As for the dead counselor Kate and I found in her bed, Savannah thinks that was Heloise. The counselor found out something was up and Heloise murdered her, planning to blame the out-of-control half-demons.
A helicopter arrives while we’re explaining. Lucean contract employees flown in to handle cleanup. Heloise, her confederates and the necromancers will all face Cabal and council justice. Others are flying in to help the still-unconscious campers and deal with their parents.
For us, it’s back to the conference center, where exhaustion hits us. We have solved the mysteries, captured the perpetrators and led responsible adults back to tend to the wounded. Once that’s done, we shut down, milling about and slurring our words until I notice Kate and Allan have drifted off, and before I can comment, I’m out, too.
The only person who didn’t seem exhausted was Mason. He stayed on the edge of all conversations, and I kept losing sight of him, worrying that he’d slipped away, only to glimpse him as he wandered about doing . . . whatever.
No, not whatever. Avoiding me. He’s already drifting, waiting for the chance to escape. Yet when I wake from my brief doze, there’s a blanket tucked over me, and it smells of him and . . . and I don’t know what to make of that.
I rise, determined to go find him. Then I spot a hulking shape standing watch over Kate, who’s sound asleep on Elijah’s shoulder, his arm around her as he sleeps. I smile at them. That’s my first reaction, too. Not jealousy or annoyance hidden under a fake smile. Genuine warmth that fills me on seeing them, and I am glad of that. Glad, too, that Mason is there, watching over them. Yet when I rise, a voice sounds in the distance, a voice that is undoubtedly Mason. I blink at the dark-haired figure by my sister, and my night vision adjusts until I realize it’s Derek.
I stride forward, that watchful gaze suddenly seeming much more sinister. My sister is a werewolf, and I know from my mother that can mean trouble with males of our kind. In two steps, though, I see Derek’s face, and there’s none of that on it. He only seems to be watching her, his gaze turned inward, as if deep in thought.
He hears me and turns with a nod of greeting. “Hey.”
I nod back.
He continues, “I promised Kate that I’d give her some pointers on fighting benandanti, but I’m not sure I’ll be around when she wakes up. Can you pass them on? Tell her I said sorry for not sticking around?”
“You aren’t staying until our parents arrive, then.”
He goes still, and a soft voice behind us says, “Rain check?”
Chloe walks in from the hallway and joins Derek, his hand going to engulf hers.
“Is it really a rain check?” I say. “Or a polite no? Because if I tell my mom that Derek has agreed to meet her, and he doesn’t, she’ll be disappointed. So will Davis.” I look at Derek. “That’s your cousin.”
He nods, expression guarded.
“He’s the only survivor of the strike against the Cains,” I continue. “Except for a few distant relatives, they’re all gone.”
“I heard,” he says, face studiously blank.
“I know you had a bad experience with them, but Davis is a good guy. He wouldn’t be in the Pack otherwise. He was never your typical Cain.” I pause. “I think you know what that’s like.”
No answer.
“He would love to meet you,” I say. “That doesn’t mean you need to consider joining the Pack. Meeting my mom doesn’t mean that, either. It’s making contact. Nothing more.”
Silence. I glance at Kate and wish she was awake. She might call me the better politician, but she’s more persuasive. She could keep this light, a joking sales pitch, no pressure to buy.
My tactic is to lay out all the advantages and make a logical argument. I know Derek’s a math whiz, but this isn’t about logic. What’s holding him back is emotion. Fear and a natural inclination to keep to himself, insulated with his small pack of friends.
I glance at Chloe. She shakes her head. This has to be on him.
Finally, he turns to her, and I don’t even see a look exchanged, but she nods and says, “I’ve spoken to Paige, who said the same thing. I’ll leave you my number. Call, and we’ll set something up.”
“Off Pack territory,” Derek says. “Just your mom and you guys. Davis, too, if he wants.”
“In other words, not my father.”
“No, sorry,” Chloe says. “I understand he’s your mother’s bodyguard. If that means she can’t meet us without him, then we won’t be meeting. She can bring you two and Davis. That should be enough.”
“It is,” I say. “The bodyguard thing is mostly an excuse to take her husband along. Mom is her own bodyguard.”
Chloe smiles. “Having seen your sister fight, I don’t doubt it.”
“One more thing before you go,” I say. “Mason. He’s an Edison Group subject. Project Valhalla.”
“We heard that.”
“Could you talk to him?”
Derek’s brows lift. “Yeah, we can talk. Question is whether he wants to listen, and I get the impression he doesn’t.”
“He said he does. He has questions.”
Chloe says, “We also know an early Valhalla subject named Kat. Maybe he’ll accept an exchange of contact information.”
“That’d be great,” I say. “And I’ll take those tips for Kate on fighting benandanti.”
“I don’t think you’ll need to.” Chloe nods at Kate, who’s stretching, her eyes still closed, lips curled in a silent snarling yawn. “Derek can speak to both of you, and I’ll go track down Mason.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Kate
It’s morning. Derek and Chloe are gone despite my best efforts. Chloe gave us her number, though, and promised they’d meet with us. Logan is off talking to Paige.
