Chapter 26

26

EVANGELINE

I woke up feeling different. Gabriel and I were tangled together, his head pillowed on my chest, and one of my legs wrapped around his hips in a way that probably would've made a chiropractor wince.

It wasn't just that, though. I felt good. Strong. It was almost like the feeling I got when fighting off the last dregs of a cold, feeling a little shitty for a couple days, and then one morning waking up feeling great and knowing that it was all well and truly out of my system.

I stretched lazily, and Gabriel made a grumpy sound against me. I tried to stifle a laugh at his smushed, angry face, but it made my chest bounce enough under his cheek to wake him up properly.

"G'mr'n'ng," he mumbled.

"Good morning," I said. "Too early for you to use vowels, huh?"

Gabriel nodded gravely, wiping the sleep from his eyes. "How'd'y'sleep?"

"Really well, actually. I feel great. Like, fantastic," I told him. "When we found the other two artifact pieces, I felt stronger afterward, and I think it's getting more intense. I feel…" I shook my head, trailing off. My magic was strong and eager in my body, ready to flow out of me as soon as I needed it. I felt vital and powerful in a way I had never felt before. There was something just on the edge of my perception, too. I frowned a little.

"I think the artifact wants me to find it," I said slowly. Gabriel looked up at me curiously. "The first piece, I could feel it, but only when we got close. I could feel the piece Nanny Murk had as soon as we were inside her hut, and I could sense—" I cut myself off before I could mention Gabriel's father. "I could sense the piece we got last night from the other side of that huge-ass building," I said instead. "And I think I can already feel the last piece. It's pretty faint, but it's definitely there."

"You're becoming more and more attuned to it," Gabriel said, his voice still rough with sleep.

"And more and more powerful," I said. "I'm not sure I even know my own limits at this point."

"You should talk to Marcus," Gabriel said. "I've only met him in passing, but he seemed quite powerful. He might be able to help."

"I should call Isabella, too." I clambered out of bed, stretching my arms over my head. "I don't know if she'll actually be able to help, but she'd be pissed if I left her out of the loop on this."

"Just have them both come over," Gabriel offered. "We should keep the others up to date, too, and we might as well streamline things and tell them all at the same time."

I went still. "The others?" I said cautiously.

"Lissa, Vic, and Theo," Gabriel said, frowning at me just a little.

"Right," I said slowly. "Is that, uh…"

Gabriel raised an eyebrow.

"Are you sure we should loop them in on this?" I asked gingerly.

Confusion, hurt, anger, and resignation moved across Gabriel's face one after the other, almost too fast for me to follow. "I trust them. They've always been there for me," he said. His voice sounded hollow.

"I'm just saying that it might be?—"

"I know what you're saying," Gabriel said. He didn't even sound angry, just bone tired. "They're nothing like my father. You've met them; you know that."

"Gabriel." I stepped back over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it so we were closer to eye level. "I trust you, okay? Trust doesn't come easily for me, but I do trust you. It just seems like this is a situation where it would be smart to be on our guard. I'd rather be paranoid than fucked over."

"This isn't really a time where I have a great deal of faith in my own judgment of people," Gabriel said. He let out a shuddering sigh, dragging a hand over his face. "The choice is yours, Evangeline. If you aren't willing to bring them in on this, I'll respect that."

I blew out a small sigh. "I want to talk to each of them first. Just to make sure we know what we're dealing with."

It took a while to get everything set up, but by noon I had what I needed. I had the three vampires in front of me, and in front of each of them was a small cup of freshly brewed potion.

"This is going to make it impossible for you to lie to me," I explained, looking each of them in the eye in turn. "You may admit things you wouldn't otherwise, but unless it's a threat, it'll stay between you and me. I wouldn't ask you to do this if it wasn't important, and I understand if you have concerns."

