Page 11 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

My eyes met seething blues across the table before Ma spoke. “We have no evidence to support this suspicion.”

“Except for the elaborate style of the attack,” Calypso pointed out. My head whipped toward her, finding her staring Ma down.

I fucking loved my sister.

“Cyrus doesn’t act unless he’s certain, and I, for one, believe him.”

“Heiress,” Lynx admonished, “with all due respect, neither you nor your second were alive when we last encountered the Wraith. Those of us who met her would know if she were back.”

“So explain the warning on the wall,” Carr demanded.

“This is undoubtedly a personal assault,” Father assured. “But jumping to conclusions serves no one. We will ensure a proper investigation⁠—”

“In which we will find nothing,” I promised, irritation brewing in my blood. If I was right—and my gut was certain I was—the Wraith wouldn’t have left breadcrumbs beyond what she wanted us to know. Which meant she had once again reincarnated under well-enforced wards.

“You can send Nix and his Wings after whatever glimmers remain behind the human police, but unless she wants us to know something, it will be wasted effort.”

“Why so certain?” Portia inquired, her jaw set but eyes more curious than suspicious.

I stared at my hands for a long minute before lifting my face to meet her gaze.

“Call it intuition.”

“Cyrus!”

My sister’s voice rang off the walls, halting my steps with a rubber screech over the marble. The meeting had gone as well as I’d expected—which is to say, terribly. Until Calypso sat at the head of that table, my knack for history and analysis would serve precisely no one. I pulled a cigarette from its case as I turned to face her.

“Don’t start, Cal.”

She would, in fact, start. Evidently with my smokes, as she plucked mine from my fingers. Pursing my lips in irritation, I fished another from the pack.

“You know better than to come at her head-on like that.”

“By now, she should know better than to discount research.”

“Tempers are high,” she said, canting her head when I ran my tongue over a molar before popping the roll between my lips. I slid my hand into the silky interior of my jacket pocket to grab a lighter.

“And tolerance was already running low,” she added, in the most unnecessary understatement of the century.

Of three things, I was certain:

One—January was always a terrible time for confrontation with our mother. The echo of our brother’s loss hung heaviest in the weeks leading up to the anniversary of Charles' death. Unfortunately, that also explained my lack of propriety. Everyone—the queen included—could get fucked.

Two—We stood on an unforeseen precipice, both historically and personally. Calypso was weeks away from reverse-engineering a weapon wielded against the Wings last month that could change the face of not only the coming conflict but the future power dynamics of every hierarchy on the planet. It was not the time for added drama.

Three—Tensions on my aunt’s border were at an all-time high. No doubt due to the acquisitions our team had recently prioritized to facilitate said weapon. Petty bitch though she may be, Reyna Gwyne commanded some of the best healers east of the Rockies. Their medicinal gardens were second to none. That didn’t mean any of them took kindly to us utilizing them without permission. A Paladin caught in Bellaton territory would face no mercy. Which made investigating an enemy on their side of the river annoyingly daunting.

Of course, tolerance was low. Begrudgingly lighting my cigarette with a click, I mumbled, “You think?” before taking a long drag. With a glare, my sister took three long strides to throw open the front door, motioning for me to lead the way. Only once we were in the crisp air on the front step did she hold out a hand for the lighter.

“I believe you, Cy, but the council will require more than a penchant for folklore and a gut instinct.”

“Clearly,” I grunted, blowing out a long stream of smoke.

“What would you have me do?”

“You’re the heiress, not me.”

My sister held my stare for a long moment, both of us taking another drag as she chewed over that rebuttal before calmly responding.