17. Sam

Chapter seventeen

Sam

I freeze when I walk out into the living room the next morning. I hardly slept all night, images of Adam on the ground, of the mage standing over him haunting me, and I expect to walk out and find at least Drew awake, sleepy and rumpled, and not—

Adam stirs as I stand there, blinking up at me blearily. His curls are a mess, one side of his face red where it's been pushed against the cushions. He doesn't let go of Drew and smiles when Drew grumbles, shifting even closer.

I swallow and look away. I should… I need to head out anyway. I shouldn't be here for this.

"What time is it?" Adam asks. His voice is a rough rumble and a flicker of heat flares in my stomach even as I try to fight it off.

He's made his choice. They both have.

"Still morning," I say absently. I cross to the door and pick up my shoes with sharp movements. "I need to get going."

"Where?" Adam sits up a little more and Drew grumbles again. He cups the back of Drew's neck and Drew settles immediately, though I wonder if he's waking up.

Adam smiles when he sees where I'm looking. His grip is so casually possessive. I force my gaze away.

"Wolves," Adam says, a smile in his words. "Isn't it dangerous for you to be going out?"

As if hearing his cue, Kieran comes out of his bedroom, also dressed. "Not if he goes with someone else."

"Kieran…" I begin.

"Shh, you don't want to wake him up, do you?" Kieran says with a jerk of his head in Drew's direction. I'm entirely speechless. Kieran's… okay with whatever this is? "Give me five. Just gotta use the bathroom."

He moves silently across the living room and into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Adam's still watching me.

"I'm meeting Ophelia and Dante," I say. "I've got some ideas for what we can do."

"They'll be okay with Kieran being there?"

"He's met them before. They'll get it."

Adam nods. He strokes the back of Drew's neck, the touch feather-light, and I remember sitting next to Drew the other night, doing almost the same thing. I take a step towards the sofa, one shoe still in my hand.

"Adam. What's going on?"

Adam sits up more, and this time Drew doesn't stir. "What do you mean?"

"I mean this ," I hiss, gesturing at the sofa and the two men lying on it. "We kissed! And I thought…" I trail off, irritated at the hurt in my voice. Why would he want me? Drew is soft and sweet and probably hasn't ever killed one person, let alone two.

I scowl at myself. I'm the one who said Adam and I shouldn't take things further. I'm the one who told Adam no. They've found each other, and that's—

"I'm not done with you," Adam says, interrupting my thought. A smirk that should make me mad accompanies his words. I shiver instead, feeling surprisingly unbalanced. "And Drew's not even started yet. He needed looking after last night. Did you think I'd leave him to suffer alone?"

"No. No, but I—"

"Don't you want him, too?"

I open my mouth and close it again. Is he saying…?

"He's my best friend's little brother," I say finally, when I can make my voice work again. "He's running from something. This can't be a good idea."

"Doesn't mean it's a bad one, either." Adam looks at Drew, green eyes roaming over his sleeping face. His gaze softens when I take another step closer. "It's just an idea , Sam. A feeling. If you want?"

If I want… what? The three of us together?

Now that he's said it, I can't think about anything else. Not just… I want them both, the desire so desperate it threatens to choke me. But I want to protect them, too. To comfort them.

I shake my head. Drew's still sleeping. Does he even know what Adam's thinking?

"I'm ready," Kieran says, stepping out into the living room again. I move back towards the door and pull on my shoes, cursing the heat in my cheeks.

"Adam, you can take my room," I say without looking back. "See you later."

Kieran is silent until we're on the street, and I pretend not to notice his attention on me. After a while, he lets out an amused huff and I brace myself.

"So where are we meeting them?"

"Aren't you supposed to be working today?"

He shrugs. "Called in sick. Won't be long before they sack me, but I'll work something out. It's not like I can risk any of you right now."

Guilt twists my stomach. It's not all my fault—I know that—but that doesn't make me feel any better.

"There's a café we go to sometimes," I say as the tube station appears up ahead. "Hallowed Grounds. I figured it'd be better to get out of our flat."

"It's warded?"

