Page 152 of Terror at the Gates

Maybe the only reason my stun gun had subdued it was because it had been weak, which begged the question: What were they capable of when they were at full capacity?

I touched the healing burn on my wrist. My tiny-ass dagger was nothing against a stronger version of the one I’d battled.

A sword would be better.

I doubted Saira would appreciate my desire to see her precious Deliverer reforged to fight jelly monsters in the night, but we were motivated by different things.

When the segment ended, I told Coco to change the channel. I didn’t want to risk seeing anything about the destruction of Leviathan House, though I wasn’t sure if it would make the news this soon. The commission usually decided when and how to communicate about deaths in the families. It was possible they would keep the details vague to discourage copycats. Since they couldn’t hide a house explosion, they would probably attribute the cause to a gas leak, though I didn’t plan to lie about the way my parents died.

I wanted everyone to know they’d been blown apart and by whom, but I was going to need some concrete evidence before I made any kind of accusation.

We sat in the family room for a few hours together. Despite what was going on in my brain, I was happy to be near two of my closest friends. Coco and I took turns holding Liam, trading off when our arms got tired, until Gabriel took him into the other room to change him.

It was at that point Fawna announced lunch was ready. I was surprised, but only because I’d grown so used to fending for myself, unless I was at Esther’s. She led us into the dining room where she had set the table. Though she hadn’t gone formal with her setup, it was still more dishes than we would need.

“I have prepared chicken salad and a squash soup,” she said. “There is extra bread in the basket and whipped butter beside it. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“The water is fine,” I said. “Thank you, Fawna.”

“Water’s great,” Coco added. “And thank you. Everything is so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Miss D’Arsay,” Fawna replied, smiling. It was a little more sincere than the one she’d given me earlier this morning, and I realized, despite having distancedmyself from the grandeur of my family, there was a part of me that still just expected this. It wasn’t that I dismissed the effort. I just didn’t think about it, and that made me feel like a huge asshole.

“If you need anything, I’ll be just through here,” she said, disappearing through the adjacent doors.

Coco and I took seats.

“Do we serve ourselves?” Coco asked. “What if I get soup on the tablecloth?”

I smiled at her. “No one will care if you get soup on the tablecloth, Coco. That’s what it’s for.”

“I don’t want to make more work for Fawna,” she said.

“Give me your bowl,” I said. “I’ll serve you.”

“This is another one of your hidden talents,” she said as I ladled soup into the bowl. I stopped short of saying it wasn’t a talent, which was my usual answer, because I resented basically everything my mother had taught me.

Gabriel joined us, but he was quiet and barely touched his food. I wondered if it was because he didn’t like it, or maybe the presentation reminded him too much of Esther, and the thought also stole my appetite.

As we were finishing up, I heard the front door open, and I bolted from the dining room into the foyer, thinking that Zahariev had arrived, but it was Cassius.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

“Ugh. What are you doing back?” I asked.

“Apparently, I am a glorified errand boy,” he said. “Zahariev sent me to return your phone, but maybe I should keep it since you don’t appreciate the deliverer.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I take nudes with that phone.”

Cassius sighed as he reached into his pocket. “Just another thing I didn’t need to know about you.”

I snickered as I reclaimed it, but my mood shifted once I had it in hand. As unlikely as it was, I’d hoped to see a message or missed call, something from my father that showed he’d tried to reach me before he died, but there was nothing.

“You’re not going to cry, are you?” Cassius asked, a note of panic in his voice.

“She can cry if she wants,” said Gabriel, entering the foyer behind Coco. “She just lost her parents, asshole.”

I winced. No one had actually said that aloud yet.