Vic looked at me, looked at the cup, and downed the potion like a shot. Lissa shrugged and sipped hers daintily, letting out a delicate sigh when the cup was empty. Theo, on the other hand, glowered at me, arms crossed.

"I'm only doing this because you saved Lissa," they said, then drank their dose.

After the potion had time to take effect, I took each of the vampires into one of the smaller sitting rooms, one by one. With my phone on the table, voice memo app running, I studied each of them carefully.

"Please tell me your name and date of birth."

"Victory-in-the-face-of-turmoil William Ulfred?—"

"First and last name and date of birth."

"Victory-in-the-face-of-turmoil Hoyer. May fifteenth, 1792."

"Lissa Hoyer, née Hrafndottir. June fourth, 1843."

"Theodemir Nottingham, November first, 1381."

"Have you ever worked with Roland De Montclair? Have you ever knowingly given him intel about Gabriel?"

"No."

"My god, absolutely not. Can you imagine?"

"Fuck, no."

"Did you have anything to do with Nathan's disappearance?"

"Of course I didn't."

"No, I had nothing to do with that poor boy going missing."

"Are you serious? He's my friend. I wouldn't do anything to him."

"Are you currently involved in anything that you've been trying to keep from Gabriel?"

"I've been watching Real Housewives without him."

"Sometimes I steal his trousers and secretly tailor them to make his butt look better."

"I ruined the boots I borrowed from him."

I leaned forward in my chair, staring intently at the vampire across from me. "Would you ever willingly hurt Gabriel?" I asked.

"No."

"No."

"No."

I found Gabriel in his study, shuffling papers around his desk in a masterfully choreographed performance of Man Trying to Look Busy . Stupid vampire hearing probably meant that he'd been able to hear me coming from the other side of the house, but I knocked on the frame of the open door, anyway.

"Can I come in?" I asked.

"Of course," he said.

"Your friends are solid," I told him. In the end, I spent twenty minutes with each of them, and none of them told me anything even a little suspicious. "Lissa acts like you're her little brother, Vic wouldn't do anything to make Lissa unhappy, and Theo's biggest red flag is that they're a Scorpio. None of them know anything about the ascendancy array, and none of them have any history of working with your father."

Gabriel's shoulders sagged. "Good," he breathed. "Good. Thank you."

I put a hand on his arm and squeezed gently. The fabric of his sleeve was very soft under my touch. "They care so much about you," I told him quietly. "You don't have to worry about them. I want to get them up to speed on what we're facing."

"I'm glad you did this," Gabriel said abruptly. "It's reassuring to know that I've put at least some of my faith in the right people."

"You should probably tell them that," I said. "I know talking about your feelings isn't your favorite, but they should hear it from you. In the meantime, I've gotta get in touch with some witches."

I flopped on one of the benches tucked into the alcoves of the upstairs hallway as I texted Isabella. I was glad everyone had checked out, obviously, but I was still a little burnt out and needed to take some alone time to recharge before the others showed up. I got the feeling that rest and relaxation were going to be increasingly rare resources over the next few days.

I sent off a quick text to Marcus, who I knew wouldn't respond, and treated myself to a nice long sigh, closing my eyes and tipping my head back against the damask wallpaper behind me. It was a hell of an adjustment, going from living alone and working by myself more often than not to being part of a team. Especially a team that shared a house. Part of me missed my quiet apartment.

The doorbell rang, jolting me out of my thoughts. I opened my eyes and squinted up at the ceiling. Maybe if I didn't answer, somebody else would get it? But, no. It was probably just Marcus, and he would understand if I needed a minute to myself after letting him in.

I headed down the sweeping staircase and opened the door, letting in a gust of cold autumn wind. Dusk was in full swing, and the stained-glass porch lights had come on, casting panels of jewel-toned glow over the newcomer.

