15. Max

15

MAX

I sprang awake, my breath coming out in ragged gasps as the door sprang open.

Izzy burst into Darius's room, muttering something I couldn't hear, tears streaming down her bloodshot eyes. It looked like she hadn't slept in two weeks.

"What's wrong?" I swallowed, blinking a few times as my body fought to wake up, to catch onto the urgent energy springing from Izzy in thick waves.

"I'm sorry," she said again. She was breathless and tear-streaked, her hair a mess of tangles that were falling from a precariously-perched messy bun that had shifted to just above her right ear and was holding on for dear life. "I panicked and ran here. I— I need coffee. And sleep. But right now, coffee. We need to figure out how to fix this."

"Fix what?" I asked. "Izzy, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, the phrase rushed and flat. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to decide where to start. After a moment, she shook her head, giving up. "Coffee. My brain is fuzzy."

Darius's arm had closed around me the moment the door opened, ready to defend and protect, but when he recognized my best friend, the strain in his arm lessened. Slightly. Until he froze and slid his intimidating glare from Izzy to the small cat curled into my side.

Shadow. She was soft and sweet, but Darius was fucking petrified of her—a realization that only seemed to enhance the cat's obsession with him.

"Love," he pressed a quick kiss to my forehead "I've accepted that you enjoy that wretched thing's company for some ungodly reason, but please keep her off the bed, I beg of you. She knows she's not allowed in here."

We both knew the cat wasn't in here for me. Cuddling with me while I cuddled with him, was the closest she could get to her true object of affection.

I lifted the cat in my arms, biting back my grin as Darius inched some space between us when Shadow purred, nodding her head into where his arm rested against me.

Shadow swiped lazily at Darius, and he hissed back, baring his fangs.

This seemed to only delight Shadow more.

Izzy hardly even noticed their interaction, which meant something was very, very wrong.

I rushed her into the small kitchenette area, giving Darius a few moments to put some, er, pants on and join us.

Thank the gods I'd begun making sure I was fully dressed when I fell asleep—made sleep-walking around the grounds and to the lake far less embarrassing.

I set Shadow down and watched as she pounced on Ralph's back, coiling herself into a small donut on his bed of fur.

Ralph let out a small huff, but slid back into his soft snores and didn't otherwise seem to mind the added few pounds of pressure.

Izzy did a double take. "Is that Ralph? Here?" She didn't wait for me to answer the obvious questions, moving straight to the one I had no response for. "How? And that cat really has no sense of danger, does she? First Darius and now Ralph? Bravest little creature in the world."

"No idea." I poured two steaming mugs of coffee, thankful that Dec had clearly already woken up and left a pot on. My brain was cloudy after what could have been only two or three hours of actual sleep. Still, I supposed I should be grateful that I was asleep for so short a time that I hadn't wound up submerged in the lake. "He showed up last night," I handed Izzy a mug and nodded for her to follow me to the couch, "alone. We have no idea how he got here or why, or what that might mean about hell."

Wade had clued us in on his dreamwalk with Serae, so we knew that things were unfurling at a rapid pace in hell, and that she didn't have contact with Lucifer, but that didn't explain how Ralph was able to travel here.

Unless Sam sent him somehow.

I drained half my cup, savoring the burn as it scorched away my conflicted thoughts about the man. He was a hellhound shifter, and hadn't bothered to tell me about it—hell, he'd used it as a way to spy on me, using the hellhound form to get in on my good graces. Fucking prick.

"Sam said that Ralph would always be able to find me if I needed him, that we are linked somehow. Maybe that got triggered or something, or maybe the shadow magic between realms is so unstable that the barrier is thinning now. Portals keep showing up, so maybe Ralph just hopped into one?"

Or, and I couldn't voice the thought because that somehow gave it life, more truth—and I wasn't ready for that possibility yet—maybe Sam was missing too.

Izzy's eyes were wide and bloodshot as she took a deep gulp of coffee, watching the unlikely animals snuggle on the worn carpet like conventional pets. "This world just keeps getting stranger by the minute, doesn't it? "

I grunted. We sat in silence for a beat before the reason for her visit and the abrupt wake-up call came rushing back.

When Izzy's eyes met mine, I knew that she could read the thoughts as soon as they unfolded on my face, as if the same realization rolled over hers in tandem.

"They both died," she whispered the words, coffee cup pressed to her bottom lip as if catching them. "She's the only one left. I'm sorry. I know how hard you've been trying to help her."