"Yeah," I say. "Trust me, nothing's getting us in there."

I met Ophelia first, when I was working through the second year of my part-time uni course, Kieran was working and trying to get his GCSEs, and we were both struggling to work out how we were supposed to live together.

Dante appeared in her orbit a few years later, and he was the first person to bring us here. His magic is tied to the earth in a different way to Ophelia's, so in hindsight, I'm not surprised he was drawn to it.

Kieran pulls a face as we approach Hallowed Grounds. It's not warded out to the street the way our building is, but magic radiates from it, a gentle warning to leave its occupier alone.

"You feel that?" I say.

Kieran nods. "Feels different to your magic." His eyes dart to me, then away. "Different to Ophelia and Dante's, too."

"Yeah, it is," I reply. "C'mon."

I push open the door, breathing in deep as the smell of cinnamon and coffee hits my nose. Behind me, Kieran lets out a satisfied sound. Only part of it is down to the smell and warmth, I'm certain. The feel of magic in here is stronger, pulsing, reminding us that we're safe.

Lark is moving behind the counter. He's tall and lithe, dark hair falling in a smooth wave down to his waist. He looks entirely human as he turns, but his eyes are too sharp as they move over Kieran for the first time, and besides, I can feel the outline of his glamour.

Fae recognise fae. Even if I'm human, really, the blessing is enough for me to know what he is beneath.

Dante was not pleased by my reaction the first time I came here. I got over it—well, for the most part. Sometimes he still has me on edge.

Dante's already waiting, too, sitting on the comfy sofa in the corner. He's scrolling through his phone, his now midnight-blue hair falling in his eyes. There's a steaming mug in front of him, so I lead Kieran over to the counter.

"What do you want?" I ask him, and he shrugs, eyes running over the cakes and pastries sitting behind glass. I roll my eyes, meeting Lark's amused expression. "Two teas, please."

He nods and adds them to our order. "It has been a while since you've been here."

"Yeah, been busy."

"I have heard." His eyes meet mine again, and there's warning in them, the grey so bright as to almost be quicksilver. I sigh, but Kieran speaks before I can.

"Can I get some of the chocolate cake, too?"

Lark's lips twitch. "Of course."

Kieran watches him as he makes our drinks and gets the slice of cake, his gaze assessing. I have no doubt he's worked out Lark isn't human. For someone with no actual supernatural powers, he's incredibly sensitive to our world, which I suppose isn't unexpected now that I know he grew up with wolves.

Had a fae-blessed hunter helping him, too. I rub the bridge of my nose. What's done is done. We need to solve our current problem.

Lark sets everything on a tray and as I pay, of course Kieran grabs it. He hesitates, though, as I step back, studying Lark again.

Lark lets him. There's no amusement in his face now, and he doesn't look away the way many people do under Kieran's intense gaze.

"You have anyone else working here?" Kieran asks.

Lark shakes his head. "Only me."

"And you make everything yourself?"

That gets him a twitch of the lips. Fae don't sleep much, after all. "I do."

"You need help?"

I suspect the surprised expression I'm wearing matches Lark's. He recovers faster. "Are you seeking employment?"

"Nah, not me. I can cook, but… My brother. He likes to bake. I don't know if he can make half this stuff"—he glances at the cakes again, then back to Lark—"but he can learn."

"He is human?"

"No."

They both look at each other for a moment. My heart is hammering against my ribs so fast it's almost painful. Kieran wants Drew to work here ?

I frown at the thought. That's not fair. Lark has never been anything but unfailingly polite. This is one of the safest places in the city.

"When he is ready, have him come here," Lark says. "I can discuss it further with him then."

Kieran smiles, the one that lights up his whole face and means he truly is grateful for Lark's agreement. "Great, thanks."

He takes the tray over to the table and I stand there for a few seconds longer. Lark raises an eyebrow in my direction.

"You just…"

"I did not get this far in life without knowing it is useful to have powerful people owe me a favour," Lark says. There's some slyness in his eyes now, though I know he was being honest before. "Besides, you worry for this brother of his. I see it. That means he is someone worth knowing."

