Page 38 of Shadow's End

Her gaze met mine as I approached, her blue eyes and her expression carefully neutral. I pulled out a chair and sat down, my back to the window but feeling no warmer for the heat already radiating from the glass.

I raised a privacy screen to ensure our conversation wasn’t overheard by the nearest gossip brigade members, who were already casting speculative glances our way, then crossed my arms on the table and leaned forward casually.

A movement that belied the tension radiating through me. “What do you want, Karleen?”

She smiled, though it was a flat, thin-lipped thing that never touched the corners of her eyes. “I came to offer you a deal. A truce, if you will.”

“What makes you think I’d ever be interested in anything you could offer? What makes you think I would ever trust you—” I cut the rest off and sucked back the anger. I couldn’t release it. Not here. Not in front of all these people. Which was probably why she’d chosen to come here rather than do this at the compound. She’d already done enough damage to her reputation in the eyes of the pack. Now she was trying to ruin mine.

It was possible I was being too harsh on her, but … I doubted it.

“What makes you think I want a truce?”

“For the sake of our family, I think it is needed.”

“You’re not my family. You willneverbe my family.”

“My dear girl, you are marrying my son. Whether I like it or not—and I certainly don’t, as you’re well aware—that makes us a family in pack eyes.”

I opened my mouth, then snapped it closed again and leaned back in the chair and studied her for a minute. I could see the tension in her. See the displeasure. “Ciara made you do this, didn’t she?”

Surprise flicked through her expression before the neutral mask settled back into place. “She cannotmakeme do anything. Aside from the fact I am—was—alpha, I’m also her mother.”

“And yet you’re here because of her.”

Her nod was a short, sharp, angry motion. “We had a discussion.”

The emphasis she placed on “discussion” suggested it had more than likely been an argument. “About what?”

It wasn’t hard to guess what it had been about, but there was a vicious little part inside of me that wanted to hear her say it out loud.

And the angry gleam that flared briefly in her eyes suggested she knew it. “About you. About my … attitude to you.”

Oh, to have been a fly on the wall for that one.

“Which attitude are we talking about? The one that hates all witches because some psycho witch bastard raped your sister when you were both teens and she subsequently died in childbirth? Or the one that believes our daughter will be born an abomination?”

“I never said?—”

“Yeah, you did. Maybe not so much to anyone beyond the confines of your pack, but you certainly thought it.” I gave her a sweet smile that was anything but. “You forget how very well Belle reads minds.”

Her gaze narrowed. “I thought there was some sort of code amongst telepaths not to randomly read minds?”

“Depends on the telepath and the mind. It’s much like the whole ‘threefold’ rule that applies to us witches. For some, on rare occasions, the cost of spell bounce back is worth the price of getting a little retribution.”

The flicker in her eyes suggested she hadn’t missed the implication. But then, while she was many things, she wasn’t dumb.

She drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. “Listen, I no more want this than you do. But Ciara is right. We are family. We must find a way to make this work.”

She might be right, but I wasn’t in a forgiving mood. Maybe it was the tiredness. Maybe it was just the desperate need for a little payback, but I nevertheless rose and leaned forward until my face was inches from hers. I could smell the scent of the soap she’d used that morning—lilac, with just a touch of honey—andthe lingering hint of coffee on her breath. Saw the brief flare of surprise in her eyes and the ripple of anger through her aura. She didn’t like being challenged, not in any way, but she didn’t rise. Didn’t make any sort of move, in fact.

Ciara’s words had had more impact than she’d admitted.

“We will find a means of making it work when you fucking apologize and actuallymeanit. Until then, neither I nor our daughter will have anything to do with you.” I paused, smiled sweetly, and motioned to the empty coffee cup sitting to her left. “That’s on the house. Feel free to have another or even leave. I don’t care.”

And with that, I dismissed the privacy screen and walked away from her. She picked up her bag and left.

As the small bell above the door merrily announced her departure, the anger and perhaps a little self-recrimination began. I shouldn’t have said any of that really, but, damn it, this was too important to compromise. Mydaughterwas too important to compromise. At the very least she owed me and Aiden a goddamn apology for everything she’d said and done.

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