Page 83 of The Devil's Waltz
I shoot him an icy glare that clearly says,enough.
“What will it take for you to talk to me?” I ask her.
She blinks at me, her cheeks flushed and her hair windswept from the cool breeze. “I don’t…Why?”
“Because,” I say in a low voice, “we need your help.”
She chokes on a laugh, which dies off when she realizes I’m not joking. Arching a brow, her voice is full of suspicion when she says, “My help forwhat, Xander?”
There’s a brief silence that hangs in the air before I say, “To send my mother back to hell.”
TWENTY-FOURCAMILLE
I have no idea how long I stand there staring at him. Time ceases to exist as his words play on a loop in my head. There’s no way I heard him correctly—right?
Otherwise, there’s no way he could possibly be serious.
“I think you broke her, mate,” Blake comments under his breath.
I shake my head, pushing through the shock induced by the weight of Xander’s words. “I don’t understand.”
He nods, stepping forward, and when I don’t pull away, he grips my chin, tilting my head back until our eyes meet. “I know you don’t trust me, but I need you to at least listen. Then, if you decide you never want to see me again, I promise you won’t.”
Should that make me feel better? Relieved, at least? Because that promise—the thought of never seeing Xander again—feels like a kick to the stomach. I glance between the demons standing in front of me, so entirely out of my element, it’s not even close to funny. “Why now?” I demand. “Why are you so suddenly ready to fight the monster you’ve been loyal to your entire life?”
“It’s not a simple answer,” Xander says, and the rigidness of his posture isn’t lost on me.
I stare at him for a moment before finally saying, “I’m listening.”
Something akin to relief passes across his face, but it’s gone too quick for me to fully decipher it.
“Perhaps we should take this off the street?” Blake suggests. “What we need to discuss isn’t something that should be out in the open.”
I push my fingers through my hair, exhaling a heavy breath. “My dad got called into work because of an attack in Brooklyn.” I can’t help the sharpness of my tone, considering the demons I’m speaking to are the same kind of monsters my dad is actively fighting.
“No way,” Blake chimes in, smacking Xander in the shoulder. “We’re not about to walk right into the den of—”
“Let’s go,” Xander cuts in, as if Blake hadn’t spoken.
I look at Blake. “He won’t be home for hours. Most likely, he’ll sleep for a few hours at Ballard and then go back into the field.” I pause. “But there’s a small complication of the hunter guarding my dad’s front door. I’ll have to distract her so you guys can get in.” Getting them out might be a little tricky, but one step at a time.
Blake keeps his hands in his pockets, shaking his head. “I trust you and your father as much as you trust us and Xander’s mother, so…” He trails off.
I shrug. “Great. Then you can stay here.”
His eyes narrow. “I’m not letting Xander walk into that place alone.”
Rolling my eyes, I mutter, “It’s a condo on the Upper West Side, not some dangerous hovel.”
“We have a room at The St. Regis. We should go there.”
They’re staying at a hotel? How long have they been in the city?
“Or, here’s an idea,” I say brightly, “You let me go home and enjoy my cake in peace, and you two work out whatever you’ve got going onwithoutme.”
“Camille,” Xander says in a smooth voice, snaring my gaze once more. “Please.”
I huff out a sigh. The anxiety creeping into my chest triggers me to attempt easing the tension threatening to suffocate me. “Fine. I’ll go with you, but we’re ordering drinks, and he’s paying for them.” I jab a finger in Blake’s direction, and he shrugs.
