“I’ll keep an eye out for them. If patrol goes well, we’ll probably head into town for a drink.”
Outliers?
“Yeah.”
I love that place. His tone was suddenly more animated and excited, and a feeling of joy and possibility swelled inside me. Lauter, the owner, loved me playing guitar on a Friday night and then we’d—
He cut off suddenly and blinked sharply, and the balloon of joy popped.
“Rune?”
I should get back to the pack house.
He padded toward the door.
“Rune? I’d have loved to see you play.”
He paused and looked back at me. I’d have written a song just for you.
Then he was gone.
“What if they don’t work?” Jessie fiddled with the leather bracelet around her wrist. “The sisters aren’t infallible.”
“They might as well be,” Poppy said.
“Is that why they went all crazy on Cora’s ass?” Jessie asked.
Poppy wiggled her fingers in the air. “Power hungry.”
I sat in the window seat of the lounge in The Elite quarters. The furniture was all mismatched colorful shit that made my eyes hurt and my heart happy. The ladies knew how to make use of throws and oversized cushions. Jessie and Poppy were curled up on the three-seater sofa, and Sloane had taken a single-seater and had her feet propped on the coffee table, purple fluffy socks on display. There were four bedrooms leading off the huge lounge. The doors to three were ajar but the fourth was shut tight.
Brie’s room.
The room a new fourth Elite would occupy, but they hadn’t offered it to me, and I didn’t want it. I might be an Elite, but I was also the anchor, and my home was with my mates. And yes, if a few weeks ago someone had told me I’d be thinking this mushy shit, I’d have laughed in their face and then slapped them for good measure. But I was changed.
It felt good.
Scary but good.
Sloane had dumped my bags in her room, and I’d gotten a peek into a black and cream haven with a flat-screen TV bolted to the wall. The bed was a large double, big enough for the two of us, and after last night, sleeping snuggled up to Sloane, I was no longer nervous about sharing a bed with her. I’d be safe, as long as I kept wicked Cora under control and didn’t try and tease her.
“How’s Wren doing?” Poppy asked.
Shit. “How did you hear about that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Ghosts talk. You might not have noticed, but the little tyke has stolen many hearts at the mansion both living and dead.”
And if what Conah said was true, then he’d be tearing out those hearts soon enough.
How much did they know about his condition? “What have you heard, exactly?”
“That he’s under the weather.” Poppy scanned my face and frowned. “But there’s more, isn’t there?”
These were The Elites, and I was one of them. We were a team, and maybe if they knew the truth, when the time came, they’d help me to…do whatever needed to be done. God, I felt sick thinking about it.
“Wren might be dangerous.”
“Fuck off,” Jessie said.
I sighed. “According to Conah, Wren is definitely dangerous.” I filled them in on what the reaper had told me. “But Wren’s different.” I pleaded with my eyes. “He’s not the typical egocentric, selfish mogwai. You know, you’ve met him.”
“He almost died saving you from the revenant,” Poppy agreed.
“Exactly.” I shot her a grateful smile.
Sloane tipped her head to the side, electric-blue eyes narrowing in thought. “There are anomalies in the world, exceptions to the rules. We can’t condemn Wren until we know for sure.” She locked gazes with me. “We’ll do this together, Cora. Whatever needs to be done. If he’s what Conah says he is, then we’ll find a way to control his bloodlust. No one will condemn him before we know the truth.”
Her words were a weight off my shoulders. It was going to be okay. “Thanks.”
“Enough chit-chat,” Jessie said. “We need to get ready to go. The Order won’t fuck itself over.”
“No,” Sloane said. “That part is up to us.”
Jessie and Poppy headed to their rooms to change for patrol, but Sloane lingered.
“It’ll be okay, cupcake. The glamour bracelets will work, we’ll take out some revenants, Conah will find a way to stop the original vamps, and then we’ll have a party to celebrate.”
Her optimism reminded me of Fee. “And Elijah will find the Sons of Adam’s base.”
“They don’t call him the bloodhound for nothing.”
“They call him that?”
“No, but they should. Elijah finds stuff— artifacts, people, obscure spells. It’s his gift.”
There was so much I didn’t know about the warlock. “And he works with witches.”
Sloane smiled. “Elijah is one of us.” She stood and stretched so her tee rode up to reveal her taut abdomen and neat six-pack.
My stomach fluttered. Look away.
“Nah, cupcake, feast your eyes if you like.” She smirked. “You can even have a feel later when we’re in bed. Like I said. I don’t bite, not unless you ask me to.”
She padded out of the room. I exhaled and shook off the frisson of desire she always seemed to evoke before turning my mind back to Elijah.
The fact that he was good at finding stuff was great, but this time he was after original vampires. Ancient creatures that we had no idea how to kill.
I was worried about him.
Really fucking worried.
Chapter Twenty-Six Bramble
I sit on a chair by the window of the inn. If the sun were out I’d see the whale bone arch in the distance. A great place to take photos, or so the brochures say, but there won’t be any sunlight for another two months at least.
It’s dark and ominous and I hate this place. “I think my ass is frozen and I can’t feel my face.”
“Can you ever feel your face?” Elijah asks with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
I poke my cheek. “Nothing.”
He reaches over and pulls my beanie down over my ears before sitting back in his seat.
