darkness. He smelled something sweet—like a cake—baking in the oven, and his stomach growled. He realized he hadn’t eaten anything all day. Probably hadn’t been the best idea to take painkillers on an empty stomach but oh well.
“All here,” Wiley piped up. He sat on Grey’s right. “You fought pestilents? You don’t have a scratch on you!”
He turned that direction. “We didn’t fight them. We talked to one of them.”
“Just talked?” Clay’s voice drew closer. “One actually stopped attacking long enough to what…sit down over coffee?”
Grey smirked. That was so close to the truth. He held his breath, then released it slowly. His gut churned. “Are you sure you trust me to tell you what really happened?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Clay demanded.
He looked in the direction of Clay’s voice. “I’m the betrayer, right?”
Clay went perfectly silent while several people spoke up at once. In all the noise, there was one other voice missing. Baer’s.
“You wouldn’t betray us,” Wiley said, anger lacing his voice. “Why would you say that?”
“What are you talking about?” This came from Lucien, who sounded like he was coming from the doors.
Dane walked up behind the couch and put a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, what’s going on?”
“Ask Clay,” Grey snarled, starting to feel claustrophobic with everyone so close. “He’s the one who thought it.”
“You heard that?” Clay cursed softly and sat on his left. A hand touched his knee. “I’m sorry you heard that, but I don’t think it’s true.”
“Then why think it? Why would such a thing ever fucking cross your mind?”
Clay sighed heavily, the sound seeming to come from the darkest part of his soul. “It’s something I read in one of the journals. Hold on, I’ll grab it.”
Someone else sat next to him when Clay got up, and he recognized Cort’s fresh scent and leaned into him. Cort put an arm around his shoulder. “Sorry I didn’t come right over. I was helping Dane in the kitchen. Is the prescription working?”
“Yeah, I took some. It’s working. No headache.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were having headaches?” Dane asked, still standing behind the couch.
“Because you’ve helped me enough. I didn’t want to bother you. It’s just a headache.”
“Headaches I can