Page 8 of Illusory (The Marked Saga #8)

I stepped outside of the Blackburn Estate to collect myself, peering up at the overcast sky in search of the ever-evasive sun that had abandoned me long ago. I fruitlessly tried to remember when the last time I’d been outside was. It had to have been days, possibly even weeks, and suddenly I felt like a bat coming out of its cave in the middle of the day, squinting and grumbling profanity as my eyes tried to adjust to the light.

Folding down onto the front stoop, I wiped away at the wetness still slicking my cheeks and stared out at the hazy, fog-kissed grounds, struggling to make sense of the rioting thoughts that were currently holding my mind hostage.

How had everything gone so horribly wrong? Everything I loved and worked so hard for had been demolished in the span of twenty-four hours. My heart was left in shambles, withering away with the kind of ache that wasn’t even pain anymore. It was unqualified annihilation. Murder of the heart in the first degree. Unmendable and completely…deserved.

My legs screamed at me to get up and start running, to keep going until I was light years away from Hollow Hills and all of its crushing anguish. To leave it all behind and never again step foot in this godforsaken town that had brought me nothing but heartache and grief. And I’d seriously contemplated it for a long, agonizing minute, wondering how far I could get before any of them noticed I was gone.

Would they even care at this point?

Would I?

Even though I loved Dominic and Trace with the whole of my entire being, I was fairly certain that I had finally managed to nuke both of those relationships simultaneously.

Dominic’s feelings for me were as good as dead in the water—that much was glaringly obvious to me. The night we spent together in his cell was nothing more than a means to a lust-filled end. It had only been about sex for him. Nothing more and nothing less.

Sure, he wasn’t actively trying to kill me anymore, but what we had before his emotions had been shut off…that was dead and gone now. Obliterated with everything else his sire had taken. He wouldn’t have walked out on me last night if it wasn’t. He wouldn’t have abandoned me when I needed him the most.

And then there was Trace. My soulmate. The one I had turned into the thing he despised most in this world. The one who now loathed me with every living fiber that remained of his being. So much so that he couldn’t even stand to look at me anymore, to hear the sound of my voice or my futile apologies, and honestly, I didn’t even fault him for it either.

I didn’t fault either of them.

A part of me supposed it was probably what I deserved. I’d been far too lucky in love anyway, too greedy, believing I could somehow keep them both. That I could have my pretty cake and eat it too. Most people never managed to find even one great love of their lives . I’d somehow managed to find two and gave myself fully and willingly to both of them, knowing in my heart of hearts that it was never going to end well.

Time and time again, I’d refused to pick between the two of them, unable to even fathom the idea of doing such a thing, and now the Fates had intervened on my behalf and decided once and for all that I should have neither one.

The realization gutted me, shredded and gnawed at my soul from the inside out and made me want to run away even faster and further. To throw myself down to Hell like the abomination I was and take my chances there. But mostly, it made me want to fold into myself and just cease entirely.

But still, I didn’t move an inch.

Something deeper than my urge to run away from the heartbreak was holding me in place then. Surprisingly, it wasn’t because of Trace or Dominic, or my love for them, or that deep-seeded, everlasting hope that despite all probability, they might still find a way to forgive me someday. To love me again.

It was deeper than even that.

The truth was, I had too much unfinished business here. Too many scores to settle. Despite the turmoil churning in my heart, something weighty and grievous called out to me from some place deep within my makeup, reminding me of who I was and what I was born to do. That I couldn’t just give up and walk away. That I couldn’t let the ones that had wronged me—wronged so many of us—get away without having to pay the price for it.

Even if that meant staying in Hollow Hills longer than I wanted to. Even if that meant having to wake up to the misery of losing Trace and Dominic day in and day out until my business here was done.

In all the chaos of unrequited love and uncertain futures, there was one thing I knew for sure: I was born to vanquish beasts and slay dragons, and I wasn’t going anywhere until every last one of those fuckers drew their final breath. Nikki. The Horsemen. The Senior Magister. The entire backwards Order. They’d gotten away with far too much for far too long and it was time for them to pay the piper.

My days of running and hiding and taking it laying down were over. If I had to wake up and face the music, to pay for the sins of my flesh, then so would they. They would rue the day they ever crossed paths with me, and they would remember my name long after I was gone.

Whatever magic I needed to learn, I would learn it. Whatever books I needed to read, I would read them. How ever many hours I needed to train, I would double them.

Whatever it took, however long it took, I would do it. Because I was the motherfucking Daughter of Hades and I may have been a shitty bet in love, but payback was a mighty, vengeful bitch, and I vowed to become the worst bitch this town had ever seen.