I don't know what to say to any of that, so I say nothing at all, instead turning and walking over to Kieran and Dante. Dante eyes me as I approach, lips twisting in a frown.

"What happened?" he asks when I sit down.

"Can we wait until—" The bell over the door rings and we all look up as Ophelia walks in. Her dark blond hair is pinned back from her face, and she waves when she sees us, heading for the counter. I pick up my tea and drink while we wait.

"You come here a lot?" Kieran asks.

Dante nods. "I… found it first." He looks between me and Kieran as if he's trying to work out what to say. I shrug. Kieran definitely knows Lark isn't human, and Dante knows he can sense magic. "Before I met Ophelia or Sam. It made me feel safe."

Kieran nods, looking around. I have no doubt that's part of why he asked about Drew working here.

The problem is, we're still in vampire territory. Hallowed Grounds isn't super far from our flat—only one stop on the tube—but Drew's not going to be able to come here freely.

Something in my chest twists.

He's not going to be able to stay with us unless we move into wolf territory, and then what would happen with Kieran and Lucien?

Ophelia comes over with a black coffee and a cinnamon muffin, setting them down before she takes the other space on the sofa. She looks between the three of us.

"Everything good?"

I sigh. Might as well get it over with now. "The mages attacked us last night."

Her eyes go wide and Dante jerks forward, shaking his head. "You…" He looks between us.

"Not me," Kieran replies. "Sam, Lucien, and Adam."

"Are you all okay?" Ophelia's eyes are running over me as though she's checking for injuries. She's good at healing magic, which as far as I can tell isn't unusual for witches who have a shifter parent.

"Fine," I say. "I mean, they hit all three of us, but Lucien—"

"He's all right," Kieran says with a nod. His hand brushes his chest briefly, and Ophelia nods like she gets it.

"Lucien's fine. Me too. Adam… He got hit pretty hard, but I fixed him up last night. He's resting now."

"Did you learn anything from them?" Dante asks.

"Yeah. There were three of them last night. Two of them… Their magic was strange."

Ophelia frowns. "What do you mean?" She's picking apart her muffin and I wonder if she'll end up eating anything but crumbs.

"It felt like it was a mix of two different things," I say, keeping my voice low. The café isn't busy, but I know there are plenty of supernaturals who come here. "But I don't understand how."

"We already said fae magic might be involved with how they stole your signature," Ophelia points out. "Could it be that?"

"Sort of. They weren't… fae-blessed." I don't look at Kieran, though I can feel his gaze burning into the side of my face. "But they had a hint of it, I think."

"And the third one?" Dante asks.

"Nora's brother," I say. "At least I know why I was set up now."

"Fuck," Ophelia mutters. "He's after you?"

"Yeah. He got away. Took one of the others with him, but the other was outside with Adam, and I—" I snap my mouth shut. I'm not sorry for what I did. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I just don't want them to judge me for it. "He's not a problem we have to worry about anymore."

Dante goes a little pale, but Ophelia nods like she understands. "Right. So what do we do now?"

"We have one fae-blessed mage working with people who shouldn't be able to draw from the ether but can… to an extent," I say. "Is there a way to track that? Something we can do?"

Ophelia eats some of her muffin, chewing as she thinks. Dante frowns into his teacup. Kieran seems to be holding his breath next to me.

"We can take a look," Ophelia says finally. "If you had something of theirs, that'd be more helpful."

"The vampires took the other mage's body," Kieran points out. "Would something from him help?"

Dante pulls a face. "Maybe. If he had any jewellery, anything that might have held sentimental value or been on him for a long time… We could use that."

"I'll ask," Kieran says.

"Where were you attacked?" Ophelia asks, and it takes me a minute to explain where the shop is in relation to here.

"You're not thinking of going there, are you?" I say.

She shrugs, exchanging a look with Dante. "It's worth checking out. The vamps were all over it last night, right?"

"Right."

"So if we go now, odds are good no one will be there."

"There might be a hunter or two hanging about," I say.

