Gilbert grimaces. “You lying little shit.”
Soren’s grandmother laughs maniacally while raising her hands toward the arched ceiling of the ballroom. “War is here!”
Chaos explodes in the room. Fletcher attacks Anatoly, his eyes wild with rage as Osmond stands at the back of the room with a pistol raised. Warning shots cut through the confusion, two distinct pops that cause everyone in the vicinity to drop toward the ground. As Soren’s grandmother continues to cackle with her fingers curled up like a witch, people run for their lives, turning over furniture, tables, chairs, and tapered candles.
Destruction reigns while tables break, glass shatters and curses slice through the air. My mother races away with Amos while Tomas helps Adelaide and Kamila. Everyone heads toward the double doors leading to the vineyard outside. When I reach the exit, I notice the Somerville vineyard is aflame, fire licking the night sky like hungry serpents.
Soren drags his resistant grandmother around the side of the building along with a frightened Helen. I make eye contact with Soren briefly before hurrying after Parker, who’s chasing after his father. Osmond darts for the vineyard, the idiot heading straight toward the wild flames.
“Parker, don’t!” I shout after him. “Wait!”
I grab his shirt, but he shakes me off, shouting his father’s name as he plunges between an archway of fire. Now that Parker is in danger, my whole plan goes out the window. It happens so quickly that it’s hard to remember why I made it to begin with, why I would ever want to hurt that boy and the ones he calls friends.
The Somervilles were my best hope against the Persian—and now, the unseen man has achieved our breakdown. I can hear it over the flames, the wicked orchestra growing in strength, a crescendo that threatens to burst and unleash hell upon us. We’re at the mercy of the Persian, and we’re helpless to defend ourselves against the phantom who has yet to appear.
My gaze darkens as I peer into the inferno in front of me. Parker can’t save his father, especially if the man is involved with our enemy. It would be useless to save someone who means so little. We don’t even need him anymore. Why would Parker be so reckless?
He should have saved his mother instead.
While covering my mouth, I turn away from the flames, coughing as the smell of burnt vines reaches my nostrils. I stumble toward the side of the mansion, where everyone else was running. It would be smart for me to leave, but I can’t shake the fact that my boys are in danger. And where’s my mother?
It seems like I can’t escape decimation, no matter how hard I try.