* * *

I made my way back inside a short while later with renewed purpose and a clearer head. Even though my own life was in complete shambles, I was going to put my personal troubles and aching heart on the backburner so that I could focus on what needed to be done now . Something much bigger than myself and my crumbling love life was calling out from deep within me, urging me toward the path I’d been born to walk.

And this time, I was listening to it.

Tessa and Jaqueline were both still in the kitchen, chatting around the kitchen island when I returned, though Gabriel no longer appeared to be with them. I could only assume that he had returned to the basement to check in on Trace, but I tried not to give that very much thought. The less time I allowed myself to think about Trace or Dominic or what that monumental loss would truly mean for me, the better chance I’d have of staying focused on my endgame long enough to survive these next few weeks without them.

And then, and only then, could I be done with this town and everyone in it.

“Where do we start?” I asked no one in particular as I came to a full stop across from them at the kitchen island and met each of their gazes. The cold glint in my eyes and clipped tone made it clear that we weren’t going to be discussing anything other than my schedule for the day.

Tessa and Jaqueline exchanged a quick glance before meeting my eyes again.

“Right now, you should probably work on combat training until we get the grimoires sorted out. You can start with disarmament and takedown techniques…with your sister,” supplied Jaqueline, drawing out the last part as if to test it against any resistance.

But I wouldn’t give her any. “Fine, and after that?” I asked, needing to stack my schedule as high as I could and bury myself in my work until all I could see was the finish line.

“There is no after that ,” she answered gravely as she tucked a strand of her ebony hair behind her ear. “You do it until . If you aren’t eating, sleeping, or studying, you need to be honing your abilities and working on controlling your magic, and you need to do it each and every day until calling it up is like second nature to you.”

“Fine,” I agreed easily. “Then that’s what I’ll do.”

“And you’re still going to need someone to help you learn how to port,” reminded Tessa, her tone and eyes cautious, as though she were wary of broaching that topic again since we both knew who she meant by someone . “Unless you’re planning on giving up the Sang Noir to the Order.”

I most certainly was not.

“Get me whatever books you can find on porting, and I’ll figure out the rest.”

Tessa looked as though she wanted to say something, like she thought it was a stupid idea or a waste of time being that we had a Reaper just twenty feet away from us, but she knew better than to bring that up again.

“Whatever. It’s your fucking funereal,” she muttered under her breath and then pushed away from the counter. I was just about to fling a retort at her when she threw her palm in the air and silenced me at the sound of the front door opening and shutting in the distance.

My heart promptly jumped up between my ears and started pounding in my head as I silently prayed it wasn’t the Order coming to ambush me before I had a chance to finish my morning coffee.

“Who the hell is that?” I hissed over the counter as I listened to two very distinct sets of footfalls coming from the foyer. The confusion was only heightened by the fact that everyone we knew and wanted here was already in the house—minus one vampire who couldn’t be out during the day anyway.

“How the hell should I know?” answered Tessa as she reached out and grabbed an oversized carving knife from the butcher block. With her free hand still raised, she signaled for us to stand back as she quietly crept toward the kitchen doorway that led to the hallway.

One set of footsteps were still marching toward us while the second set had disappeared altogether as though we were about to get ambushed from all sides.

“Fucking Christ,” said Tessa and then lowered the knife unceremoniously.

Relief immediately flooded my body as Caleb Owens appeared at the doorway, his hair tousled like he’d ran his hands through it a few too many times on the way over here and his eyes glimmering with the usual mixture of mischief and preppy arrogance.

“Morning, Blackburns ,” he announced cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to the carving knife in my sister’s hand or how close he’d come to being on the receiving end of it. His mouth curved into a toothy grin as he crossed the room and then dropped a huge stack of textbooks onto the kitchen island in front of me. “I’ve come bearing gifts.”

For a split second, I thought maybe he’d developed some miraculous mind-reading ability overnight and had come to bring us precisely the grimoires and Reaper codices we needed, as though our pile wasn’t monstrous enough. And then I recognized the textbooks.

What in the ever-loving fuck ?

“You brought me homework?” The way I said it, you’d think he just presented me with a severed goat’s head.

“Damn straight I did. Trace’s books are in there too,” he answered, looking mighty proud of himself.

I shot him an offended look. “You have a very twisted definition of what constitutes as a ‘gift’, you know that?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged and then flashed his signature cocky grin, “but we can’t have you missing graduation after everything you went through to get here, can we?”

Graduation . My brain seemed to stall around the word.

The truth was, I hadn’t had a whole lot of time to think about school as of late, let alone the immense milestone that was right around the corner. As much as I had wanted to make school a priority, it just always seemed to get pushed to the backburner when held up against much more pressing matters of life and death.

I mean, sure, I probably wasn’t going to need my diploma since college wasn’t exactly in my future, and on most days, I was okay with that. But it would still be nice to finish high school just the same. To actually graduate and get my diploma with the rest of my friends. Lord knew it was what my father would have wanted.