She didn't need to say more, I knew that she was referring to the two patients who'd been Sarah's bunkmates. The ones who'd also been attacked by the drude. The only ones other than Atlas and Sarah who'd survived this long. Until now.

I licked my lips, my tongue rough and dry from sleep. "How."

Izzy blinked away some of the moisture collecting in her gray eyes. "One of them succumbed the same way the others had. Their body just gave out, couldn't fight past the drude's power. Whatever stranglehold it had on them, finally won."

She let the silence settle between us for a moment, and I knew I'd regret asking my next question. "And the other one?"

A stray tear fell down her cheek, unable to be held back any longer. "She ripped her own heart out. Literally. We think that she maybe had a lucid moment, like she came back to herself for a second, but couldn't handle being pulled back into that torment again. We think—" she bit her bottom lip, "we think it was quick. I know it's no consolation, but better than the alternative, I suppose."

Bile rose up my throat at the thought. I should've checked on them, but after everything with Seamus and Greta, and training my team, Sarah and the others had slipped past. Maybe I would've seen? Would've caught something? Maybe my healing magic would have finally worked this time.

I'd given so much of it to Sarah, to Atlas. Guilt rankled, lodged in my throat, that I hadn't made more of an effort with the others. Even though I knew that my connections to them were nonexistent, that my powers would have worked even less than they had with Sarah, who I'd at least known.

"And Sarah?" I asked, my voice little more than a cracked whisper.

"No changes, but maybe," she winced, like she was trying to soften the blow, "maybe your healing has helped hold it off some. Maybe she has more time because of you."

I swiped my cheeks with my sleeve as Izzy averted her gaze. "I should be better at this."

I didn't bother keeping the frustration and shame out of my voice.

"No," Izzy's fingers tugged my chin until I was facing her again. "You're doing everything you can, Max. We all are. We aren't responsible for their deaths, and we'll find a way to save Sarah before it's too late. I know we will."

I needed to save Sarah.

More than I needed to do anything else.

I couldn't voice the reasons why, couldn't tell Izzy that I needed Sarah to be there for my team when I wasn't. That she was the person I was counting on to lessen the blow. Not a perfect replacement, but someone they loved, someone who loved them back. And maybe, one day, the bonds between her, Atlas, and Wade would come back. We knew so little about bonds—forged or natural. It was possible they would be able to find that wholeness—that fullness—again. I had to believe that I wasn't their last opportunity at finding that kind of connection and belonging. Not when, after everything, it would be so short-lived.

And it was the one thing that would make it easier to do what I had to do. I needed to save her for them. They couldn't lose her again. I didn't want any of them to lose anyone ever again, as impossible a request as it was to make of the universe and whatever gods were listening—assuming gods even existed at all. If they did, they hardly seemed to care.

"Ro's with her," Izzy continued, her posture straightening some as she squeezed my hand in hers, like she could tell I was barely holding it together and was trying to carry some of the weight for me.

It was ridiculous considering she hadn't slept. I was the one who should've been helping her hold that burden, not the other way around.

"We're going to have her watched 24/7 from now on," she continued. "And after what happened with Greta yesterday, literally half the community here has been clamoring to volunteer in the med ward, to help." A smile brightened the curves of her face. "They're really something here, aren't they? No dead weight. Everyone really seems to want to help, to make this place a safe haven, a community." She snorted. "If I'd had any idea this place existed before, I'd have ditched The Guild ages ago.

"Happy surprise though, it turns out a lot of the people we rescued from The Guild have a pretty good knowledge about medicine too—especially when it comes to some of the supernatural beings we're less familiar with." She took a deep breath, then shook her head, as if she felt her thoughts wandering. "I'm sorry I burst in here like this, that was a shitty way to wake you up, especially when you've hardly been sleeping. I just had it in my head that I needed to tell you, and that I needed to tell you immediately. I wasn't in my right mind, wasn't thinking. You're already carrying so much. I'm sorry."

Ralph's feet started kicking, like he was chasing a rabbit—or whatever equivalent creature hellhounds chased, maybe people, who could say—until he jolted himself awake.

Shadow hopped off, light as a feather, and ran back through the cracked door to Darius's room.

I gave Izzy's hand another squeeze and shook my head. "No, I'm glad you did. I need to meet with Bishop and the others, so I'm not sure when I'd have found my way to the med building to even learn about it all. Just keep me updated, okay? Any changes, I want to know immediately, yeah? No matter what time of day or night."

Ralph wandered over to us, his giant head nuzzling into Izzy's neck in greeting.

She giggled as she scratched behind his giant ears, her voice muffled through his fur. "Good to see you again too, you old brute."

