Page 32 of A Dagger of Twisted Starlight

“That’s fucking weird,” Blake said.

“She mentioned ‘people.’ Think there’s a group?” Cassius asked.

“Good question. I’ve got no idea.” I went back to the search listings and scrolled down to the bottom. An article caught my attention. It was from a news channel covering a collection of different local groups. It was for the Sunday morning news, so the piece was mostly fluff, interviewing a baking club made of vampires who used blood in their bakes to a group of fae and shifters that got together to do yoga with goats.

One group was organizing to “reminisce and reflect on the power of time,” which immediately caught my attention.There were photos of various kinds of people gathered around picnic tables at the park, talking together and eating BBQ. Many had the symbols visibly worn on their clothes; some had it tattooed on their arms and legs.

I scrolled to another picture and froze. It was the same group, but they gathered around one individual. He had his arms out and his chest puffed. There was an air of control oozing from him, even through the screen.

But what really made me freeze was the man’s eyes. Blood-red. Focused. Hungry. Powerful. Face still twisted between wolf and man.

“Look, it’s the same shifter that attacked me at the Kind Gala.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Blake placed a hand over his mouth.

“Does it say who he is?” Cassius asked.

“Nothing. This is the only photo that even shows him.”

Blake leaned forward and scanned the page. “It doesn’t mention any names at all.”

I got an idea, scrolling up to the top of the article. “What about the journalist? Maybe we can contact them and see if they have any information. Maybe they signed release forms.”

“Genius,” Blake said, rubbing my back. His touch and praise was a reward I didn’t know I was seeking. But damn did it feel good to get it. I jotted down the name of the journalist and took screenshots of the web page and the symbol. That’s when a text buzzed into my phone.

“It’s from Damien,” I said. “Dinner’s ready.”

Blake stretched his arms over his head. The sleeves of his light blue shirt fell down, a tuft of armpit hair showing.

Damn. That turned me on. I swallowed and shut my laptop. “I’ll message the journalist. See what they say.”

“We’ve got this,” Cassius said. He stood between us and threw his arms around our shoulders. “Now, let’s go get some food. I’m starving.”

Family dinner was a relatively new thing for us. We’d always been a tightly knit rainbow flight of siblings. Of course we had our fights (namely me with Madds, but could I really be blamed when he had a boulder for a head?), but nothing ever serious enough to fracture us.

Dawn suggested it the evening after Maddox and Caleb had made a harrowing escape from what would have otherwise been an underwater tomb. Our family had experienced much too many close calls. So that night, when we were all gathered together, safe and sound, Dawn tossed out the idea of making it a ritual.

And so far, it had stuck.

The dining room was loud with the thrum of lively conversation and clinks of glasses and silverware. My mouth watered from the sweet scent of honey-baked ham and spiced garlic rice that filled the air.

I grabbed my usual seat near the head of the table. Blake sat next to me, chatting it up with Robby. Something caught my attention from their conversation.

“Shades?” I asked.

Shades were never a reassuring dinner conversation. They were the embodiments of the Chaos King himself. Monstrous creatures draped in black cloth the texture of shade, with spider-like appendages and nightmarish mouths that weredesigned to siphon out someone’s intestines through whatever orifice they latch onto first.

“It looks like they’re getting bolder,” Robby said. His vampire teeth glinted in the bright light from the modern chandelier hanging above the long dinner table. “There’s reports of them attacking out in public spaces. An entire concert in the Hollywood Bowl had to be evacuated because of one. Two people died. Could have been way worse.”

“It could have,” I said.

Claire, Dawn’s girlfriend and close family friend, leaned over Robby. “I’ve been hearing whispers. It’s not looking good out there.”

“Could it have something to do with the paintings?” Caleb asked. He had been with Maddox when they destroyed the Moriarty paintings, said to reveal the location of one of the locks of the Chaos King’s cell. “Maybe with us destroying them, it knocked something out of balance?”

Claire cocked her head. She steepled her fingers, golden polish shimmering. “Maybe… I think I want to look into it some more. What exactly happened when you guys destroyed the paintings?”

“Chaos,” Maddox said, jumping into the story. He had an arm around the back of Caleb’s chair. “There was that massive quake, and the glass amphitheater started to crack. I knew the ocean was about to swallow us whole, so I shifted and saved Caleb.”

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