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Miles and Julian tensed at my question, but I could hardly pay them any mind. I felt so guilty.

“What makes you so important that it’d be your fault?” Mr. Weaver looked at me.

“Because…” I said, pressing my toes against the floor. I felt like a child in the prelude of a strict scolding. “Dr. Stephens was helping me. I asked everyone to help me research the house.”

“Ah, so it was you !” Mr. Weaver exclaimed.

“I’m sorry!” I squeezed my eyes shut and tightened my shoulders. Going into this, I hadn’t expected anyone to die. Justice would be swift and terrible. But when he didn’t respond—or maybe I missed it—I cracked my right eye open.

He was studying me, lips twisting, before he nodded. “Okay then.”

The tight feeling in my chest softened. “Okay…?” I asked. Granted, he’d taken the news of his death in stride—he seemed to be more annoyed at the method than the actual event—but how could he not hold a grudge? “I’m no better than a criminal. ”

“What you are is ridiculous.” Mr. Weaver snorted. “You’re hardly able to control other people’s actions.”

I blinked at his frowning form. But this time, I noticed all the life he might have had left in his decrepit frame.

Despite being old, he was a tall, broad man.

He must have been strong. Perhaps he had even dreamed of wrestling a bear before death claimed him. And now, because of me, he never would.

Mr. Weaver shrugged. “I’ve already told you I have no regrets. Besides only,” he began, anger beginning to leak through his expression, “the pure injustice of it all!”

Julian and Miles, unable to see nor hear Mr. Weaver, continued to focus on me.

“How could you even think that?” Julian sounded furious.

Meanwhile, Miles was sitting on his heels, studying me as if noticing something for the first time. “You’re seriously worked up over this, aren’t you?” he asked.

Why shouldn’t I be?

“Darling, relax.” Julian’s voice softened. He brushed his fingers over the area behind my ear, and instantly, my breathing evened out.

In the meantime, Mr. Weaver paused in his ramblings as he looked between us. “Interesting,” he said, eyes lingering over Julian’s hovering form. “Very interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” I tore the rest of my attention from Julian to look at the ghost.

“Other than the Lord of Death doting on you?” he asked. “You really have no idea how to deal with being an empath, do you? What a terrible job your people have done.”

“Well, if you have such a problem with it, take it up with them!” I felt my hackles rise. How dare he call Julian such a thing! I’d never known anyone gentler than him. “More power to you if you can figure out who they are because I certainly haven’t a clue!”

He hummed, cocking his head as he looked at me one moment longer before he vanished.

“He’s so rude,” I muttered, glaring at the empty place he’d once inhabited.

“Ah,” Julian said. “I take it Caleb has gone now?” In the background, Miles sat up a bit straighter.

“What was that?” I asked him, the swelling of my temper ebbing at his contemplative expression.

“He’s a Proxy Officer, an Elder,” Julian explained, shrugging. He didn’t seem surprised. “That’s why he could enter Damen’s house despite the wards. Knowing him, he probably took what you said as a personal challenge.”

“Isn’t that bad though?” Miles asked, leaning forward in his seat. “We didn’t want anyone to know about her yet, right?”

Julian looked at the space where Mr. Weaver had been. “It’ll take him some time to work it out,” he said. “Plus, it’s not like Caleb has ever been a fan of the Council. He’s mistrustful of the whole organization. He wouldn’t tell, right?”

“Right,” Damen cut into the conversation, answering Julian’s question. He and Titus stood in the doorway—how long they’d been there, I didn’t know. But neither Miles nor Julian appeared to be surprised. Damen was watching me, attention wandering from my ankles to my bare arms, and he frowned.

“What are you still doing awake?” he asked. “You should go to bed.”

I couldn’t do that now. “What’s the Council?” I asked instead.

“A group of individuals representing every supernatural group outside the context of their quintet,” Damen answered, crossing his arms. “They exist to bring balance against our influence in this world and keep things consistent between generations. And—” he’d crossed the room and touched my nose.

“—not your concern right now. Focus on one disaster at a time. We’ll deal with your ghost friend and question Finn first. Then we’ll discuss the Council. ”

“He’s not my friend,” I responded. Before he could move away, I grabbed his hand. “Hey…” I hesitated to push this, but I was tired of being lied to. “Are you sure I don’t need to worry about them?”

Damen was steadfast as he squared his jaw. “They are an issue that I need to worry about,” he said. “Right now, your job is to get orientated.”

