Chapter 6

Six

My father couldn't find the amulet, and neither could my mother. It was gone, and that meant until I learned whatever techniques my mother had been talking about earlier in the gym, it was going to stay gone.

I had to admit, I'd been sitting with a knot in my stomach the entire day. The things my mother had said to me, and the way she had said them, had really struck a chord. It wasn't often that I walked away from an argument with her feeling like she was right, but this time was different.

She was right.

I had been reckless, and foolish, and for what? So I could give Max a decent twenty-first birthday… or so I could see Him again? I couldn't admit to myself having purely selfish motives for going out last night, but the longer I sat in solitude thinking about it, the bigger the knot in my stomach became.

Whatever the motive, and wherever the amulet was, I had to put it all aside, because we were preparing ourselves to receive the Diaboli family. Max and I were in the study, sitting nervously, waiting. We had barely said a word to each other all day, leaving me to wonder if I had done something to upset him, or if he was just really hungover.

Probably a little of both.

I opened my mouth. "What do?—"

"—I think?—"

We both spoke at the same time. "You first," I said.

He reached for the glass of water on the coffee table, sipped it, and set the glass back down. "I think I'm never drinking again," he said.

Smiling, I nodded. "You're going to say that a lot."

"I mean it. I'm done. One night was enough."

"So, you're not mad at me?"

He looked at me and frowned. "Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?"

"I don't know… because I screwed up last night."

Max shrugged. "They'll find it," he said. "Or you'll find it. It'll turn up… I know it will."

"And if it doesn't?"

He placed a hand on my shoulder. "It will," he said, a glimmer of light in his eye. "You'll find it."

My mother appeared in the archway leading out of the study and into the main hall. She looked taller than normal, confident, and her demeanor gave away none of the day's anxieties. Her stern gaze, though, was as cold as ice.

"They're here," she said, her words curt and short. "We will greet them at the door."

Max and I got up. My mother didn't wait for us at the entrance to the study, turning around instead and moving out of sight.

"Ready?" I asked Max.

"No," he said. "You?"

"I guess we'll find out. C'mon."

Together we left the study to follow our mother. She wasn't far. The door to the study led out into the main hall, which connected to the grand staircase in front of the foyer. The outer door was shut, but I could hear a car pulling up along the driveway, tires crunching on the gravel road.

I took up my position beside my mother. Max filed in next to me. Our mother looked at us both, eyes scanning up and down. "You went with your hair loose?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.

I suddenly felt like I had forgotten to wear pants. "I thought it looked better…" I offered.

She made a sound, then; a kind of full stop that came from behind her pursed lips.

Great.

Super motherly.

I heard my father's footsteps before I saw him. He came rushing down the stairs, fastening the buttons on his shirt cuffs as he descended. He didn't give me a cold shoulder, or a disapproving look. Instead, he nodded at the three of us as he went past.

A few moments earlier, I had felt him use his magic; likely to lower our mansion's defenses to let the Diaboli in. I could see the concern in his eyes. He was putting on a brave face, but I could see the tension in his clenched jaw and jumpy movements.

He felt vulnerable, and that made a lot of sense in the circumstances, but it only served to heighten my nerves. Rarely did my father look or feel vulnerable. He was the kind of man who always had a plan. Always. Right now, it looked as though that plan was flimsy as all hell. Still, he smiled at us all, and said, "Let's forge better ties."

My mother smiled at him. "For the family."

"For the family," I echoed, along with Max.

When my father opened the door, several people were gathering outside of their sleek, black sedan. My father went out first, the door swinging slightly closed behind him. I heard him give them a greeting. There was a handshake, a slight chuckle from another man. A moment later, the door swung open again, and my father stood there, alongside the patriarch of the Diaboli family.

He was about as tall as my father was, but he looked a little older—somewhere in his fifties, perhaps. He had short, well-kept grey hair, and silver stubble. It was his eyes that stuck out to me, though.

They were red.

Not quite the cherry red of a sports car, but more like the deep crimson of blood. It was unsettling, but the smile on his face was disarming… and oddly familiar, somehow. I couldn't place it, but I thought I had seen him somewhere.

Behind him came a woman I could only assume was his wife. She was younger than he was, easily twenty years his junior, with long, wavy black hair. She was wearing a crimson dress that matched her husband's eyes.

Stunningcame to mind, but the thought was instantly replaced when I saw the man who came in after them.

My heart wedged itself in my throat, my mind started to race, and my chest instantly tightened. No, I thought. No, no, no. How? He hadn't spotted me yet. He was too busy greeting my father with a solid handshake.

I probably looked like I was about to start hyperventilating.

"Bee," Max whispered. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," I said, keeping my voice down. "Just fucking dandy."

He finally entered the house, a polite smile drawn across his face. When he saw me, that smile vanished, and all the blood seemed to drain from his cheeks. He stopped in the doorway, my father awkwardly standing behind him. It took him a moment to take a step deeper into the house, a step closer to me.

I didn't know whether to laugh, scream, or run.

How is he here?!

Why is he here?!

This can't be happening!

"Hello," I said, snapping out of my own thoughts to accept the hand of the man now standing in front of me. His father. "I'm Beatrice, and this is Maxwell," I added, autopilot kicking in to save me from an otherwise bungled first impression.

