Page 29

Amari

T he asshole is doing everything right. Opening doors for her, helping her to her seat, paying for her meal, making her laugh. And Carla is enjoying herself.

Goddamnit!

I’m pacing the roof of this small auto repair shop that sits right across from the restaurant she’s in, driving myself insane.

I want to rip Ackley’s head clean off his shoulders right now.

He’s a radical—I know it to be true. I’ve watched him for the past two days, and he’s in fact been in that radical bar at the border twice.

I don’t know what he’s got up his sleeve, but I know Carla’s a part of it.

I wanted to search his apartment for answers, but Kade and Damon denied me.

This is frustrating because I know there are answers in that apartment.

But Kade says she’s already snuck in a few times and has found nothing other than his arachnids.

I think there are answers in that apartment—she just doesn’t know what she’s looking for.

“Calm down, Amari,” Damon says, and I glare at him. Calm down? We just let her go on a date with a radical. No, I’m not going to fucking calm down right now.

“She’s on a date with a radical,” I hiss at him, still pacing. Damon grins at me.

“You seem highly invested in Carla, especially after I told you to stay away from her,” he says, raising an eyebrow at me.

“I’m not under your command anymore, Damon.

You’ve reminded me of that twice since I’ve been here.

Don’t tell me who I can or cannot see.” I snap and Damon approaches me, his green eyes cold.

He could take me down if he wanted. He’s older, more powerful.

I sigh and stop pacing, facing him as I adjust my suit.

“She’s not a conquest to me, Damon. I—I can’t explain it. It’s something else. Something more.” I say and Damon raises an eyebrow at me.

“Something more?” He smirks, but before I can say anything back, we’re both caught off guard by the expensive Range Rover that pulls up in front of this small town diner, looking completely out of place.

And when I catch the scent of who it is, I hold my hand up to Damon, walking toward the edge of the roof, looking down, my eyes narrowing when I see who cuts off the engine and climbs out of the SUV.

Alexis Blackburn.

She’s got an expensive tote bag clutched over her shoulder, and a larger man in a suit climbs out of the truck, following her into the diner.

Her curves are practically painted into her designer dress, the fabric clinging to her full ass that she puts on display with each swaying step.

But unlike Carla’s natural, earthy beauty, there’s something manufactured about Alexis—like a beautiful rose crossbred with toxic nightshade.

A pretty face with a fat ass, and that’s all she’s got going for her.

That, and the stench of radical hatred that seems to permeate her designer perfume.

“It’s a Blackburn,” Damon realizes, then he looks to me. I glare at him.

“Did you let her come on this date on purpose?” I ask, glaring at him. He adjusts his suit and slicks his hair back, not answering.

“You motherfucker. You let her come here knowing she would be bait.” I hiss at him. At this point, I’m ready to go down there myself and collect my woman.

Yes, my fucking woman.

“The night Verde and Petra were killed, we went to the bridge to collect their bodies, but they were gone. The radicals took them. I think they’re using their blood to help Ackley, and the others mask their scents,” Damon explains, watching Alexis and what appears to be her guard walk into the diner.

“That doesn’t explain how they got them in the first place,” I argue. Damon keeps his eyes on the building.

“They’ve been testing with simple arachnids. I think they got far enough to catch Carla and her children off guard, but they weren’t strong enough to capture one. Which is why I think those men sacrificed their lives for the cause. They knew they wouldn’t live after killing two of them.”

Damon’s gaze is distant, like he’s piecing together a puzzle with a thousand years of similar patterns to reference.

“I couldn’t confirm anything until you brought up that you caught Ackley in a radical bar.

He’s been careful for me not to catch him, but slipped up this time.

He’s being reckless because he knew he had Carla right where he wanted her. ”

My fists clench at my sides, the fabric of my suit pulling taut.

“They want Carla, and they know her children will follow her wherever she goes,” Damon continues. “Carla’s been having a very difficult time in Wintermoon. Hated, mistreated, and she’s done nothing to the humans and supernaturals on Wintermoon for it.”

The mental image of Carla walking through Wintermoon, eyes downcast as supernaturals step off the sidewalk to avoid her, the whispers following her like shadows—it makes my dead heart ache.

