Page 48 of A Wild Darkness

My heart leaps into my throat. “Hello?”

“Who am I speaking to?” A familiar voice is on the other end of the line. Silas, the leader, is asking to verify he called the correct person—or that the right person answered the phone.

“This is the Dark Prince. Who is this?”

“Good. I have the next location for you and Ms. Annabel Lee.”

I straighten. “Go on.”

“We will be hosting a dinner party,” he begins. “A way to get to know you and Ms. Lee. And to get reacquainted with one another after our year-long hiatus. The members have only come to town in the last few weeks.”

I flip open my laptop and take some informal notes as he speaks. “Year-long?”

“Yes?” His tone sharpens, as if put off by my question. “Did Andrew not mention the frequency of our meetings?”

I have a million questions in my head—things I want to know. Assuming whatever he isn’t willing to say over the phone, I can simply revisit during the dinner party. “My apologies. He gave me a little information to respect the Society’s privacy.”

“Much admiration for that man.” Silas’s voice lightens, satisfied with my response. But his compliment makes my jaw clench because I know what kind of man Andrew Hughes was. “You will learn more at the dinner party. Where we’ll be able to speak freely.”

“Okay. Where and when should we expect this event?”

“Tomorrow evening. You will drive to the library downtown. When you pull into the main parking lot, follow the curve around to the back and park under the old oak tree. There, you will see a few other cars and a guard will confirm your identity before granting you entry to a storm cellar with two wooden doors attached at ground level.”

“How will he know it’s me?”

“I will text you a password that will get you in.”

“When?”

“When I’m sure you’re the one who’s showing up. Both of you need to wear the white roses.”

I guess I’ll have to get more flowers.

“We will. Anything else we need to be aware of?” I ask in a last attempt at more information.

“Make sure you bring something to prove yourself with.” A lightness in his voice sounds like he’s hiding a chuckle and like I should know what he’s referring to. I know it’s part of the role—the game we’re playing, but this secretive shit is pissing me off.

Unexpectedly, my cell phone vibrates on the glass top of my desk. It’s Christian calling to touch base about last night and the masquerade mall, but I let it go to voicemail.

“And that is?”

“Goodbye,” Silas says before the line goes silent.

With frustration, I toss the burner phone onto my desk.

“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath. I would never consider myself a person who needs to have control, but I’m realizing now that it’s partially gone, how essential it is.

My eyes dart over to my phone. I need to call Christian back. Snatching the device off my desk, then slumping back into the leather office chair, I swipe into his name.

As always, he answers on the first ring. “Sebastian.”

“Hey, man. Sorry I missed your call.”

“No worries. Just wanted a recap on how the masquerade ball went last night,” he says.

“They made us wait for a while after we arrived before they made contact. Then, once they did, we were instructed to find the library. There were seven people covered from head to toe in long, hooded cloaks.”

“Seven?” he repeats, confirming the count I stated.