We’re still in the conference center. All the campers have been bussed out, along with the necromancers and Heloise’s group. We’re just waiting to be picked up. Mom and Dad are due to arrive in an hour. I was hoping they could meet Holly and Allan, but a car has already arrived for them, their flights home booked, families anxious to get them home after their ordeal.
I walk into Allan’s room where he’s grabbing his bag.
“Goodbye hug?” I ask.
He smiles. “Absolutely.”
We embrace, and he gives me an extra squeeze, saying, “Can we keep in touch?”
“That’s up to you because I am definitely keeping in touch. Annoying messages at all hours, commencing now. I hope you like puppy memes.”
“I’m more of a cat person.”
I arch my brows in mock affront. “No wonder we didn’t work out together. We’ll need to see whether Chloe can fix you up with a nice skin-walker.”
He grins. “I wouldn’t say no. You may send me puppy memes, though.” He hefts his bag onto his shoulder. “Also, I’m joining the Sabrinas.”
“Are you now?”
“Yeah. Holly made me see that I need more witch magic in my life. It’s been . . .” He wrinkles his nose. “Complicated. Witches are female, sorcerers are male, so I must be a sorcerer. Except I’m not. I’m a guy, and I’m a witch. I want to be a witch. So I will be.”
“Excellent choice.” I hug him again. “Now there is a chauffeured ride waiting for you, and I need to talk to Holly before you two leave.”
“Hey,” Holly says as we meet in the hall. “I was just going to go find you.”
“Beat you to it.”
We stand in awkward silence. Then, in unison, we say, “I’m sorry.”
Holly cocks a brow. “What are you sorry for?”
“Letting you get taken hostage.”
She sputters. “I’ll have you know I got taken hostage all by myself. Heloise tricked us both, and I just feel better knowing I’m not the only one she fooled. Also, I’ll have you know that I got free from my gag not once, but twice.”
“Saving my ass the second time, and trying to save it the first with that barrier spell. Very nicely done.”
; “Would have been nicer if I could have taken her down before she put the gag on in the first place. She got me up into that attic by insisting on seeing the mummy so she could properly report it. The flashlight went out, and it seemed like two people grabbed me and tied me up. When the light came on, it was just her, and I felt like a fool.”
“Her teleporting half-demon buddy helped.”
“Yep. That makes me feel better, but it still proves that I’m not ready for solo missions.”
“Ditto. We tried. We learned. We still succeeded.”
She sighs. “Except for the total failure of my actual mission. I never even saw Renée Livingston.”
“But now she knows who you are, and she’ll know you did protect her. I call that mission semi-accomplished.”
We embrace. As we part, Holly says, “So after I completely misrepresented myself, is there any chance of still getting your number, roomie?”
“Only if you actually want it and don’t just feel obligated.”
She makes a face. “Obligated? Me? Never.” She turns away, coloring slightly. “And you don’t need to feel obligated, either. I know we were kind of thrown together.”
“By fate,” I say, hugging her again. “I totally want to stay in touch. Witches and werewolves make excellent friends. Just ask my mom and Paige.”
“Uh, I heard that they hated each other at first.”
“Hate is a strong word. Mutual dislike, which blossomed into close friendship. We’re just going to skip that first step.”
“Excellent.”
We see the spellcasters off, and then, as the hired car disappears, Elijah leans over and murmurs, “Can I talk to you? Before your folks show up?”
My stomach clenches. I’d hoped he was staying to meet Mom, but I hadn’t dared ask. With Paige and Savannah buzzing about giving orders to the supernatural clean-up crew, I hadn’t heard Elijah or Mason’s departure plans. Now, as Elijah says that, I know what’s coming.
He leads me into the forest. Once we’re out of earshot of everyone else, I say, “Will you at least keep in touch?”
He looks over as if startled. “What?”
“You’re going to tell me that you aren’t staying to meet my parents. Does that mean goodbye for good? Or just a solid no to any potential Pack recruitment drive?”
He studies me for a moment. “If you honestly think this would be goodbye, then I have seriously done something wrong.”
“I—”
He takes my hands and squeezes them. “No need to answer that. I have done seriously wrong. I spent the last two days chasing you and then, when you turn my way, running in the other direction.”
“Uh, if there was chasing, I totally missed it.”
“Metaphorical chasing. Letting you know that I like you, and then fleeing, and then coming back, but making it very, very clear that my return changes nothing, only to make out with you again.”
“I liked the making out part. The running away?” I shrug. “For a predator, I’m not actually all that keen on the chase. Not that sort, at least. Especially when I got the sense you weren’t just playing hard to get.”
“I wasn’t. The thing is . . .” He eases back on his heels, locs swaying as he shakes his head. “I’m going to try to explain, and I will probably screw this up, but here goes. When I was a kid, I was tall for my age. Naturally, being a tall Black kid, everyone pushed me toward hoops. I liked it well enough, but basketball wasn’t my thing. Still, I spent years playing because everyone said it should be my thing. Last year, I finally said, screw this, it’s time to grow up and say I don’t want to be on the team.”
“Okay . . .”