Darius let out a sharp sound that could only be described as a squeal, followed by a barrage of curses.

Shadow came scampering back into the living room area, huddling behind Ralph and looking pleased as punch with herself.

"I can't decide if it's adorable or ridiculous that he's so terrified of an innocent little kitten," Izzy said.

I grunted in agreement as Shadow circled between my legs.

"But yes, deal. Day or night, I won't hesitate to come get you." She winked, a teasing smile cracking through some of the fatigue on her face. "Maybe next time I'll get a better peek at what your hot, creepy vampire is packing underneath those blankets. Something tells me it's glorious."

It was.

He was.

And when she poked my cheek, I could feel the heat of my blush giving that much away.

"It might be a long shot." Bishop scrubbed his hand over his face. Judging by the dark circles that had somehow grown darker than they already were yesterday, he'd gotten even less sleep than I did. In fact, I was now solidly convinced that no one in The Lodge was sleeping these days. Maybe that was a requirement or necessary condition of war, of an impending apocalypse. "But it will solve the problem of alerting them to our presence, so I think it will be worth considering."

We were back in the room that Charlie and Bishop used to host their community council meetings. My attention was rapt on Bishop, my fingers tense around the arms of the chair, waiting for him to tell us our plan. We'd been in such a standstill about how to approach the three council members that Evelyn knew how to locate.

Everyone else in the room, besides my team, was largely ignoring Bishop, even during the moments when they'd occasionally spare him a glance, trying to pretend otherwise.

Their focus kept collectively snagging on Ralph who was seated at my side.

Even though he was sitting, and I had the height boost from the conference room chair, he still towered over me.

"That's great, Bishop," Haley said. Her expression was unreadable, but it didn't escape my notice that her body was simultaneously tight and loose, like she was poised to defend at the drop of a hat if she needed to—it was a stance I'd grown used to with Darius and Atlas around, "but can we maybe first talk about the giant hellhound casually seated at our table?"

"Fucking wild, isn't it?" Jace let out a deep laugh, then leaned forward so that he could better study Ralph across the table. "I've never seen one before. Honestly, thought they'd gone extinct." He nudged Evelyn with his elbow, "not sure even The Guild has record of one in this realm, right?"

"Appears the little firecracker is full of surprises." Levi leaned against the wall, his eyes that saw too much lasered in on me with a focus I didn't want to dissect. "Daughter of Lucifer, companion to a hellhound," he let his voice trail for a moment, "any other secrets you want to share with the class?"

I didn't bother offering a response. I was too exhausted and intrigued by whatever plan Bishop had brewing to play any of Levi's games.

"Is he safe?" Charlie asked, eyes narrowed as they reluctantly swept away from Ralph to look at me. There was no fear in her voice, only concern. "We're fine with him staying here. But we need to have your word that he won't hurt anyone. Even with our rather diverse group here, none of us know much about hellhounds." Her expression flashed, briefly, with a small bit of wonder as she spared another look at Ralph. "Bishop had never even bothered mentioning them before. He's a freaking giant, isn't he?"

I couldn't help but smile. Charlie was always so in control, organizing everything around here, that I often found myself forgetting that the supernatural world was actually quite new to her. She hadn't grown up knowing that fantastical creatures from story books were real. I wondered if she always had to fight the urge when she met a new being—caught halfway between excited indulgence and the steady control she tried to mobilize for this community.

That brief glimmer warmed me towards her even more. I'd grown up on the outside too. I knew that balance well, though I was far less poised when trying to maintain it.

"He's safe." Eli, Atlas, and Dec all clipped the two words out in tandem, while Darius muttered a hushed, "far safer than that white furball you let you run rampant around this place."

Wade was seated on Ralph's other side, keeping up a steady flow of pets and scratches whenever Ralph nudged him for having the audacity to stop. "Safe and an asset."

Ralph made a friendly little chirping sound, but then growled when Evelyn reached a hand forward to pat him. She jumped and pulled her hand back to her chest, her usual stoic mask slipping for a moment, into fear.

"But he doesn't like to be touched by strangers," I added with a wince, "I should've started with that, sorry. He's good at creating those boundaries. And," I studied the hellhound, trying to see him through the lens of someone who didn't know him, who didn't see how playful and sweet and goofy he was, "I know he can be intimidating. He's very independent. And good at staying out of the way. He won't intentionally go near anyone here, and he won't harm anyone who isn't harming those he's chosen to protect."

"And he's chosen to protect you?" Levi added.

