Page 39 of Seas the Reckoning

Feral turns back to us.

“What do you think? Enough to garner his interest?”

Starla smirks.

“It will get you in the door. He’ll be dying of curiosity. But what will you tell him? There’s no actual deal, right?”

“Correct. That’s when I’ll continue to play on his view of himself as a classy host. Such an individual would never ignore all his other guests, and in particular not the daughter and suitors he’s trying to micromanage. He’ll be forced by good manners to offer me a room and extend me an invitation for the remainder of the weekend so he can find a time for us to meet privately. And I will graciously accept.”

“He said he was out of rooms,” Exos says.

“A lie,” Jackal responds without missing a beat. “He just doesn’t like us.”

“It’s genius,” Starla remarks.

“Nearly foolproof,” Ji-hwan admits.

“Not bad, mate,” Jackal adds.

“How will it get us more answers?” Months ago, I would never have posed the question. I would have let my anxieties over speaking out against someone as powerful as a god stop me.

But everything is on the line if we don’t break this curse and shut down Leon’s operation fully. The weekend may feel lower-stakes, but it’s all tied to something larger.

Feral looks at me.

“Fate will handle that, I have no doubt. I am here at your discretion. I will also dig for details that some might only give to a supernatural they view as having higher standing. What do you think?”

My thoughts rise like a tidal wave, ready to remind me of all the ways this could still go wrong.

But I can’t let that stop me from trying.

“I think I’m on board.”

With a god on our side, we might just stand a chance.

17

BREAKFAST OF CHAMPIONS

Starla is scowling before we even leave the room to go downstairs for breakfast. The witch’s rooms in the manor are spacious, and each of us slept in a canopy bed with an intricate wood frame, large area rugs underneath all the furniture.

“Who turns a full English into a double date?” Starla demands as she runs her fingers through her sleep-tousled hair.

We returned to Councilman Taylor’s home as promised, but I don’t think either of us are feeling rested. I longed to at least call Jackal and wish him goodnight, but Starla is probably right in assuming her father is keeping tabs on us in every room of the house. All our communication with the guys will be sparse or via text for the remainder of the weekend.

“Remind me again why Fer⁠—”

I give her a wide-eyed look before she can reference the gripe she had last night. Wanting Feral up here even sooner as a distraction.

I text her.

Because there are no official public activities here until later this afternoon. He wants to make his entrance when the grounds are at their busiest, and while your father will be distracted with ensuring his fancy dinner is going off without a hitch. Less chance to grow suspicious or refuse.

She rolls her eyes when she opens and reads the message, before sending me back a heart.

“May as well get on with the festivities,” she laments. “Come along, Carolina. Let us prepare.”

On the second statement, her accent slides from all-out Southern to the more formal one she’s donned around her father’s guests. My own voice has never had the same strong lilt as Starla’s, and I can only imagine it makes it easier for him to at least semi-approve of me.