“You’re the opposite of basketball, KitKat.”
“Okay . . .”
“I met you. I liked you. Really liked you. Then, that first night, I woke up in a cold sweat. I was making out with the Pack Alpha’s daughter. I liked the Pack Alpha’s daughter.”
“Which is bad because you blame the Pack for your brother’s death.”
“My dad did. He sent his son to the Pack, thinking it would be the best and safest life for a werewolf. Then Logan died. Dad blamed himself, and he blamed the Pack. If there’s one message he hammered in, it was to stay far from the Pack. He didn’t think they intentionally killed my brother but . . .” He shrugs. “Black guy dies first. It’s a stereotype for a reason. We’re expendable.”
“That’s not—”
“I don’t know how it was, Kate. You want me to say that I understand, but I don’t have enough data to do that. What I do know is that you’re not your parents. You’re not the entire Pack. I like you, and if there’s a chance we can make this work—whatever the Pack did or didn’t do to my brother—then I want to take that chance.”
I open my mouth, and he puts one finger softly to my lips.
“I will talk to your parents. Whether you give me another chance or not, I’m staying, and I’m speaking to them. I might say that I don’t know what happened with my brother, but I’m optimistic that my dad was mistaken. He thought his son was sacrificed to the cause. Either as cannon fodder or because no one was watching his back. The odd guy out. The expendable one. But I don’t think people like that could have raised you and your brother. You came to my rescue even after I was a jerk to you. Logan watched out for me even when he didn’t trust me. I’ll talk to your parents. Today, if possible. But this is about us.”
He looks me in the eye. “I screwed up. I freaked out and didn’t handle it maturely, and I hurt you. I’m hoping, whatever you decide, that you can forgive me for that.”
“Yes, you didn’t handle it well, but I’m not sure I’d have done any better, especially with all the craziness going on around us. I won’t pretend I wasn’t hurt, but I get it. I was the enemy. I was part of the group that you grew up believing betrayed your brother. I appreciate that you’ve realized, whatever happened with your Logan, that wasn’t me.”
“I do.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay, step one down. Step two.” He puts his hands on my waist, holding me at arm’s length. “I like you in case that isn’t clear. I kept telling myself I couldn’t possibly like you that much, that fast. But it just . . .”
He meets my eyes again. “There’s something here, and if I don’t find out what it is, I’m always going to wonder what it could have been. Maybe that’s too fast for you. Maybe I’ve blown it already. If so, then I’d just like to get to know you better, Kate Danvers, however you’ll take me.”
I nod, my gaze sliding from his. His hands tense.
I take a deep breath and look up at him. “I really do like you but—”
He jumps back, hands jerking away as if scalded. He lifts them between us. “Got it. Friendship it is, and that’s fine, really, it’s fine—”
“Can I finish?” I say. “Please?”
He nods with obvious reluctance, certain that he doesn’t want to hear what I have to say.
I step closer and look at him. “I really like you, Elijah, but I am not ready for a boyfriend. A fake one? Sure. All the making out. None of the pressure.”
He laughs under his breath, gaze still not meeting mine.
“I got burned,” I say. “That has nothing to do with you, but yes, your back-and-forth stung, and it made me realize I’m still a little too vulnerable. I get the feeling . . .” I swallow. “My last boyfriend hurt me, but that was mostly my pride and my confidence. I get the feeling you could do a whole lot more damage.”
“I wouldn’t—”
I cut him off with a quick kiss, leaning in to barely brush his lips. “I don’t mean like that. I mean I could fall for you. Really fall hard, and I’m just . . .”
“Not ready to take that chance?”
I tilt my head as I study his face. “I think you’re worth the risk. But I need you to meet my parents first. See how that goes. I’m not saying you need to trust them to be with me, but I need to know where that stands. Does that make sense?”
He nods. “It does.” He place
s his hands on my hips again. “You need me to slow down.”
“Mmm, not so much slow down as to be sure.”
“Be sure I won’t freak out and change my mind again? I won’t. But I get what you mean, and you’re right. We both need to be sure.” He moves closer, eyes right in front of mine. “You could break my heart, Kate Danvers.”
“And you could break mine.” I meet his gaze. “Nothing we can do to stop that, but at least we can make sure we get off to a good start. Get to know each other better, meet my parents, decide how you feel about them, go into this with our eyes open.”
“Perfectly reasonable.” His hands tighten on my waist. “So, I guess that means no more making out.”
“Did you miss the part about getting to know each other better?”
He chuckles. “Also reasonable,” he says, and leans in and pauses, breath tickling my lips, his brows lifted in question. I wrap my arms around his neck, cross that last quarter inch and answer that question.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Logan
Mom and Dad are due here at any moment. I’m standing outside, peering down the tree-shrouded road when I catch the rumble of an unfamiliar car. A black Mercedes appears.
“That’d be my ride,” says a voice behind me.
I turn to see Mason with his bag slung over his shoulder.
“Were you going to say goodbye before you left?” I ask.
“I am, aren’t I?”
I tense and struggle to keep my voice casual. “A last-minute wave as you climb into the car. Guess that answers the question.”
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