"Obviously." Eli sniffed, and I could feel him trying to pull back his annoyance with his little brother. "I mean, yes." He took a deep breath before meeting Levi's eyes. "How's my dad?"

Levi arched a brow, studying him, whatever cryptic musings passing through his head were locked away from my interpretation. "No changes."

Eli nodded, gaze now dipped to his lap as Bishop impatiently tapped his fingers on the table.

"Your idea, then?" I said, urging him to change the topic.

"Er, right." Bishop glanced briefly at Evelyn and then back to me. "As Evelyn mentioned the other day, she thinks she can locate three council members. Or at least knows where they are most likely to be found. And we know that once we attack one, we lose the element of surprise—we can basically assume that all information and intel we currently have about locations and what not will be null from that moment on. They move quickly, and if they suspect that Levi and Evelyn have been playing them the whole time, that they're still alive, they'll waste no time."

I nodded, my hands lazily running through Ralph's fur. It hadn't been super long since I'd seen him, but I'd missed him. And something about having him near soothed the chaos constantly flooding my brain. "So, we need to choose wisely—where we start, I mean. We need to determine who of the three is most likely to have or know the whereabouts of the stone."'

Jace and Haley kept darting glances at the spot where my hand scratched Ralph's chin, their faces twin expressions of shock and horror, like they half expected Ralph to casually snap my hand clean from my wrist at any moment.

"Or, we do a tandem strike," Bishop said, his eyes glimmering with the embers of excitement.

"But we need Max at each one." Evelyn leaned back in her chair, the picture of calm now. "She's our best hope at both sensing the stone and getting out safely with her powers. Like I said before, you all have a target on you. We need the anonymity teleportation brings, once any of you are caught on surveillance, you can't come back here. You'll risk jeopardizing this entire operation."

Bishop's face cracked into a smile—maybe the first true smile I'd seen him wear since meeting him.

And damn did it do things to his face. It was like a beacon of light, softening his usual sharp edges into something quite beautiful.

I understood why Charlie always stared at him like he was the sun now.

"That's just it. Max doesn't need to be at each confrontation. Her powers will be."

"No," Darius said, following Bishop's plan to its conclusion instantly. "Absolutely not."

The others tensed around me but said nothing, not yet.

Bishop's nostrils flared slightly, but he didn't bite back. He'd come expecting a bit of a fight, and he was settling in for the long road of winning right now.

Ignoring Darius, he focused on me, knowing I was the one who'd have to ultimately decide. "I watched you all last night. You're all incredible, making huge strides, and quickly. A few more days, maybe a week or two—they'll have your powers down. You feed on each other, you get stronger at an exponential rate when you're together. They'll be able to teleport soon, and then, they'll get strong enough to carry others with them when they do."

I sensed Haley's stare on me before I saw it. "You want them to separate. To do a tandem attack, and siphon Max's power as needed."

She sounded surprised, impressed—something I had a feeling she rarely broadcasted. And between Ralph and Bishop's plan, she'd done so twice in five minutes.

"We hit them all at once, no guess work." Jace snorted and slapped a hand down on the table. "That's bloody brilliant, Bishop."

Honestly, I agreed.

"It wouldn't be perfectly in tandem, but it'll be close. We'd need a few minutes between each mission. Only one of us can use the powers at a time. And we haven't tested their success rate with distance in mind," I said, feeling excitement—hope—for once, now that a plan was finally settling into place, "but yeah, with a bit more training, pushing the limits, this could work. Maybe even succeed."

We'd been stuck since I took down The Guild, biding our time. This could be it. We could finish this thing.

Of course, that hope was layered with the realization that getting closer to finishing this thing also meant getting closer to my own death.

I took a deep breath, pushing that wave of fear down, down, down, where the others couldn't find it.

"We are not splitting up." Wade's voice held an edge of finality, and I felt the flutter of his incubus influence push over the room—something he was clearly unaware of harnessing to such a degree. I wondered if that had grown stronger too, with the bonds solidifying.

"Look, we don't have many options." Bishop ran his hand roughly over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He cut his gaze to Jace, then Charlie, before meeting mine. "We've been trying to keep outside news to a minimum when you're around. We know you're under an impossible amount of pressure. But things are bad. Getting worse every day. Human news has no idea what to do with the shit that's happening, and The Guild is trying to get a hold on it, to calm them down, but they only have so much power. We're running out of time. We need to move quickly if we want there to be a world left to save. Right now, this isn't just the best option we have—it's the only one."