I’ve seen this pattern before, watched it play out with my own people.

The same crushing prejudice, just different characters.

“Ackley’s been that listening ear,” Damon says.

“That constant that’s always been around when no one is listening to her.

Kade’s not paying attention, and neither is Leah.

King Amir and Queen Anora are too busy basking in their love for their baby to really invest in what’s going on here.

But I’ve been watching. I’ve always been watching.

I see the game Ackley’s been playing. The way she always smiles when she feels like giving up. ”

I look at the building, realizing what they’re doing.

They’re playing with Carla’s head, trying to get her to turn her back on Wintermoon.

And it’s not like anyone on the land has given her a reason not to.

It’s making sense now, why Damon didn’t fight this date.

It’s what Ackley wanted—it would have only pushed her further to Ackley if Damon had tried to forbid it.

I look to Damon, my dead heart aching for Carla, to show her that she is wanted—and needed.

“What do we do now?” I ask him. Damon pulls out his coin from his pocket and starts to flip it, twirling it through his fingers.

“We wait.” I glare at him again.

“You want us to wait and see if she’s going to betray us—betray Wintermoon? What the fuck, Damon?” He shrugs.

“I have faith in Fate, and I also have faith in Carla. She’s not going to turn on us.”

“But yet she has every reason to,” I snap back. I turn away and head for the roof door. I’m going to go get her myself, but Damon’s at the door before I reach it, using his vampire speed.

“Damon...” I say, warning him. I just want to get her out of there.

“Amari, I know this is difficult for you, having to watch this, after you’ve done so much watching things fall apart,” he says, his voice softening.

“You’ve watched your civilization fall, and you’ve watched melanated people suffer under chattel slavery, and now you are watching white supremacy and idealized radical behavior destroy the world. ”

His words hit something raw inside me. The memories of Granada burning, the bodies swinging from trees in Alabama, the systematic destruction of Black lives through every institution America ever built—it all comes rushing back.

“I know you are tired of watching,” Damon continues, placing his hand on my shoulder. I look at it, angrily shaking him off. “I’m asking you to have faith in Fate. And trust that Carla will make the right decision.”

“I don’t want to see her hurt, Damon. You’re asking me to let them hurt her.” He grins at me.

“No, Amari. I’m asking you to give her the right to choose, and trust that she’ll make the right decision.”

I back away and walk back over to the edge of the roof, looking down at the diner. Damon follows, standing beside me.

“Knowing that Ackley spent all this time to get to know her, only to break her is going to destroy her.” Damon looks to me softly.

“It is, Amari. It’s going to send her back into the shadows,” he confirms, and I hang my head down wanting to weep for her.

“But there’s still hope.” Damon says, keeping his eyes ahead.

“Since you’ve come into Wintermoon, Carla smiles more.

Slaps you a lot too.” I chuckle lightly at that.

“You may feel like Wintermoon is a gilded cage—at least that’s what you like to call it, but to a formidable woman like Carla, it’s a home she never had.

” He looks to me, flipping his coin in my direction.

I catch it, opening my palm and looking down at it.

Heads. His silver denarius coin worn from centuries of flipping.

“I hope that when you take her out of this diner, that you give her the hope to stay.” I look up at him, a bit at a loss for words.

That’s the thing about Damon—you never truly know what he’s up to until you reach the end of the journey. It wasn’t Damon’s intention to have me secure the borders. He brought me here because he knew I’d be the one supernatural that would give her a reason to stay.

But what he doesn’t know is that while my heart doesn’t beat for this woman, she owns it—completely.

I can’t turn it off. I’m falling for Carla. Craving her in ways I don’t understand. And when I leave Wintermoon, I’m taking her with me.

I don’t understand this, how it’s even possible.

To want a woman my heart will never beat for.

Is this my punishment for being such a womanizer?

I haven’t exactly been the most uplifting to women over the centuries.

I use them for pleasure and sustenance and nothing more.

And now I’m falling for a woman I can’t have. And it’s killing me inside.

What I’d give for my heart to beat for this woman.