He pulled me to my feet and pushed my folded sleep clothes into my hands. “Get some sleep so you’ll be functional tomorrow. You and I have an early dinner with Gregory after your afternoon classes.”

“Okay!” I nodded and hugged the clothes to my chest. Damen was going to take me out to eat? This was exciting.

It wasn’t until after he ushered me from the room, and I closed the door of the small hallway bathroom behind me, that I realized he’d never answered my question.

I somehow managed to sleep peacefully in Damen’s overindulgent bed. When I went downstairs the next morning, Julian and Titus were the only people hanging around the kitchen. They were sitting in the breakfast nook, conversing in low voices. When I approached, they stopped.

“Good morning,” Julian greeted me as I covered a yawn. “I was just about to head out. Titus will drop you off today.”

I glanced at the other man. He also looked quite tired, yet still managed to smile at me while touching his fingers to his forehead in a little salute.

“Are you sure?” I asked him. “I can take the bus.” Although, really, I’d rather not. “And I still need to check on Professor Hamway’s house.” I sighed, sitting down next to Julian.

“Don’t worry about that,” Julian said, brushing my wild morning hair over my shoulder. “We’ve already asked Bryce to look into it.”

“Bryce!” I recoiled and stared at Julian. How could they? This was a horrible morning surprise.

“Think of it as practice,” Titus told me. “For when you get to have him do your bidding.”

“Oh.” I blinked, and my annoyance vanished instantly. Why, yes, he did have a point.

Julian reached across the table and smacked the other man’s arm. “Don’t tell her that.” He glared at him. “That is not at all what she’s supposed to do!”

It sounded like a good idea to me.

So, Titus, too, like Damen and I, liked to torment Bryce?

I could hear the conversation continuing around me, but my thoughts had moved on. I shook my head, focusing on the present as the two men continued.

“Anyway,” Julian said, speaking to Titus. “Unless something happens, I’ll be back late tonight.”

“It’s fine,” Titus answered. “Maria scheduled me to meet with Alexander about our contract, but I’ll cancel.”

Julian crossed his arms and frowned at the table. “You probably shouldn’t do that. I’m sure Damen can handle himself responsibly for a time.”

I thought they all worked in separate professions. Did they still help each other with everyday tasks?

“What about you, Bianca?” Julian looked at me. “Do you need anything from your dorm today? Or are you good with clothes and toiletries?”

“I guess,” I replied. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to take over Damen’s bedroom, but I could make do.

“I forgot my hairbrush,” I admitted, pulling a section of my hair over my shoulder.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t too knotted. “I’ll just braid it before I go to class and stop by my room to fix it later. ”

“I’ll do your hair before we leave,” Titus said.

I was in the process of finger-brushing through a tangle and looked at him.

Titus glanced away, skin flushing, as he shrugged. “My mother taught me how to braid—her hair was past her knees. I don’t mind.”

I was momentarily speechless. Titus was the least expected person in our group to have this skill. But, again, it would be helpful—my hair was well on its way to that length. “Okay,” I replied. My face grew warm as I looked down at the table. “Thank you.”

Julian glanced at his black leather watch and uncrossed his leg. “I need to head out,” he told us. He pressed the tips of his pointer and middle finger to his mouth before he touched my forehead. “I’ll see you later. Have a good day.”

“Oh, okay,” I said again, touching my head as I watched him leave the table.

On his way out, he turned to Titus, and—if I wasn’t mistaken—his expression was one of hopeful encouragement. “Good luck,” he told him.

Good luck?

I glanced back to Titus, who only waved Julian away. What did Titus need luck for?

It took longer to do my hair than I’d expected, although the results were much better than anything I could have accomplished on my own.

Titus had styled my hair in a crown braid with loose tendrils that framed my face, the result of which made me feel like a fairytale princess.

However, by the time he pulled his tan Range Rover into the library parking lot, I only had fifteen minutes until my classes began.

“Thank you for dropping me off,” I told him and pulled my backpack over my shoulders. “Sorry I made you late for work.”

Maria would be extremely displeased.

“Actually,” he began. Then, he stopped as he lowered his sunglasses and turned down the instrumental piece he’d been listening to on the radio. “When you own the company, you’ll find you can create your own hours,” Titus replied.

His mouth was saying one thing, but somehow, I didn’t believe him.

I could tell there was something bothering him. He’d been bouncing his knee ever since we parked, and he tapped his finger on the wheel as he spoke.