My stomach lurched at the statement. We had been in a bit of a bubble here—on the outskirts of the real world, in a lot of ways.

Silence settled over us all, before my team started arguing again.

"We'll try it," I said, silencing the barrage of dissents waving over me through the bonds. "If we can make this work, this is the safest and smartest option we have. We don't have time to keep picking at air, hoping some perfect solution will make itself known."

Between Lucifer's disappearance, and Ralph's sudden appearance , who knew how much longer we had before it was too late.

I felt everyone's eyes on me, felt the truth of my words hit my team, felt them reluctantly fight it, try to poke holes and anticipate problems, before, finally, Atlas nodded.

"There needs to be at least two of us present at each site," he said. The fire in his focus, the rigidity of his voice, it was like he was the old Atlas for a moment—donning the familiar, but dusty posture of the Team Six leader. "If we do this, we do it quickly, and we're smart about it. We get in, we find the council members, the stone, we get out. And we'll need to prepare for any contingencies. Nobody plays hero, this is going to need to be precise."

"You can't be serious?" Wade bit out, jaw tight .

"I'm going with Max," Darius said, the steel in his voice daring any of them to argue.

None of them did.

"You're the strongest, the most indestructible." Dec nodded. "I'd feel better about it knowing you were with her."

"Fucking hell," Eli grumbled, his fingers biting into the edge of the table. "We're seriously going to do this? What if there's a better option?"

"We still have a lot of training to do," Atlas said, his stare boring into Bishop's. "We train for this mission, but if we come up with a better—with a safer—option before then, we abandon this. Deal?"

Bishop considered him for a long moment before breaking their thick battle and turning his focus to me. "That's up to her, I think."

I nodded. "Deal."

Weeks flew by, but there was no improvement in Seamus or Sarah. Though the latter case seemed to be a good thing, because, since she wasn't getting any worse, it meant that she wasn't spiraling into the same oblivion as the others had, that my healing was helping her, if not entirely. But with Seamus, his condition seemed to only be worsening.

And Eli's mood was worsening with it, his anger hardening into an incomprehensible grief. He didn't know how to mourn a man who was still technically with us, didn't know how to fight an illness we had no rule books for, or how to hope for an outcome none of us fully understood.

Hunger seemed to rule every ounce of Seamus's focus. There were no longer those brief glimpses of the man we knew shining through. He didn't seem to recognize any of us, not even Eli. Not even Levi .

And the only way to control his screaming even slightly, was to let him peel the skin back from whatever animal the guys could hunt for him to gnaw on relentlessly.

Aside from our inability to help Seamus and Sarah, things were otherwise settling into a steady, almost comfortable routine. But that came with its own grief, its own guilt. How did one find peace, purpose, amidst others' pain?

We did our best to find a way, in the quieter moments. Now that there was a plan in place, life at The Lodge somehow both sped up and slowed down all at once.

Despite initial wariness, the community took to Ralph quickly. After a few days of scattered sidelong glances and whispers, that is.

Once Mer's son, Devin, accidentally bumped into him, everyone in the vicinity seemed to collectively hold their breath, expecting all hell to break loose. Literally. But instead, Ralph put his front paws down in that universal puppy sign for play, and took off on a leap, hopping around like an overgrown labrador with some of the older kids. He'd even lay on his back and let them climb over him.

Honestly, the hellhound was fucking loving this place, and I didn't blame him. There was a warmth here that I grew more fond of with each passing day.

And once he'd dragged out one of the younger kids who'd accidentally slipped into the lake, he won over every last skeptical heart in the place.

Now, I hardly saw him much before dusk, and once everyone realized that he wasn't going to hurt them, I think a lot of the parents actually felt safer having him around. He'd become like a giant, protective, community babysitter. One we were desperately in need of, with all of the adults stretched so thin.

Even Shadow loved him .

I found the small cat buried in a puddle of his fur most nights, whenever she couldn't sneak into Darius's room.

Of course, while everyone's fear of Ralph had dissipated, Darius's fear of Shadow remained decidedly unchanged. Not that he'd admit it was fear that he was feeling.

"That damn cat is unclean. Downright unhygienic letting her in this cabin."

"She's getting into everything."

"Mark my words, she's some secret creature we haven't heard about. One bent on killing us all. You laugh now, Little Protector, but just you wait…"

Even Bishop seemed lighter, happier, now that there was a clear mission he could pour himself into. I'd even caught a few more of those smiles on his face, though never when Charlie wasn't in the room to inspire them.

He also seemed to hate Darius less, which seemed to startle the vampire more than please him.

