Page 70 of Marked By Night

“I did. Thanks for asking.”

Dante and I exchange a glance and those hellish eyes draw me in. They’re so fascinating, the way they dance and crackle, almost like the fire he wields in his hands.

Elian snaps, interrupting our moment. “We have business on the agenda today.” He steeples his inked fingers on the table, the epitome of calm. “As of this morning, I still haven’t heard back from the Light Weavers. Now, I don’t want to assume anything until I hear back from him, but we need to be cautious until we learn more. I don’t like unknowns.”

I snort. That’s an understatement and I barely even know the guy. The amount of restraint he must have. I wonder, does that carry over into the bedroo—Nope, don’t finish that thought, Sadie.

Before anything else can be said, Vinson and two other butlers I’ve never seen before file into the room, carrying trays piled high with food. No one speaks while they sit the food down and then leave as soundlessly as they came.

My eyes bounce between each man at the table incredulously. None of them pay any attention to me while they dig in, piling everything onto their plates. Being served breakfast by the staff? I’ve most definitely waltzed into the twilight zone.

“Agreed,” Kaos says after he’s finished grabbing his food. He looks over at my empty plate and frowns, exchanging my empty one for his stacked one. Then he starts all over again. When I raise an eyebrow all he says is, “Our mate deserves to eat first.”

I’m not going to argue, but I’m not used to men caring for me like this. It’s been me and Ash against the world for so long, and before that, it was me and Skylar. I think I’ve forgotten how nice people can be.

“What’s the deal with them?” I ask. “The Light Weavers, I mean.”

“As you know, they’re the opposite of us. They draw their powers from the sun and daylight while we draw ours from the moon and shadows,” Kaos replies.

“I gathered that already,” I say around a mouthful of a biscuit—get this—with jelly already on it. Yep, someone already put the jelly on there for me. Speaking of jelly, I need to ask about their business. “Who are they and why do they want me?”

Elian eyes my full mouth in disgust. “We’re technically at war with them, but we made a pact with their future leader not to engage in fights. They leave our Circle alone and vice versa. Obviously, something has changed. Perhaps they want you for themselves.” He pauses to dab his mouth with a napkin. “But that would be preposterous. Light and Night don’t mix. It’s forbidden.”

“Back up. There’s a war?”

Elian exhales heavily, casting a glance in my direction that looks a lot like pity—but that would be ridiculous coming from him. “Yes, our Elders started a war with them a few years ago, although, no one knows exactly why. We’ve always coexisted, despite our differences until recently.”

These Elder folks continue to get better and better. By that, I mean they make me want to whip a switchblade out and slit their throats.

“Let me get this straight. Your people are at war with a similar group of people—who have similar powers, but no one knows why?” He nods, tilting his head to the side in thought. “Why would anyone agree to that? Who goes to war without a known cause?” I direct my question toward Kaos, figuring he’ll be the most honest and contemplative.

He shrugs. “We don’t know, and we don’t agree with hating them over our differences. That’s why we have a treaty with their future leader, but we can’t get ahold of him, so he’s either broken our agreement and he’s ignoring us, or something far more sinister is going on.”

Wonderful.

Elian turns his attention to Kaos, curling his inked fingers around his coffee mug as he takes a sip. There’s a rose on the back of his hand and a knife going through his pointer finger. There are also three lines wrapped around his ring finger. It makes me wonder what they symbolize.

“What’s the status on the information you’re hunting? Any luck with the archives?” he asks.

“Nothing concrete yet, but I’m still searching.”

“What information?” I interject.

Elian sighs. “We’re searching for answers about your powers. There’s never been anyone in our lifetime that can do what you did to the Elites the other day. Small telekinesis powers like lifting a book, yes. But flipping two vehicles and stopping a third? No.”

His statement makes my stomach churn. What the hell makes me so different? I don’t like it. Bad guys always hunt the different ones, the powerful ones, because we’re their worst nightmares. People like my uncle like to break the strong-willed, like the porcelain plate at Harborview; shatter their souls so they’ll never be strong again.

They can try to anyway. I broke after Skylar died, but never again. I fitted those jagged pieces back together, and I’ll continue to fight until my last breath.

“Now,” he starts. “Next week you’re going to start training with Kaos and Dante. You need to hone in your powers and learn to defend yourself so what happened at the concert doesn’t happen again.”

Outrage flits through me and I choke on a piece of bacon. Did this motherfucker call me weak? I’ll fucking show him weak.

I stand, pushing my chair back. “Fuck you, Elian,” I spit. “If you didn’t notice, I was handling things perfectly fine.”

“If by fine you mean letting those weaklings almost bond you to their Circle against your will, then sure,” he sneers.

The anger takes hold of me and I snatch my butter knife from the table. Before anyone can even blink, I’m rearing back and throwing it in his direction with all the extra strength I can muster.

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