The woman outside was slim and pale, with a round, flawless face, and long, dark hair. She wore a massive fur coat over a floor-length black dress. As she looked at me, she tilted her head to the side, making the colored light slide over her face. A patch of crimson settled over her cheekbone, purple over one of her eyes, green over the other. I was distantly aware that she was incredibly beautiful, the same way a marble sculpture could be beautiful.

"You must be Evangeline," the woman said.

"How do you know who I am?" I asked, keeping my voice calm, even though a spike of unease shot through me.

"Iskra mentioned you when she got in touch," the woman said. She swept past me, her heels clicking on the polished marble of the entryway, and I had to turn my head to the side to avoid getting a mouthful of her coat. Her perfume smelled expensive. I was suddenly painfully aware of my well-worn jeans, the fact that my shirt had some old potion stains on the cuff, and how brightly my neon-green socks stood out against the fancy floor. At least I knew I didn't have any smudges of leftover eyeliner from last night, but that was a small comfort.

"Who the fuck are you?" I asked, feeling incredibly off-kilter as I shut the door behind us.

The woman flicked a hand at me without looking, like I was a hovering waiter she didn't want to deal with. "Don't mind me, I'm just here to see—Ah, Gabriel!"

That last bit was directed at the man himself, who had just come to the top of the stairs and was looking down at the two of us with an expression of restrained horror.

"Gwendoline," he said, smoothing down the front of his shirt as he descended the stairs. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The woman—Gwendoline—smiled at him, holding out a hand to him as he reached her. His eyes flicked to me, and he kissed it. God, of course this was Gwendoline. Of course this was the sort of woman Gabriel's parents would have wanted him to marry. She was so poised, it was infuriating; the woman probably even sneezed regally. She was wearing the sort of matte lipstick that, the few times I'd tried it, made my lips look as dry and flaky as a shedding lizard. On her, it looked velvety, and soft as rose petals. Suddenly, I realized my jaw was clenched.

"Your mother thought you could use some help," she said, and Gabriel's face shuttered politely.

"And she sent you," he said.

Gwendoline shrugged elegantly, spreading her arms, and making it a whole-body gesture like she was on stage, performing for the back row. "It's part of the whole… arrangement, isn't it? For better or for worse, in sickness and in health, all that."

Gabriel caught my eye, and, to his credit, barely flinched at the look on my face.

"Well, if you're going to be helping out, you showed up at just the right time," I said, pulling a vial of the leftover truth potion from my pocket. I smiled, wide and unpleasant. "But first I'm gonna have to ask you some questions."

Soon, Gwendoline had drunk the potion and shed her thick fur coat, revealing bare arms, and the edges of a clan tattoo like Gabriel's. She'd asked him for something to drink, and he'd practically bolted away from the two of us, returning with a delicate glass mug of blood. Now, she and I were in the sitting room where I'd questioned the others.

She settled on the chaise lounge with the grace of a panther, looking completely at ease as she ran one perfectly manicured finger over the lip of her mug. I stayed standing, leaning against a table with my arms crossed. Since my hands were hidden from her, I fidgeted with a hangnail on my thumb, letting the bright little spark of pain ground me.

"I'm going to be recording this," I told her, and she waved a hand through the air.

"By all means," she said. It had probably been too much to hope that that would throw her even a little bit.

I set my phone on the table next to my hip and hit record.

"Tell me your first and last name and date of birth," I instructed.

"Gwendoline Ash," she said promptly, flicking a strand of silky hair out of her face. It fell into place perfectly, and I indulged in a brief but vivid fantasy about taking a pair of scissors to her hair. "August twentieth, by modern reckoning, 1154."

"Have you ever worked with Gabriel's father? Given him information about Gabriel?"

She paused, considering. "I've never worked with the man, although my parents coordinate with him on council business. The only information I've ever given him about Gabriel has been minor. Small talk. Iskra and I talk occasionally, but generally about the status of my relationship with Gabriel. Roland isn't exactly interested in the details."

"Have you ever intentionally told him something Gabriel wouldn't want him to know?"

