Page 27 of Illusory

Of course they did. Would they even still be the Council if they weren’t lording over every damn thing from the use of our abilities to what kind of magic we were allowed to have access to? God, I hated those fuckers.

“You can use Jemma if you need to draw on more power,” offered Tessa, jutting her chin out at me. “She’s got enough juice to power half the city.”

“Is that right?” Caleb’s gaze cut to me then, his curious eyes sizing me up as though he’d just spotted a rare commodity.

“She’s exaggerating.”

“Well, I might just have to see for myself,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

Fabulous. Nothing better than being offered up by your sister like some bottomless battery pack.

“How long until it’s done?” asked Tessa, drawing his attention back to her.

“I’ll start working on the wards right away,” he informed and then tapped his hands on the counter. “I’m probably going to need to draw some blood from each of you, though.”

“That’s fine,” Tessa agreed easily. There was no surprise there since she knew that most protection spells required a blood offering of some sort.

“I’ll need Trace’s too,” he added cautiously, his desert-yellow eyes rife with apprehension. “Is he going to be able to…you know, handle that right now?”

Tessa and I exchanged glances. If my prior exchange with him was any indication, it probably wasn’t going to go over very well with him.

“That won’t be a problem,” answered Jaqueline, sounding very sure of herself despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. “Gabriel will procure it for you before you leave.”

“Great.” He drummed his hands against the counter again but didn’t move or say anything else after that. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought he was stalling. And then I realized that was exactly what he was doing.

“You can go see him, you know,” I offered, motioning toward the hallway. “Gabriel’s keeping watch down there so it’s perfectly safe.”

“Eh, come on, Blackburn. Rev or not. You know I’m not scared of that Halfbreed Pretty Boy.” He met my eyes and smiled, but it was small and forced. “Besides, Ben’s down there with him now. I figured I should give them some time to catch up—best friends and all.”

“For sure.” I smiled back at him despite the swollen lump in my throat.

We averted our gazes for a few moments as an awkward silence stretched through the kitchen before he finally worked up the courage to meet my eyes again. And then he asked the question that had probably been plaguing him since themoment he’d heard the news. “Is he alright?”

I tightened the hold I had on myself and answered him honestly. “No, Cale. He’s not.”

“Yeah.” He nodded again, his frown still firmly set in place. “That’s what I figured.”

9. THE PRICE OF KNOWING

I scowled down at the red drops of blood steadily trickling out from my clenched fist, watching as my blood slowly pooled in the center of the waiting crystal tumbler. Ben was sitting beside me at the kitchen table, rambling on about some vampire episode ofThe X-Fileshe’d watched the night before as I tried to recall the last time we’d used these particular tumblers for an actual drink.

How strange my life had become that drinkware in this house was used more frequently for collecting blood than it was for drinking out of.

At least we weren’t using the nice salad bowls.

“I told Trace I’d bring over the first two seasons on DVD,” he informed, recapturing my attention with the mention of Trace’s name. “He can binge-watch them while he’s, uh, getting used to things.”

My gaze cut to him, and I faltered. I hadn’t even worked up the nerve to ask him how his visit with Trace had gone since he’d swapped places with Caleb and joined me in the kitchen. I’d assumed it had gone better than my earlier attempt since Trace hadn’t shouted in disgust athimand then forced him to leave the basement in tears.

Apparently, that was ameproblem.

As difficult as it was for me to swallow the knowledge that he was okay with literally everyone other than me, it still gave me some solace because at least that meant he wasn’t alone. He wasn’t so far gone that there wasn’t any hope of him ever coming back to himself—to the man he was before I had him Turned.

“That’s really nice of you, Ben,” I said, even though I knewTrace wasn’t going to watch a single episode of it. Other than learning to control his bloodlust with Gabriel and my mini fridge of donor blood, all he did down there was stew in the darkness and blast angry music that sounding like the death cry of a squealing pig.

“What can I say? I’d never give up the chance to turn someone onto the best show ever created,” he said, smiling back at me. Despite his upbeat demeanor and casual conversation, I could still see the unease lurking behind his soft brown eyes. I could see it in the way his smile hadn’t quite made it all the way up to his eyes. He was just as worried about Trace as I was, and for some reason, that only made me feel worse about everything.

Nobody knew Trace better than Ben did, and if Ben was worried, I knew it wasn’t just me overreacting.

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