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I flinch. It's not like I need reminding. So much for making up for our fight and uniting today. Maybe this is our new normal now. Brooklyn storms out of her room, I assume, to the car, and I follow her and bump into my mother along the way.

Oh, Druids. She’s wearing a black lace veil that covers her face like the Italian movie stars used to. With matching lace gloves and a black lace dress, she’s being extra dramatic, even by her standards. At least she’s ready. Edie Rhodes is going to make today all about her. I don’t know why I expected more, even if we’re all mourning Lexie. She hasn’t been a mother to me in years, so I don’t know why I thought today would be different. She barely even looks at me as she huffs, “I’ll see you in the car. Your father needed a moment.”

Ignoring her, I walk past her and into my parents’ room. It's just as luxurious as I remember, with all the cream finishes and high ceilings,more like something for a catalog than a place anyone actually sleeps in. They have a separate dressing room, bathroom, and eventually, their actual bedroom, which has a balcony that overlooks our estate. I find Dad sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. Eric Rhodes still cuts an imposing figure with his attractive looks, and he looks good in his suit.

Taking a moment to observe him, I try to put my finger on it. At the wedding, he seemed indifferent about Lexie’s murder, but since we’ve been home, he’s been nothing but angry. And now, he seems devastated, and I don’t know how to deal with that. It makes me wonder if there is hope for us. Even if hope is dangerous because it means he can disappoint me again.

I don’t think he’s even noticed me entering, so I clear my throat. “Dad? We’re going to be late if we don’t go soon.”

Looking up at me, I can see he’s been crying, and it seems like he’s aged drastically in such a short time. Having your daughter murdered will do that to you, I guess. We don’t have time to deal with this now. We just need to get through today first.

Is this what he was doing for us this whole time?

When he speaks, he even sounds older. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I love you girls. It shouldn’t be Lexie we’re burying today. It should be me.”

Where has this side of Dad been the whole time? As much as I would love to have a heart to heart with him and clear the air, we’re going to be late, and I know he will hate that more. Bending down until I’m at his eye level, I urge him along.

“Dad, I don’t want to rush you, but we’re going to be late. I need you to go wash your face, straighten your tie, and pretend for me today. Once it’s done, we can continue this chat if you want to. I would like that.”

Nodding, he gets up and does as he’s told, like he needs someone to take control, and I wait for him to finish. Grabbing his suit jacket, I follow him out the door. Walking down the staircase, towards the front door, my ears pick up a news report from one of the TVs that were left on. Something about an increase of unexplained murders and vandalism. Turning to look at Dad, I raise my eyebrow at him. He shrugs, sounding a little more like his usual self, at least. “That wasn’t me. After yesterday, I stopped trying to find Lexie’s murderer. You were right. We need a better strategy.”

Trying my best to sound soothing yet stern, I say, “I’m glad you can agree. You’ve fought so long for this family to stay together, so let's not ruin it by acting irrationally. After the funeral, let’s go visit Dom and find out if there is a spell he can do for us that might help us figure this out.”

Accepting that, Dad turns, and we exit the house together. It’s an overcast day, and I am relieved I have kept the whole ceremony inside. Except, I stop walking when we get to the car because Sebastian is waiting outside for me, and I’m confused.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He seems sincere as he explains, “I wanted to be here for you today. No strings attached.” Even with his declaration that he broke my heart to protect me, it’s too late. There is always a string attached with him. But if I make a big deal of sending him away, and Dad hears that the Rogue’s threatened my life, it will cause more drama and I want to avoid that today.

Inspecting his dashing outfit, I tell him, “I forgot to ask, what’s up with the tattoos? Those are new.” Even in his suit, some of them peek out of his neck, and I can see some on his hands. With a small grin on his face, he tells me, “It's a long storyfor another day.”

Accepting his presence, he leans over and kisses me on the forehead before he gets into the car with us. Today is not the day to deal with Alyssa. But I will when the time is right. As we drive away, I can’t help thinking about my past with Sebastian. He’s taught me we all want to be loved unconditionally, and if we lose that love, we will do terrible things to get it back. No matter the cost.

Chapter 11 | The Last Word

Luca

I’ve made a point of avoiding a church if I can, but today, there is no way around it. When my mother and I arrive, we immediately walk towards the gathering of funeral guests at the edge of the church grounds. The mood is somber, and no one bothers with greetings as the mournful music echoes throughout the grounds. Walking towards the church, with our heads bowed in respect, I keep my arm hooked through Mom’s as we follow the Hart’s in front of us.

The muffled sound of tears occasionally reaches me as we pass the angel statues on the ground. I ignore her because it feels like the bitch is judging me for not coming here enough, but I spare a moment of appreciation for the gargoyles that guard the entrance of the church.

Entering the church in a single file with the Rhodes’ family leading us, we’re greeted with the choir’s roster of songs as we all find our seats. A resounding thud echoes throughout the church as we all sit, and it's an effort to hide my disgust at being back in this place. It's not that I’m against religion or spirituality; I just struggle to accept thisholier than thouattitude the church exhibits. We all sleep, eat, and fuck the same way. So why should we pretend we’re better than others just because of a deity some decided to believe in? And to top it off, the church has shown me nothing but contempt, so I’m just returning the favor.

Church people always have this whole poverty act going on for them, but judging the state of this place, they’re definitely doing more than okay. It makes me wonder what they get up to behind closed doors to achieve all this wealth. The fresco on the roof depicts a Holy War, and while stunning, I know something like that is expensive to maintain. The stained glass windows are exceptional and look freshly hand painted. There is a gold statue of Mary and Jesus in front, which I’m pretty sure is real, and the wooden pews gleam in the sun coming through the windows. And that’s without my assessment of the priest's robes.

Excuse me,minister.

Double checking the program for the ceremony, I see the terminology has changed, and I’m clearly a bit out of touch with the latest church terminology. But who cares? They’re all still judgy pricks, the lot of them. But whatever helps them sleep at night.

Turning my gaze to the minister in the front of the church, I wonder what he would say if he knew what I was. The myths were wrong. I can step foot in a church, and I would love to show him just how comfortable my unholy ass is, right under his nose.

We snagged a seat somewhere in the middle of the church. A few seats ahead of me, I can see Jude with the rest of the Rhodes family, with Sebastian sandwiched between them. Eric…looks unwell. He seems unkempt, less self assured. Granted, he’s burying his daughter today. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this.

It makes me wonder why he wants to have the funeral in a church. Druids have their own ceremonies, which they have to hide from the public. It's probably to maintain appearances. Even if the families have never pretended to be good people, they still play the game. If money is the route of all evil, it's something we’ve profited off heavily, and we’re not complaining about it.

There is a part of me that wishes the myths got it right, and that I could use it as an excuse not to be here because it smells like death. Similar to most things relating to the senses, it all depends on the perception of the person smelling it. To me, Amelia smells like passion fruit, but to another Undead, she could smell like something else. To me, death in a church smells like blood that’s been sitting baking in the sun for days…It’s not a pleasant smell to someone with my gifts. But Jude needs me and so do the Undead. That's what being an heir means. I can put aside my strong feelings on this subject for a few hours if I need to.

I block out whatever biblical thing the minister is saying about souls being commended to heaven. Did he know what a bitch Lexie was? Trying not to snort, I wonder what the minister would do if he knew I drank blood, and I’m hiding my fangs from sight? Reflecting on my first experience with a church, the priest told me I was going to burn in hell for liking girls, and I should repent for my sins. While I was young at the time, I remember clearly wanting to rip his throat out for saying that to me. Jude never knew that she saved a priest’s life that day.