Darius knew how to handle people hating him, but he seemed much less sure what to do with the inevitable affection he inspired in those who took the time to get to know him—whether by choice or necessity.

Bishop's excitement, his confidence that this would work, was contagious. We all sensed it, humming beneath our skin, alive and eager.

After so many things had been hanging over us for so long, the assurance that we'd be the ones to deal with it all, despite the fact we had very little direction, had begun to feel overwhelming. Now, we had a plan. We had clear, actionable steps we could take.

We had no idea how to save the world in an abstract way, but missions we could do. They had rules, objectives. We could plan, prepare.

But the effects of the planning stages were even more noticeable in Atlas than they were in Bishop. When Atlas wasn't training with the rest of us, he was with his cousin. I often caught the two of them whispering together into the late hours, huddled up in Charlie's restaurant, picking at whatever delicious concoction she'd left for them, running through every possibility, every path.

My initial instinct had been to coddle Atlas, thinking he was pushing himself too much. Our training sessions were no walk in the park. Sparring was one thing. But manipulating magic and finding a way to siphon it through to each other? That was next level—both on the mind and the body. There hadn't been a night in weeks that I hadn't almost instantly fallen asleep the moment my head hit the pillow in whoever's room I was crashing in that night.

But Wade helped me see the truth.

As tired as Atlas was, he was also unfolding a bit. Coming back to himself. This mission, working with Bishop, it gave him a renewed sense of purpose, a space to filter all that anxiety and fear he'd been harboring close to his chest. This was an outlet, familiar. Like he'd put on a favorite pair of jeans he hadn't worn in decades, thinking they wouldn't fit, only to find that they were waiting for him, just as cozy and comfortable as he'd remembered. Maybe even more so, now that they were no longer tarnished by the fear he'd outgrown them.

As much as I resisted at first, I had to admit that Wade was right.

So, we spilled every ounce of ourselves into this mission, letting the excitement and energy fuel us even on nights when our bodies ached down to the bone from countless hours spent teleporting.

Thankfully, Wade, Darius, and I had strengths that allowed us to—ahem—heal quickly through energy exchanges of a more physical kind. Though Eli, Atlas, and Dec each assured me over and over again that they'd never not have energy for that particular activity .

Being together, skin against skin, teasing whispers in the dark of night—they were the moments I cherished most. Soaking up every second I spent with each of them, trying like hell to tattoo every touch, every feeling against my skin, reminding myself over and over again that I was doing this for them—to give them a future.

Until then, I'd let myself be greedy—indulge in every kiss, every lick, every bite that I could until the chance was inevitably robbed from me forever.

As much as I wanted this blissful bubble to last for eternity, the rush of having a plan, the luxury of spending time together with all of them, I knew that it couldn't.

And the leaps they were making in mastering my powers served as a bittersweet reminder of that.

They'd plateaued a few times, and had to build an initial callous to using my power, but slowly, they grew better at it. Within two weeks, everyone could teleport, and within a month, we could pull energy from fifty miles away from each other.

After that, their improvements came in a rush, all of us caught on the high of feeling our connection grow stronger, bolder, the feel of the power flowing through us like a sixth sense—one that had been there all along, only we'd only now just realized to look for it.

Until, eventually, there was no more stalling.

We were ready.

Every contingency to the plan had been belabored and discussed within an inch of everyone's sanity.

Eli had begun reciting different steps and locations in his sleep.

Charlie had forced Bishop to begrudgingly take a weekend off, the two of them locking themselves in their suite, for a little babymoon—the only sort that could safely take place in times like this .

Two days before we were set to leave, they finally announced the pregnancy, all smiles and excitement as everyone feigned surprise. That's when I realized that Charlie believed it too—that we were going to win. And somehow, more than Bishop's meticulous planning, and Declan's impeccable mastery of our power, that sealed my own confidence, burying the tiny sliver of doubt deep in the recesses of the lake, for good.

Charlie was like the backbone of this place, and though we were generally too busy for a casual chat, I found myself liking her more and more, the longer I was here. The community seemed to breathe alongside her—flexing and folding as she moved.

But she was busy, and taking on a lot, so I'd waited to have the conversation I needed to have with her.

That was the excuse I kept telling myself anyway.

After Greta, I knew that Charlie was the only lead I had left if I wanted to find my mother's twin.

And I was running out of time.

I was confident my powers were as strong as they were ever going to get—same with my connection to my team. Once we had the stone, that left exactly one thing: the nexus.

Saif was my best chance at finding it. I hoped so anyway.

