Page 54 of Our Covenant

“Then I’ll leave you with one last admonition: Our blood is our history and our future. Do not spill it for the wrong reasons.”

The muscles of Maddox’s face relax and his eyes shift from pure black to his usual ocean blue. And any hope of answers to the million questions I have die in the chilled air between us.

25

MADDOX

Being possessed by my grandfather wasn’t on my fucked-up BINGO card for this week. Jonathan Elwell vacated my body after he’d given Thorne a warning, but the words he left me with were just as cryptic. Your fear is not cowardice. It is rage. Feed it.

Visits from our ancestors outside the ritual chamber are rare, but not rare enough. Papa Jon never was one for peace, and his last words were: “May all those who mourn me carry my ill will to their own graves.”

Thorne sits rigidly in the driver’s seat, his knuckles showing the tension still brewing in his head. I could relieve him of it, ask him his thoughts and let his vitriol pour out until we get back to the manor, but the lull of the engine and sound of tires on the asphalt highway are more appealing.

When the familiar, dark, pebbled driveway comes into view, my muscles ease. Though, the storm clouds looming over the dark shingles don’t bode well for my plan to lock myself in my room for the rest of the evening. The fall weather is unpredictable this late in the season, but I know those clouds are congregating because of Fox.

“Well, looks like we missed something while we were away,” Thorne says, parking his car and getting out as soon as the engine dies.

He’s through the front door before I can step outside into the blistering wind. It doesn’t feel like a warning, but a welcome. Like the atmosphere around the manor is telling me to go inside, sit by the fire, and sink into its warmth. But when I walk inside, Fox and Thorne are whisper-yelling at each other in the drawing room.

“How could you let that happen?” Thorne asks, looking over his shoulder at me and waving me over to bring me into their conversation. “You’re not going to believe what fuckery we’ve come home to.”

Fox digs circles into his temples with his fingers, the nerves getting to him. “I don’t think she meant for it to happen, but it’s like whatever magic she does possess is trying to connect with ours. We need to⁠—”

“What do you want us to do? All take turns fucking her until she drains one of us dry just to prove you right?” Thorne’s voice rises. His silence about Elsbeth during our outing break like a dam. “You shouldn’t have let her touch you. What were you thinking?”

“Obviously, I wasn’t,” Fox retorts.

“A heads-up would have been nice. We wouldn’t have taken so long if you had called or texted or something, Fox. What the fuck?” Thorn pinches the bridge of his nose, frustration mounting to a boiling point.

I should be surprised by the context of the disagreement, but I’m not. I haven’t stopped thinking about what it would be like to kiss, touch, and worship that woman since the second I saw her. Whatever her magic, it’s more powerful than any siren.

“She tried to seduce me,” Fox admits, defeat and embarrassment marring his features.

“Tried?” Thorne yells. “You fingered her in the library!”

I have to stifle a laugh. “That’s all?”

“Maddox, what the fuck?” Thorne rounds on me.

“He had all day alone with her.” I shrug. “If she wanted more than that, she would have gotten it.”

Both Fox and Thorne’s faces go red for very different reasons.

Thorne walks over to the coatrack, finally depositing his jacket but pocketing his keys. It’s the first time I realize that all of our rings are missing from the hooks on the wall. Is that because Thorne is worried that Elsbeth will try to escape or because I might?

After what happened at Edmund’s estate, I have to admit to myself that this precaution is valid. But there’s something more pressing keeping me within our hallowed walls.

There’s a flash of auburn hair that disappears around the corner. We should have known she’d be somewhere listening.

“Don’t lecture me about what I should and shouldn’t do unless you want to hand over your little keepsake.” Fox holds out his palm expectantly. My mind goes back to Asher’s family home and the chain hanging from Thorne’s pocket.

“It’s carrying magic,” he shouts. “I’m trying to figure out how to open it.”

If there is truth in his statement, he’s been working tirelessly on the task all day. On the ride into Boston, he kept his hand in his pocket, concealing it until we were driving back from Edmund’s. Whether he thought I was too distracted to notice or he needed more than just to touch the locket to soothe himself, he held it the entire drive home.

The floor creaks behind me, and I turn just enough to see Elsbeth out of the corner of my eye. I step backwards into the hallway and see that she’s plastered her back to the wall. She raises one finger to her lips in a hush. I nod, pointing my chin to the end of the hall toward the kitchen. She obeys the silent request, and I follow her into the twilight that’s washing the room in pale orange light.

Fox and Thorne are still talking, but their tones sound more defeated than angry now. Elsbeth stops at the edge of the kitchen island and presses her back to its marble edge. She wraps her arms around herself, and I can feel the verbal self-defense tensing in the air between us.