After I feel I’ve kept Trajan waiting long enough, I take in a deep breath and leave the spacious bathroom.
He and Eva are waiting for me; Trajan is sitting comfortably on the couch with Eva standing against the wall nearby in all of her gentleness and servitude. And her secrets, which I will not ignore forever. All of the servants have already been told to leave. I know Aramei is sleeping soundly upstairs; I can hear her soft breathing and only wish that I could be there with her, instead of down here staring into the face of my undoing.
And just like the last time, I tell Trajan everything that I saw and experienced. I hold back nothing. I learn during our conversation what I already suspected: Viktor had been trying to get Aramei out of the area because the war between his army and Trajan’s was spreading fast and soon to engulf all of Serbia. Viktor’s rebellion had just started months before to infect locals, to bring more to his side so that he could eventually overthrow Trajan and claim his throne. Because Viktor knew he could never defeat Trajan on his own, nor could he defeat him with such a small army. Viktor’s actions were limitless and within a couple short months, there were so many rogue werewolves under his command that the humans who had not yet been infected were terrified to leave their homes. Rumors of the Old Myths being true had started to spread as fast as Viktor’s growing numbers. Villages days from the carnage heard of the rumors of the Black Beasts who were spreading through the countryside.
But I also learned something I never expected.
Nataša, after Viktor went rogue was made Trajan’s Right Hand in place of Viktor. But Nataša had always been crafty and vindictive. She had been spying on Viktor and all of the time that he spent with Aramei, she had been watching from the shadows. Viktor never detected her presence because his infatuation with Aramei blinded his senses, but every encounter that Viktor had with Aramei was being watched with vengeful eyes.
To become involved with a human the way that Viktor was with Aramei was not only against their laws; it was against their nature and Nataša was the most unforgiving of all. She had always hated humans and because Viktor had become infatuated with a human, Nataša would be the one to set in motion the plan to bring about Aramei’s death.
I leave the cabin with more information than I ever thought I’d have. And I start to see now more than ever how the pieces of so many mysteries are quickly coming together.
“Why do you serve him?” I say to Raul sitting in the driver’s seat of a black SUV. Isaac had to go to Augusta and deal with another challenge made by a werewolf who apparently wants control of the Maine territory. I, knowing the nature and the importance of these types of challenges, understand that Isaac had to leave and deal with it.
I was still under with Aramei when Isaac left.
Now, Raul has been appointed my chauffer and is taking me back to Hallowell. It could’ve been worse; I’m happy I didn’t get stuck on a long drive with Trajan as my company. I like Raul and Isaac trusts him, and so do I. I’m pretty sure Isaac had words with Raul before he left about watching over me.
“He is the Sovereign,” Raul answers, glancing over at me. His enormous, muscled arms look awkward out ahead of what appears to be a tiny steering wheel; his giant hands grip the wheel on each side. I’m surprised he can fit in the seat.
“He is a bastard,” I say.
If this were any guard other than Raul, I likely would not have said that out loud.
“I know,” Raul says and it stuns me.
I turn my head to look at him.
“To be Vukašin doesn’t mean for a goddamned second that anybody has to like you.” He laughs a deep, rumbling laugh. “Someone like him has more enemies than friends.”
“I can’t imagine him having any friends,” I say, looking out the windshield now.
It’s late in the afternoon and the sun will be setting soon.
“Nah,” Raul says, “he doesn’t, but that’s best being in his position. There are no such things as friends in his case.”
“Well, serves him right.”
“Other than their fear of him,” Raul says, “he associates with no one by his own choice. If I were the Sovereign, I would befriend no one just the same. Too risky.”
“Oh, so you’d shun me?” I cross my arms and scrunch up my nose looking over at him, trying to lessen the bleakness of the conversation.
I’ve had enough of bleak.
A giant grin etches across Raul’s big face and he wriggles his bushy brows at me. “Oh, no ma’am! You’d be my only friend.” Then a sneaky look appears and he adds, “I’d let you be anything to me that you wanted.”
Even Raul knows that I’d never give him the time of day, but I’d also never dream of not going along with his innocent teasing, either. I love me some Big Raul.
“Yeah, yeah,” I say, “you couldn’t afford me.”
Raul throws his head back against the seat and laughs.
“Baby, after one night with me, I wouldn’t be able to get rid of you!”
I laugh right along with him, never uncomfortable with his sexual comments. The truth is that I don’t think I ever could be. He’s totally harmless.
The sun has set by the time Raul drops me off outside at the Mayfair house.
“You be careful on the drive back, Raul,” I say standing outside at the driver’s side window.
He draws his square-shaped chin in a circular motion, looking out at me with an awkward, thoughtful expression. “Well, thanks for your concern.” I realize that Raul may have never really experienced a genuine human gesture of concern like that before. I can see all over his face that he’s contemplating it and his smile seems to deepen.