He was also my last link to Cyrus. Cyrus's final mission, one he gave up his final months with us to see out.

The night before our planned mission, I threw back a shot of whiskey with Mer and Dec at the restaurant, took a deep breath, and went to find Charlie.

Whenever she had a spare second to breathe, she liked to sit out on the nearest dock to catch a few minutes of the sunset. It was honestly the only indulgence I ever saw her take.

Bishop was running over the plan for the millionth time with the guys, so I knew she'd be out there alone .

When I found her, I paused, suddenly unsure about what exactly I was going to say.

She sat with her feet dangling above the water, leaning back on her hands, her small stomach bump outlined in the orange and pink hues of the setting sun as they bounced back against the water.

What did I say? Where did I start? I wasn't even sure what exactly it was I was looking for here.

Shaking my head, I turned away—I'd do this after the mission, my head needed to stay focused, I didn't need to be distracted by Saif or my mother, or a family history I'd never fully know, not really—until my forehead bumped into a solid, warm mass.

"Chickening out, are we, Little Protector?"

Darius's voice sent a wave of shame through me, one that he dispelled just as quickly when he wrapped a hand around my shoulders and tugged me in close to him.

"Caught Dec at the bar, she let me know where you were. Thought you could use some moral support."

I sank against him, my chest suddenly lighter.

"Family stuff can be hard, trust me, I get it."

I nodded, walking stitched against him until we reached the end of the dock, and Charlie, and there was nowhere else to go.

We sat down next to her, me sandwiched between them both, stealing their warmth as the impossibly stunning sunset put on a show just for us.

"It's beautiful here," I whispered, the sacredness of the setting washing away any lingering anxiety, at least for a moment.

Charlie's features softened as she turned to me and nodded, that soft expression of pride that parents often get when someone compliments their children evident on her features, that pleasure at watching someone else see what they've always known .

"It is." Darius picked up a small rock, then tossed it into the lake, watching the small circles form across the surface as it hopped. "Something about this place has always pulled me here."

"I never asked," Charlie took a deep breath, studying him, "what brought you to this place, of all places, so many years ago. From what I understand, vampires usually prefer heavily-populated cities, don't they?" She ran a finger unconsciously, over a small, nearly invisible scar just above her collarbone. Darius tensed next to me, his fingers twitching over mine. "I'm sorry you lost so many years of your life imprisoned. I know it was a complicated time, but I always believed you weren't evil, even then."

In all the chaos of everything, I'd nearly forgotten that this was where The Guild had captured Darius all those years ago, that Dani had been the one to bring him in.

I knew that Bishop and Darius had a complicated relationship, and as I tried not to stare too closely at the small marks marring the smooth column of Charlie's otherwise smooth neck, pieces started to stitch themselves together.

"I was running." Darius gripped my hand tighter, threading my fingers through his, like he was worried I'd slip away. "Something about this place called to me. For a moment, I'd let myself pretend that I could live here, that I could live a regular, human life, if I simply tried hard enough. Obviously, I failed very quickly at that."

They both fell quiet, sandwiching me in their silence, their memories fading and reshaping at the edges.

Darius studied me, his stare shifting to Charlie, then back again, his curiosity and encouragement lapping against my skin like a rough tongue.

"This place." I cleared my throat, then turned to her. "You inherited it from your family, right? A protector lineage?" I took a deep breath, trying like hell not to want too badly, not to hope too hard that she had the answers I sought. "I was wondering if you could tell me—if you knew the line of protectors, your ancestors?—"

"I did." Charlie's lip twitched, half in sadness, half in empathy, like she could feel the yearning stumbling in my voice. "But I'm sorry, Max. I didn't know that side of my family. My parents never mentioned—I didn't even know about the supernatural world until years after I'd started working at the restaurant, until Bishop—" she shook her head, an emotion I couldn't parse taking shape in her dark eyes, "Evelyn mentioned you were looking for your family. I wish I could help, I really do. But I'd never even met the uncle I inherited this place from. He was my mother's half brother. She was half-protector, but I don't think she even knew that. She was raised outside of the community. I don't think she'd ever even met him. And by the time I learned the truth, it was too late to ask her."

I nodded, swallowing back the lump of disappointment lodged in my throat. Even knowing this was a dead end, I felt an overwhelming kinship with Charlie. Her ties to her own history, to her family, seemed just as convoluted and difficult to trace as my own. I saw my own grief reflected in her features now. A gentle but pervasive longing, lodged in the knowledge that we'd never fully know where we came from, our stories gently erased at the beginning.

