“I want to know how they found Delia,” Arik said. “It makes me wonder if they’re using their own hunter mage?”
I hadn’t thought of that. But there were certainly mercenary mages out there. There were mercenary everything. Those whose allegiance wasn’t to the crown, but to the highest bidder.
“Does your mother have a grave, Little One?” Zandren asked, his big arm wrapped tightly around Omaera.
She nodded. “Yes. Delia and I visited it often when I was younger. I still go a few times a year though. I haven’t been in about four months. Why?”
“Start there,” Zandren said.
Bauer and Arik nodded.
“We’ll need an address for the gravesite.” Bauer pulled out his phone and waited for Omaera to rattle off the address.
“All right,” Arik said. “Stay here and wait for further instruction. We won’t take long, but we’re going to go to the gravesite, Delia’s house, and follow any trail we can interpret from here.” He leveled his brown gaze on Omaera. “We’ll find your friend. I promise.”
It wasn’t lost on anybody that he didn’t say alive.
Fresh tears flowed down Omaera’s cheeks, and she swallowed. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Arik and Bauer nodded, then headed out, leaving Zandren, Maxar, Omaera, and I alone.
“Drink your tea, Little One,” Zandren said, picking up the mug from the coffee table and handing it to her. “It’ll help.”
She sipped it gingerly, the tears still trickling down her cheeks.
“I’m going to make some calls to other mages, see if they know of any mercenary mages and if they might be working with the demons,” Maxar said, pulling out his phone. “If there is a mage helping them, I’ll burn them to ash myself.” He put the phone to his ear and wandered out to the balcony.
I glanced at Omaera, feeling more helpless by the second.
“I um . . . I’m going to make a call too,” I said, pulling out my phone. Maybe Raver knew something. He seemed to have his ear to the ground on both nefarious and non-nefarious things. He liked to ride that edge between the wrong side and the right side like a tightrope walker.
And even if Raver knew nothing, I was soothing my own self-loathing by appearing to help.
Right now, there probably wasn’t a vampire alive that hated themselves more than I did. And yet, if given the chance to go back and make things right, I’d probably make the same decision all over again. Because my mate was just that sweet and I was already going through withdrawals.
Omaera was a drug. And I was an addict.
An addict who never wanted to quit her, despite how much she hated me.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Zandren
My heart ached for Omaera and her pain.
If I could take it away and make it my pain, I would in an instant.
But that wasn’t how things worked. Not even if we mated, could I absorb her pain. I would certainly feel it more intensely than I did now, but I wouldn’t be able to diminish it or take it on myself.
How were mates supposed to protect each other if we couldn’t take away their suffering?
So I did what I could.
I held her.
I made her tea.
I let her cry as hard and as loud as she needed to.