Page 174 of Without a Trace
The bottle had made its rounds again. And again.
The fire had burned low, just embers and shadows now. The ocean hush behind it. Zeke tossed a twig into the glowing coals, eyes flickering orange. Rhett sat across from me, half-asleep.
The tequila didn’t numb everything.
But it sure as hell made me bolder.
I was warm, not from the tequila—though that helped. From them. From the fucking mess we were living.
But under the buzz and firelight, something tugged.
A hollow space I couldn’t name.
There were memories I couldn’t reach.
Edges that felt worn down, like someone had scraped them clean.
I took another sip and looked around at all of them.
The Hollow Order.
My enemies. My protectors. My fuck-ups. My family.
Their tattoos marked them. Sworn to the Hollow Order.
But me?
I was something else. The Red Veil’s heir. Their opposite. Their balance. Their fucking curse, maybe.
I ran my thumb along the rim of the bottle, then looked up. “Does the Order resent you for being tied to me?”
Kane shifted, the firelight catching on his profile. Rhett’s glass hovered near his lips, untouched. Alden stayed still, but the tension in his shoulders said enough.
Zeke was the first to speak. “They didn’t expect it. You weren’t supposed to survive, let alone be... her.”
My chest pulled tight. “But they knew I was alive.”
“We knew someone was out there. But the Red Veil went dark when your bloodline vanished. There were whispers. A chance.”
“But no proof,” I murmured.
“We didn’t expect you,” Alden said, voice low. “And we sure as hell didn’t expect... this.”
He didn’t say the word bond.
“And none of you thought to tell me?”
Rhett winced. “It wasn’t that simple.”
“Because of the bloodline?” I asked, voice sharper now. “Or because I was the missing piece no one wanted to find?”
My eyes drifted to Trace. “And what—do they hate that it’s me? That it’s not someone they picked?”
Rhett leaned forward, forearms on his knees. “They’re not thrilled two of us got tied to the heir of their enemy’s line, no.”
“It was never supposed to happen,” Zeke said. “The bonds are ancient. Rare. Uncontrollable.”
“Sounds like bad planning,” I muttered.