"Beatrice is a lovely name," he said, his crimson eyes carefully studying me. "My name is Mason. This is my wife, Carla, and my son… Lucien."

Lucien.

That's his name.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," said Carla, "We have put this off for too long."

"I agree," said my mother. "If you'd like to follow me, I'd be happy to show you to the dining room. We have some appetizers laid out, and refreshments, of course."

"Wonderful," said Mason, his voice as smooth as silk. Both he and his wife followed my mother as she moved away from the main entrance. I waited to see whether Max and my father would clear out to give me and Lucien a chance to speak, but while Max left, my father waited.

I tried my best not to look at Him, not to do or say anything that would imply we knew each other. The truth was, though, we didn't know each other, not really, and that was worse. Way worse. If my father found out…

"Please," I said to Lucien, gesturing with my hand and trying not to speak through my teeth. "After you."

Lucien didn't nod, didn't respond; barely reacted. He simply walked past me, his eyes wide, as if he'd seen a ghost. I followed him into the dining hall, hoping I would be able to sit far enough away from him that I could avoid him all night.

As luck would have it, we were seated directly across from each other.

An hour had passed, and I still couldn't wrap my mind around the fact that he was here. That he was a mage, a Diaboli, even. How had I not known? How had I not picked up on that before now? Maybe that was why I was so drawn to him, so intoxicated by him.

Oh no.

That one trail of thought led to another, which led to a flash of memory, which led to a sudden rush of excitement somewhere in my midriff. Crap. I swallowed hard and tried not to look at him, but it was difficult. Why did he have to be so good looking? He had that strong jawline, that days old stubble, and he was wearing the finest grey suit.

He was fidgeting with one of the many silver rings he had along his knuckles. Whenever he worried at them, I would catch a flash of the tattoos on the backs of his hands. I had never noticed them before. Just like I had never noticed the light crimson of his eyes.

His father's eyes.

Diabolieyes.

We had only ever met in that nightclub, and whether it was the dark, strobing lights of the dance floor, or those awful, harsh fluorescents of the bathroom, I had never noticed his real shade of eye color until now.

Another pulse of nervous energy tore through me.

I caught myself looking at him from across the table, and instantly, I regretted it. He was looking back at me, his eyes fixed on me. They weren't wide anymore, but narrow, and… dangerous. Don't, I thought to myself. Don't you dare.

He pursed his lips.

His Adam's apple worked.

Don't.

He held one hand across his jaw, and his tongue darted across his lips.

I shot to my feet, my chair dragging behind me, the sound grabbing everyone's attention. "Sorry…" I said, "Would you excuse me for just a moment?"

Mason and my father didn't seem to mind. Carla was in the middle of her bowl of soup. My mother, however, glared at me as if I had just pulled out a gun, fired three rounds into the ceiling, and yelled yee-haw!

I didn't wait for a response. I couldn't be in that room any longer. Basically, I fled. I wasn't sure where I was going, though, so I stopped at the other side of the foyer, tucked out of view and out of earshot.

"This can't be happening," I said to myself. "It can't be him. Why is it him? Why is this happening?"

I felt like I was about to pass out, either from panic or excitement. He had this effect on me; this powerful, primal effect, that turned me into a lusting animal. I hadn't questioned it much before now, but given that I knew who he was, and what family he belonged to, I had to wonder.

Is it magic? Is that how he gets me so hor— "—I'm just as surprised as you are," he said.

He had followed me.

Dammit. Why?!

I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the study. "What the hell are you doing here?!" I hissed.

"Attending dinner with my family," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here!"

"Mystery solved, then."

"No. Mystery not solved. You can't be here right now."

"I'm just as surprised as you are." He paused, then scanned the quiet study. "But since we're here…"

I jabbed a finger. "You cut that out right now."

"Cut what out?"

"You know exactly what you're doing, and you need to stop. They can't find out we know each other."

"Why not?"

"Because my mother will murder us both, and our families will never forge better ties, or whatever the hell my father always says."

A pause. "Yeah, I get that." Lucien shook his head. "My father's a hard ass too, and he'll probably kill me if I mess this up as well. You wouldn't believe the talking to I got before we got here."

"If it was anything like mine, then we're both in bad spots. Sneaking off like this probably hasn't helped."

Lucien checked over his shoulder. "Do you think they suspect?"

"That we know each other? I mean, we don't know each other. But… you know what I mean."

He gave me his eyes again. "Maybe we should fix that, then."

"Fix what?"

He extended his hand. "Hi," he said, "My name is Lucien. What's yours?"

I stared at it for a moment, but then I took it, and shook it. "Beatrice," I said, a slight smile curling along the corners of my mouth.

"It's a pleasure to meet you."

A trickle of warm excitement moved through me. "Likewise..." I said, trailing off. "We should probably get back, right?"

Lucien nodded. "At different times, though."

"Right. I'll go first."

I let go of Lucien's hand and walked around him to get back to the main hall. I thought about glancing at him before leaving, but I didn't. Though I had been horrified to see him walk through the front door to my house, I couldn't help but feel a little… better, now.

We had finally been introduced, we had more in common than I thought, and we hadn't been gone long enough for anyone to suspect something dodgy had gone on between us.

Tonight, might just turn out alright.