I’m suddenly pulled from my thoughts when I hear Carla say the words that could make my heart quicken, but it doesn’t.

“No. I’ll never turn my back on Wintermoon,” she says, and I look to Damon who’s raising an eyebrow at me, smirking.

Smart bastard.

I toss his coin back to him and adjust my suit. I just got the cue I needed to go get my woman and take her back home.

This date is over. Whether she likes it or not.

I don’t bother with heading for the roof door this time.

Instead, I step onto the edge of the roof, then jump down, landing perfectly on my feet, then adjust my suit.

Damon does the same, landing perfectly behind me.

He flips his coin, then starts walking with me across the street, but we stop when the ground suddenly rumbles.

Damon looks at me with a groan and says he expected this would happen.

The street to the diner is eerily quiet, like humans knew tonight was too dangerous for them to be on the streets.

We haven’t even seen a car pass by the area, another red flag that this whole date was orchestrated.

I’ve looked into Ackley—he’s a broke college student looking for money to fund his studies on arachnids.

He’s studying to become an arachnologist, specializing in spider venom compounds that could, when properly isolated, serve as undetectable masking agents.

And I’m starting to figure out how he’s going to come up with the money he needs now that Alexis is here.

The children suddenly come out of every corner, appearing in their full size.

Some are dinner-plate sized, others the size of small ponies.

Tofi is among the largest, her burgundy body as she approaches on the street, followed by Niko with his intricate patterns.

They slip from spaces that seem impossible for their size—from storm drains, from beneath parked cars, from the narrow gaps between buildings.

I smile at Damon, and he narrows his eyes at me.

“They are going to ruin everything and possibly get hurt,” Damon complains. I give Damon a wink and hold my hand up to him. Tofi approaches first, sending images of Carla being in danger to me. I smile and try to pet Tofi, but she gets irritated and shifts away.

“That one is feisty,” Damon says with a snort.

“She’s frustrated,” I say, looking back at him. “They’re tired of being ignored. They’ve warned Carla about putting her safety at risk.” Damon pauses for a moment, then approaches me.

“You can talk to them?” he questions, and I grin at him.

“Of course I can speak to them. I could always speak to my little friend Kemnebi. Why wouldn’t I be able to speak to them?

As a matter of fact, they call me daddy,” I say with a smug grin.

Damon takes his coin and places it in his pocket.

I look back to Tofi and the others. There are twenty of them here, but there are more.

I haven’t had the time to actually stop and take count or get all of their names.

“Tofi, I’m going to need you and the others to go back into hiding, for your safety,” I say, my tone cool.

I reach out to try and calm them but Tofi hisses at me this time.

I smile at that. They don’t play about their mother.

Neither do I. But it’s impressive, seeing what they’re willing to do to save her.

“Mommy has a knack for getting in trouble. You showed me that the other night, and what you’re willing to do to save her,” I say, standing firm. I don’t think they’ll hurt me. They’re still trying to warn me, thinking I’m not listening.

“I care for your mother,” I say, and Tofi finally relaxes.

I don’t think she believed I did. “I’m going inside to get her and bring her back home—to Wintermoon.

But I need you to listen to me.” I use the one thing I know they want to hear.

“Listen to Daddy. Listen to me. Go back into hiding, and I’ll get Mommy and bring her back to you.

But if you do this, try to get her back yourself, some of you will get hurt again, and we can’t have that. You know how it affects Mommy.”

Tofi and the others are quiet for a moment, but then Damon smiles. They must be sending him images as well.

“I didn’t know this is how they communicate,” Damon says, staring at them in amazement.

They send me images, warning of what they’re going to do to me and Damon if we fail.

They’re going to rip us to shreds, then feed on our bodies for days.

That makes me burst out into a dark laugh.

I look to Damon who’s clearing his throat and adjusting his tie.

But then Tofi starts to back away, and the others follow, going back into the shadows, disappearing into their small spaces like they were never here before. Damon looks to me in amazement.

“Daddy?” he questions with a smirk. I adjust my suit and roll my eyes at him, then head for the diner.

I’ll tell him about that part later.