Page 24 of Seas the Reckoning

I’m shocked and impressed that she’s playing her role so well.

But what if she tries to uncover something about your curse while here alone? What if she puts herself in danger, and no one is here to help?

“However, it was also part of the agreement with my coven that I be allowed others to accompany me, and I’m not sure whether this breaches that portion of the agreement.” Starla taps her chin.

Councilman Taylor scowls.

“As I said, I regrettably do not have the space to offer to the rest of your party. Although …”

“Yes?” Starla grasps on to the possibility.

“Well, your rooms are spacious. And we’ve had a bed placed in what was your study for the purpose of accommodating more guests, since I host functions regularly. While propriety obviously dictates I not offer it to the gentlemen present, I should think Carolina might make use of the area. That would solve the issue, would it not?”

“Me?” I squeak.

Councilman Taylor turns to me.

“What do you say, Carolina. Would you grace us both with your presence? I’d be happy to orchestrate some introductions on your behalf as well. No doubt my daughter would be more agreeable to some of my social planning if they were designed more as double dates.”

My brain screeches to a halt as I realize what he’s implying.

Ji-hwan begins to cough, loudly. Councilman Taylor turns to the Were, who appears to be choking on his scotch.

It’s a good cover for Jackal’s low growl and the way he steps protectively close to me.

“No,” he whispers into my ear.

It’s times like this I really wish we could speak into each other’s minds, like stories say some mates are able to do, but I’ve never seen it with my own eyes. Perhaps it’s just a legend.

“For Starla,” I whisper back.

I squeeze his hand, but drop it quickly.

“Okay,” he says, stepping back as Ji-hwan pretends to compose himself and the councilman turns back to me.

I plaster on a smile, managing a sad imitation of Starla’s curtsy.

“I would be delighted.”

“Wonderful. Now, I have just a few more small details to finalize with my daughter. I hope the rest of you will enjoy the cocktail hour. We’ll join you soon.”

Starla’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t object.

We place our glasses back down on the silver tray, filtering out of the room one by one through a door that a manor servant holds open.

It slides shut behind us with almost no sound at all, but I feel something heavy inside me all the same.

We’re really into things now.

12

EAST GARDEN GAB

When Starla and her father rejoin us on a stone patio overlooking the west garden, she is all smiles. Her arm is looped through the councilman’s. She’s laughing, and while I still wouldn’t call his expression happy, he’s missing any of the tension or wrinkles that increased when he frowned.

Approval, perhaps?

The most noticeable thing about either of them, however, is visible on Starla’s arms. Her tattoos are gone. The gorgeous blackwork pieces depicting everything from a stingray to a shark to a shell to a lightning strike. They’ve entirely ceased to exist.