She pursed her lips. "No." I didn't bother asking about unintentional slips. I got the sense everything that came out of her mouth had made it past a dozen layers of inspection, and possibly a peer review.

"Do you know anything about Nathan's disappearance?" I asked, pushing away from the table, pacing back and forth slowly.

Gwendoline let out a musical titter. "I don't even know who Nathan is," she said, like it was a cute little joke.

"He's Gabriel's friend, and he's missing," I told her coldly. Her amusement faded, and her expression smoothed back into one of glossy poise. She sipped her blood, then licked her lips with a sharp pink tongue.

I exhaled sharply through my nose. Back on track, I told myself. You've been asking these questions all afternoon. Stick to the script.

"Are you currently involved in anything you're trying to keep from Gabriel?" I asked.

"I think you're drastically overestimating how much stock I put in Gabriel's opinion of me," she said casually. "I'm not hiding any devious little schemes from him if that's what you're asking. Or any devious large schemes, for that matter. None of my current manipulation is being done at his expense."

"Charming," I grumbled to myself, then turned to face her fully. "Would you ever willingly hurt him?"

"No," Gwendoline said promptly, then cocked her head. I watched the glint of the spell wash over her eyes. "Unless it was in a sexual context, but I wouldn't do anything that would cause him lasting damage. And even then," she added, her voice dropping to a purr. "He would have to ask me very nicely first."

My fingernail slipped against the hangnail I'd been fussing with, and I felt a tiny spot of wetness. Gwendoline's nostrils flared, and her eyes zeroed in on my hand, still hidden in the fold of my elbow.

"Are you all right, my dear?" she asked, sugary-sweet as chocolate-covered cyanide. "You seem to be bleeding."

I ignored her, jamming my finger against the recording button on my phone. The flow of red lines showed that our conversation stopped. I let my phone sit on the desk and stared at her. I was grateful I hadn't sat down. It was a cheap trick, but being able to look down at her was at least one tiny advantage.

"Do you love him?" I asked.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, looking down into her mug of blood. "No," she said. "He's an ally. Someone that I would, under some circumstances, consider a friend." God, she made Gabriel look like the world's most emotionally open man. "Our partnership has never been about love. I know some in our situation have found that, over time, their arranged marriage turned into one of deep and abiding affection, but I've known Gabriel for centuries. If we were going to fall madly in love, it would have happened when we were young and reckless two-hundred-somethings."

"Why let it happen, then?" I asked. "You seem like someone who's pretty damn good at playing the game. If you don't want to marry him, why haven't you found a way to end things?"

Gwendoline blinked, looking at me like I was a sweet but slightly stupid child who'd just proudly shown her some crayon scribbles. "I never said I don't want to marry him," she said mildly. "I said that I don't love him. That's completely unrelated."

I clenched my jaw again, feeling the beginnings of a headache crawling up to my temples.

"The simple fact of the matter is that I'm exactly what Gabriel needs," Gwendoline said breezily. "I cover his blind spots. He's emotional and has absolutely no head for politics. He needs someone who can keep a level head and navigate the complexities of running an entire governing body. Someone who has experience with the game of politics. Someone who can win over the older generations who think he's a bleeding heart."

I had come in third place in my middle school class president election, after Stacy W (which hadn't been a surprise) and Bart Giblet (which had been). I could keep up a poker face for twenty minutes at the absolute most, and I'd never been more aware of how terrible I was at hiding my feelings. Gwendoline was all regal poise, so put-together that if I wasn't in the same room as her, I'd have insisted she was photoshopped. I'd never felt so grubby and awkward in my life, even when I was faced with Stacy W and her posse of friends who could all apply concealer better than me.

My hair was escaping from its bun, and my eyes prickled.

"I think we're done here," I said, trying to keep my tone brisk.

"I'm so glad you agree," she said, rising to her feet and flashing me a frigid smile. "It's been fun, Evangeline."