"All the better." Ophelia's lips twitch when I look at her. "It'll put them off, probably. Seems like they're not interested in targeting whoever . We'll see if we can get a feel for their magic."

She drains the rest of her coffee to Dante's evident disgust. Like he's one to talk. I'm fairly sure his drink has barely touched caffeine. When she puts the mug back down, she nudges him in the side. "C'mon, let's get moving."

"I'll call you tonight," I say, and she nods before she ushers Dante out of the café.

I slump back in my chair and Kieran eyes me, still eating his cake.

Oh, fuck. I need to tell him. There's no better time to do it than right now. No one in here is close enough—or the right kind of supernatural enough—to overhear.

Well, except Lark. I'm sure he already knows, though.

"There's something I have to tell you," I say, and he frowns, setting his fork down.

"Is it about Adam?"

"What—No!"

"Drew, then?"

"I—" I shake my head, feeling my cheeks heat. Where would he even get the idea… We both saw Adam and Drew this morning, and even if Adam put the idea in my head, I sure as shit don't know how it got in Kieran's.

Or why he's so calm about it.

"It's about me ," I say. "Who I am."

"Oh!" Kieran's eyes widen, and he sits up a little straighter before he frowns. "Just because you know about me now, that doesn't mean—"

"Please stop talking," I say, and he goes quiet, but amusement sparks in his eyes. "I just—I don't know where to start."

No. I do. There's something Kieran already knows.

My name.

"You heard Nora, the night she and Tristan attacked us?"

Kieran nods.

"Selkirk. That's my name. My family's name. We were one of the old mage families, but everyone was killed in the mage wars."

"Everyone but you," Kieran says.

And Jasper. I don't say that aloud. I'm certain he's dead now, anyway. "Yeah. Like I said to Moreau, the Lyttons were another. I should've figured it out as soon as we knew Tristan's mage could teleport, but I just assumed they were all dead, too."

"Doesn't seem unreasonable," Kieran replies. "Why are you telling me?"

I look him in the eyes. "I assumed they were all dead because I thought I'd killed the last of them."

His eyes widen, but that's the only way he betrays his surprise at my words. Though I suppose he shouldn't be. Lucien all but told him what I did last night.

"Okay. Can I… What happened?"

I breathe in deeply and stare down at my now-empty mug to avoid his gaze. "Nora and Elliot's father killed my parents. They weren't fighters, not really. Especially not my dad. Lytton hunted them down. So I hunted him back."

"And then?" Kieran's tone is gentle, but of course it is. He has to know when I did it.

He's giving me sympathy I don't deserve.

"I surprised him. He was going to come and find me, I think, but I got there first. In my family… We trained in combat magic from being kids. I had him on his knees, and all I wanted to do, I swear, was bind his magic. My mum taught me how. I started doing it, but then—"

New magic. Different magic. Too much to hold back, too much to bear—

"If you fuck up a binding spell, it can tear a mage's magic out of them," I say, and my voice sounds hollow. "Or you can push enough magic and burn through them."

"That's what happened?"

"Yeah." I look at Kieran, and my vision blurs. He reaches for me slowly, like I'm some kind of skittish animal, but when his hand lands on my arm, I let out a choked sob.

"This isn't your fault," Kieran whispers. He leans in close, and I dig my fingers into the arms of the chair I'm sitting in. "They didn't look for you for years . We know why this is happening."

I jerk my head up. "It's not your fault, either."

His smile is lopsided. "I know."

Yeah, I think he knows it about as well as I do, and the thought makes me let out a wet laugh. I swipe at my eyes, wiping the moisture away, and Kieran squeezes my arm before he lets go.

"We need to stop this," he says, and I nod.

"Where do we start?"

"We find who framed you. That's what set Elliot off."

"It could be anyone."

Kieran shakes his head. "I don't think so. The hunters spoke to Nora during the day, right? You think they wouldn't have checked on her before the vampires arrived? Before Vasile arrived?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"We'll ask Moreau when she was last seen alive. But I have a funny feeling…"

His eyes meet mine and I swallow down the sudden nausea that rushes through me.

"A vampire did this."