For the first time, I was almost grateful to Lucifer, for having access to the knowledge about at least some of my history, however stingy he was with sharing it. Especially so, now that I had zero access to him.

"Maybe it wasn't just this place." Darius turned, his eyes darting between us as indecision crossed his expression, like he was making sense of something beneath my skin, something I couldn't see. "That drew me here."

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked.

His bouncing stare and assessment settled on her for a moment. "I mean, that, yes, this place drew me here. But when I met you, it became more than that. A yearning I hadn't really felt before."

My stomach clenched as Darius's words sliced through me. I knew that he'd been with many people before me, but the thought that he and Charlie had that kind of a past, that he hadn't told me—no wonder Bishop hated him so much.

"There was a rightness about you. I'd planned on killing you." He shook his head, "well, not planned per se. It usually just happened. Especially in the particular state I was in at the time. But when I bit you, something shifted slightly, coming into focus, and I knew that I couldn't kill you. That's why?—"

Charlie's fingers danced over her scar again, her brows twisted in confusion as she stared at him. "That's why you saved me that day, on the ledge. Why you let them take you in?"

"The uncle," Darius nodded, leaning forward, towards us both, "the one who left you this place. What was his name?"

Charlie's eyes narrowed as she considered. "It's terrible, but I don't know that I even remember it. Like I said, I'd never met him, never even heard of him until I was told about this place."

"The name Sayty, does that ring any bells?" Darius asked, and my breath lodged in my lungs at the sound of my mother's name.

Where the hell was he going with this?"

Charlie thought for a moment, like she was rifling through an invisible filing cabinet in her mind, trying to chase the name down. "I'm sorry, it doesn't."

I exhaled, trying to understand a wave of disappointment I didn't fully understand.

"What about Saif?" Darius asked.

Charlie's expression softened, her brows raising. "That's it. Yes, Saif. That was the name on the deed. He was my uncle."

I choked on my voice as the realization struck through me.

Darius nodded, like a picture was shifting, refocusing, coming into clarity finally. He licked his lips, lost in thought, like he was tasting a memory. "It was Max."

"Me?"

His tongue peeked out against his bottom lip again, a recognizable flare of hunger in his eyes as he watched me. "When I bit Charlie, there was something about her—something subtle, but it was there. And the first time I had you, your blood—" my cheeks warmed at that memory, and I shifted, uncomfortable with the flare of need chasing me in this entirely inappropriate moment, with Charlie right here, "so much more. I was always meant for you, Little Protector. Even before I met you, I knew your taste, hunted you."

Charlie cleared her throat, reminding us both that she was witness to the heat building between us. And when I turned back, half in a haze, there was a knowing look in her eyes, one half-teasing, half-embarrassed to be witness to the very obvious desire in Darius's stare as he watched me, unblinking.

I cleared my throat, as understanding flooded me. "My uncle," I licked my lips, trying to calm the sudden excitement expanding in my chest, "his name was Saif."

She leaned back, confusion bleeding into realization as she processed that. "We're cousins?"

"Half cousins," Darius clarified, eyes still boring into me. I could tell he was very ready to be done with this conversation now that he'd pieced everything together, and was doing everything in his power to resist the desire to pull me back to the cabin.

You have no idea, Little Protector, what just the memory of the taste of you does to me.

"Half cousins," I said, my voice pitched higher than usual with Darius's words in my thoughts.

I'm pleased that you're pleased, so I'll wait, however impatiently, for this conversation to conclude, but then I'm taking you back to my room and devouring you until I've had my fill. My hunger has been—insatiable—lately…and it's been weeks since I've had you.

It had only been two days, but my own desire matched his all the same, and the promise of his teeth inside my neck while our bodies coiled together sent a pang of longing through me that I fought to push down. Not right now. Later.

Charlie's face split into a large smile, her hand reaching for mine.

I felt my own expression mirror hers as I swallowed down the out-of-place lust flooding my system.

I had a cousin. Family.

"Is anyone else here a relation of yours?" I asked, suddenly greedy for more.

She shook her head, squeezed my hand. "No, not that I'm aware of. It's why this place passed to me, a half-niece he'd never even met, who had no knowledge of the supernatural community that often traipsed through these woods. Saif had no other living family." Her head tilted in apology, "except for you, I suppose. Though given the circumstances of your life with Cyrus, it's likely he didn't even know about you."

The lightness of finding kin faded slightly as another realization hit me.

Saif passed this place to Charlie.

Saif—just like my mother, just like Cyrus—was dead.