“Thanks for the ride,” I say, pat him on the shoulder and head toward the front porch.
Raul drives away and in no time I hear the big tires on the SUV braking over the little pebbles at the very end of the driveway.
I step up onto the first concrete step but then halt in my tracks.
Something’s not right…
All of my senses have suddenly gone into overdrive. The tiny hairs on my arms rise and the back of my neck all the way down my spine prickles with alarm. My eyes shift black out of nowhere and it completely shocks me because I’ve only ever known it to happen in times of rage or lust, not when I have no idea what’s going on, or which emotions to act upon. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and calm myself, letting the blackness fade. And then I open up my ears to the sounds inside the house. There are voices in the den that are muffled by grave whispers, a flurry of words that I can’t make out because they are all talking at the same time: “…to kill her,” I hear one voice say. “Where is Isaac?” and then another, “…maybe she’s a spy.” And the last one I hear says, “Hope she’s still in the cabin,” which causes me to burst inside the house to find out what’s going on.
I walk quickly into the den and all of the whispers cease in an instant; more than a dozen pairs of eyes are looking across the vast room at me.
“What’s going on?” I say; my eyes jerk around in every direction searching for some sign.
Isaac’s sister, Camilla, and Zia both walk toward me. Zia’s smoky gray eyes peer at me solemnly. She steps up in front of me and whispers, “Rachel caught someone snooping around the woods behind the house.” She glances toward the hallway which leads into the kitchen. “They’ve got her in the basement and they’ve been more or less beating the shit out of her for information for the past hour.”
“Really?” I say, my eyebrows knotted. I look toward the kitchen briefly and then back to Zia because I sense she’s not exactly telling me everything.
Then Zia leans in even closer to my ear and says, “I think she could be that Praverian you guys have been looking for.”
I gasp and my face freezes in all of its stunned glory. As Zia’s face gradually moves away from mine, all that I can move are my eyes to follow her. I feel like I’m trapped inside my own body and have lost my ability to control any part of it.
Oh my God, she said it. She said Praverian. At least I know now that she’s not the traitor, but how did she know?
I look down at my shoes and then out at all of the eyes peering back at us, Camilla standing just a few feet behind Zia. Not one of these faces can look at me fully. It’s as if every time I make eye contact, their glances stray away from mine.
I grab Zia by the elbow and pull her into the dimly lit hallway.
“How did you know about the Praverian?” I whisper harshly through my teeth. I can’t help but continuously glance down the hallway in both directions to see if anyone might be in earshot.
I still haven’t let go of her elbow.
“Girl, you can’t hide stuff from me,” Zia says, grinning. “Don’t you know that by now?”
“Tell me how you know,” I say and I’m not smiling. I don’t give in to her natural humor. Not yet. My eyes are wide and focused as I stare intently at her.
Finally, Zia pulls her elbow gently from my hand.
“Chill the hell out, Adria,” she says. “Look, I don’t like being left in the dark and I knew that for you to keep secrets from me that it must’ve been something really serious. So, I did what any nosey girl would do and I listened in on a conversation between you and Isaac—.” She grins deeply and adds, “I guess you thought I was still in Augusta with Sebastian that night, but we came home early.”
I’m not liking where this might be going. I rip through my mind, trying to figure out what night she’s talking about and what Isaac and me might’ve said.
“Well, what did you hear?” I say, still showing trepidation about her knowing anything at all and she’s starting to take offense to it.
The grin disappears from her face and she looks at me confused and maybe even a little snubbed. “Just something about a Praverian being a traitor—I don’t know why you never let me in on it and I won’t lie and say it doesn’t bug the shit out of me, but come on, I know now. What’s with the paranoia?”
The ‘paranoia’ is anyone else other than those who already know being aware of what Harry is. It’s too risky, even for one more person to be let in on the secret. We have gone to great lengths to protect Harry’s secret because if the Dark Praverian gets wind of what he is, he’s as good as dead. We can’t afford even those closest to us knowing. All it takes is one person, one slipup and this whole plan will fall apart.
I grab Zia’s arms and pull her toward me, “Zia, have you told anyone else about what you heard? Sebastian? Anyone at all?” My voice is harsh and desperate, almost on the verge of being more than a whisper.
Zia’s eyes fall under hard wrinkles, stunned by my reaction.
“No,” she says and I’m not sure I believe she never told Sebastian at least. “This was just a few nights ago and me and Sebastian don’t do a lot of heart-to-heart talking…if you know what I mean.” That playful grin creeps up on her face again and I know exactly what she means. So, maybe she’s telling the truth after all because she and Sebastian have always been more ‘hands on’ than conversational.