Page 70 of Claimed By Fangs and Darkness
After the next round of questioning, Evie gasped.
“The person that fled—their note said I had beautiful eyes,” she said.
I whipped my head around. “What? I mean, you do, but?—”
“Yeah, yeah. You want to murder them for noticing,” she said impatiently.
I smirked. “Are my unhinged antics really that predictable to you? I need to try harder.”
“Eyes,” she repeated, as if that word was supposed to illuminate everything.
Her own eyes were shut, and her knees were pulled to her chest. I set down my tools and walked closer.
Her frown deepened, opening her mouth and then closing it. She took a shaky inhale. “Whoever killed Princeton had carved out his eyes,” she said softly. “Were they ever found?”
My heart sank, all humor evaporating in the space between us.
“No. They were never found.”
I didn’t missthe several pairs of nervous gazes on Evie as we moved through the underground, nor did I miss her hurt defensiveness. The doors to the main deliberation room closed behind us as we entered.
In the aftermath of the unthinkable, tensions were high. Everyone wanted answers. There were potential recruits in that building. Comrades and friends. Innocent mortals and professors who’d been fighting the good fight.
I couldn’t shake the intuition that something was unraveling, something I couldn’t entirely control.
And I fucking hated that feeling. It wasn’t one I was willing to accept.
I pulled Evie into my lap at the head of the long table. There wasn’t a space for her yet, which had been an oversight on my part. But I wasn’t going to complain about the solution.
Surprisingly, Evie didn’t fight me. Beneath her façade of innocence, Evie had a cunning streak. Perhaps she saw the advantage of being so close to me in this critical moment.
She was also coming down from our temporary distractions, the horror of the day hitting her hard. My closeness was a comfort to her.
Blade spoke first, a deep grief in his voice—a grief that permeated through the entire city. “There are reports of water turning to blood, more creatures from Lillian’s underworld roaming the streets, and magick that doesn’t belong to this realm. The general sentiment is leaning toward a portal or a tear between worlds.” Blade paused dramatically. “It’s as if the gods themselves are at war.”
A hush fell over the room. We’d all read myths about the gods and their wars before they left our world to occupy the heavens and hells. Mythological beasts, natural disasters, magick that no witch or vampire could compete with were described in various ancient texts.
Evie stirred, and I could almost sense her eagerness to speak. But she didn’t.
“We made great progress in eliminating Servants of Lillian who’d infiltrated the city before the born took over,” Commander Brooks said. “We never came across power like this.”
A newer inner circle member, a woman rich in magicks of poison and illusion, spoke. “Do we even have records of magick that can turn water to blood? Make blood rain from the sky? Outside of myths about Lillian?” Nala’s gaze moved to Evie cautiously. “Couldyoudo something like that?”
My fingers traced soothing circles on Evie’s shoulder.
“Maybe,” Evie said honestly. “Bending nature requires sacrifice, as well as a great deal of energy and effort. It’s hard to imagine that a single person is doing all of this—that they have enough power and access, let alone permission and allies from the otherworld.”
“I know this fits in perfectly with the borns’ propaganda,” Nala said, slightly cutting Evie off in a way that irritated me. “But could they have somehow opened a portal? Could the gods truly be involved?”
“Princeton and Evie are rare,” Blade added. “There’s one chaos witch like them in every what? A hundred thousand?”
“Way more,” I murmured.
“If this deity, Hekate, is involved…” Commander Lachlan said, letting his words trail off.
“She’s not involved. Not likethat,” Evie said. “This isn’t Lillian either. Lillian might be lending her influence and magick, but only through a witch.”
The room was focused on her now, and no one interrupted.
