Page 6 of Of Flame and Fury
I release the breath I held too long. “Tell me Aric’s not going all psycho.” My head jerks in Gemini’s direction when he doesn’t answer me. “Gemini. This isn’t funny. He’s scaring the absolute tar out of me.”
Sparky releases an involuntary jolt. Only then Gemini regards me. “Aric will do whatever he has to, to protect Celia. We all will.”
I hug Sparky to me, trying to settle her. If Gemini is trying to make me feel better, it doesn’t work. “We’re all going to die,” I reply. “Awesome.”
Genevieve approaches Aric first, bowing slightly and repeating the gesture when Aric introduces theweresaccompanying him. He and thewereelite were likely inspecting the grounds prior to their startling entrance.
As the presumption of bloodshed fades, the murmurs resume and the tension lifts. I imagine it mirrors medieval times following a trial; heads roll, or they don’t, and the crowd disperses with promises to see one another at the next flogging.
My head tilts in the direction of the kitchen when Sparky gives a twitch. The tightness in my heart eases. Celia is here.
I hurry away, needing to see her and assure that she’s safe. “I’ll be back,” I call to Gemini over my shoulder. His brows knit. He doesn’t seem to understand my rush. Odd. His link to Celia as his alpha’s mate should alert him of her presence. I open my mouth to tell him, but quickly shut it, knowing my announcement will draw more than Gemini’s attention.
A team of Lesser witches hurry ahead of me and into the kitchen where the scents of rosemary, lamb, and simmering pots of shellfish drift into the hall. I almost expect to find Celia in the kitchen with how anxious Sparky appears to lead me there. But then she gives another twitch, and I’m urged away from the sound of banging pans and delectable aromas.
My eyes scan the short hall I’m led to, keeping alert when I pass several small suites and an alcove overlooking the path that leads to the lake. We were given a tour of Genevieve’s manor when it was first under construction, again at its completion, and a few days prior to our arrival. I still can’t pinpoint where I am. There are several hundred rooms, from luxury suites to places of magical study, offices, and libraries, and two other kitchens.
I turn into another hall, and again onto another, the spells designed to disorient having little effect on Sparky.
The echoes of my tapping feet reverberate loudly as I leave the crowd of guests far behind. It feels like I’m headed back into the direction of the main kitchen when I pass another classroom. I round the corner and find my youngest sister, Emme, and our friend, Bren.
Everywerepresent is either patrolling in their beast form or in formal attire. Not Bren. As a formerlone, Bren couldn’t give a damn about rules and appearances. He’s dressed in dark pants and his best flannel shirt. I’m guessing his roommate, Danny, had a say since Bren isn’t in full-out sweats, and his moppy head of curls is somewhat kempt. Bren likes to dress in clothes that are easy for his wolf to tear through. Fine by me. I don’t want anything to hold him back if his beastie wants to come out and play.
Emme, conversely, tends to dress in clothes that reflect her soft and gentle demeanor, making her appear younger than her twenty-four years. Tonight, my little sister appears more mature than I’ve ever seen her.
The smooth fabric of her lavender gown hugs her small curves, and her wavy blond hair is tied in a tight French twist, revealing her fair and angelic features even as she pegs Bren with one hell of a frown.
Emme crosses her arms and holds her ground, keeping still despite her tendency to shuffle her feet when she’s nervous or on edge. My sweet sister possesses the ability to heal and is a powerful telekinetic. She seems readying to use the latter on Bren and send him through the wall.
“You want to talk about this, now?” he asks, growling hard enough to shake his chest.
His growls take me aback. He’s always used care with Emme. “When else are we going to talk about it?” she asks. “You’re avoiding me, and it’s not right.”
Bren swipes his large hand down his face, scratching his beard like he does when he’s frustrated. His growls cease, and guilt etches across the mask of anger he’s trying to hold. “Em, it’s not like that,” he says. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Then, what are you doing?” I ask.
For someone with the best nose in the pack, he didn’t notice my presence. He growls, caught off guard, relaxing only when he sees it’s just me. I pegged them for mates a while back. The way they were acting, and that kiss they’d once confessed to, had me convinced. Now, I’m not sure.
“I didn’t sense you coming, T,” Bren offers. “Whatever spell these witches cast is doing a number on me.”
“Sure, it is,” I say. Something is doing a number on Bren. I think it’s whatever he feels or doesn’t feel for Emme.
I look to Emme. She bows her head, trying to hide her deepening blush. I ram my hands on my hips. “I’m tired of finding the two of you this way, barely friends, barely something more. What is up with you two?” Neither answers, which annoys me more.
“For crying out loud,” I grumble. “Are you sleeping together?”
Again, silence.
If I were a cat, my back would arch, and every tiny strand of fur would stand on its end. “Areyou having sex?”
Bren’s demeanor shifts from frustrated to furiously defensive. “It’s not like that, T.”
“You keep saying that,” I remind him. “Then what is it exactly?” All right. None of this is good. Mates are drawn to each other with a connection that can’t be flicked on and off on a whim. This…I don’t know what this shit is.
“Just tell me what’s going on, already,” I urge. “Whatever you’re experiencing is taking a toll on both of you.”
“You’re seeing more than there is,” Emme replies quietly. “And now isn’t the time to convince you or him.” She makes it a point not to look at Bren. “Celia is here. We need to take care of her.”