“Damn, Caleb.” My throat was suddenly thick with emotion. “That’s really thoughtful of you. Thank you.”

“Well, you know me. I’m a thoughtful guy,” he beamed as Tessa flipped through the pile of homework before pulling out a loose sheet of paper from the stack and reading it.

“Instructions for taking finals through distance learning? How did you pull that off?” She looked up at him and arched her brow like an accusation.

“Nothing that a little smooth talking and a falsified doctor’s note couldn’t handle.” He tweaked his own brows back at her and then gave me a pointed look. “In case anyone asks, you and Trace gave each other mono .”

“ Mono?!” My cheeks immediately burned hot. “Seriously, Caleb? What the fuck?”

“Hey, I had to make it believable.” He shrugged.

“Sure you did,” I said and then shook my head at his answering chuckle.

“Well, now that you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful,” said Tessa as if he hadn’t just saved my entire senior year. “We need some fresh protection wards on the house. Ironclad ones. You think you can handle that?” she asked as she set the sheet of paper down and pushed the stack of homework out of the way.

“That happens to be my specialty,” he stated smugly and then crossed his arms, his letterman jacket tightening around his biceps. “Any Supe in particular or are we looking for a blanket ward?”

“It needs to cover everything with the exclusion of Gabriel, Trace, Dominic, and our mother,” answered Tessa.

“That sounds easy enough.”

“ And we need a ward against certain Descendants as well,” she added, eyeing him warily.

“Descendants, huh?” Caleb whistled as he met each of our gazes, his own narrowing with suspicion. “What exactly are you three getting up to anyway?”

“Can you do it?” asked Tessa, ignoring his question.

“Can I do it?” he repeated as he passed his hand through his messy hair and then tugged at the roots. “I don’t know, man. That’s a tall order even for me. Who are we talking about here?”

“Basically, anyone who might be able to drop in on us uninvited.” Tessa grimaced, knowing what a huge ask that was.

“So, mostly Reapers then,” he surmised.

She crossed her arms. “For starters. Is that something you think you can do?”

Caleb took a deep breath and released it, his head moving in a circular motion as though he wasn’t sure whether to confirm or deny the request. “I’ll have to check the books on that one. I might be able to put up some roadblocks, but I don’t know if we can stop them from coming in completely. That would require some serious magical prowess—the kind of spells the Council usually likes to keep locked away in the vault.”

Of course they did. Would they even still be the Council if they weren’t lording over every damn thing from the use of our abilities to what kind of magic we were allowed to have access to? God, I hated those fuckers.

“You can use Jemma if you need to draw on more power,” offered Tessa, jutting her chin out at me. “She’s got enough juice to power half the city.”

“Is that right?” Caleb’s gaze cut to me then, his curious eyes sizing me up as though he’d just spotted a rare commodity.

“She’s exaggerating.”

“Well, I might just have to see for myself,” he murmured, mostly to himself.

Fabulous . Nothing better than being offered up by your sister like some bottomless battery pack.

“How long until it’s done?” asked Tessa, drawing his attention back to her.

“I’ll start working on the wards right away,” he informed and then tapped his hands on the counter. “I’m probably going to need to draw some blood from each of you, though.”

“That’s fine,” Tessa agreed easily. There was no surprise there since she knew that most protection spells required a blood offering of some sort.

“I’ll need Trace’s too,” he added cautiously, his desert-yellow eyes rife with apprehension. “Is he going to be able to…you know, handle that right now?”

Tessa and I exchanged glances. If my prior exchange with him was any indication, it probably wasn’t going to go over very well with him.

“That won’t be a problem,” answered Jaqueline, sounding very sure of herself despite all evidence pointing to the contrary. “Gabriel will procure it for you before you leave.”

“Great.” He drummed his hands against the counter again but didn’t move or say anything else after that. If I didn’t know better, I might have thought he was stalling. And then I realized that was exactly what he was doing.

“You can go see him, you know,” I offered, motioning toward the hallway. “Gabriel’s keeping watch down there so it’s perfectly safe.”

“Eh, come on, Blackburn. Rev or not. You know I’m not scared of that Halfbreed Pretty Boy.” He met my eyes and smiled, but it was small and forced. “Besides, Ben’s down there with him now. I figured I should give them some time to catch up—best friends and all.”

“For sure.” I smiled back at him despite the swollen lump in my throat.

We averted our gazes for a few moments as an awkward silence stretched through the kitchen before he finally worked up the courage to meet my eyes again. And then he asked the question that had probably been plaguing him since the moment he’d heard the news. “Is he alright?”

I tightened the hold I had on myself and answered him honestly. “No, Cale. He’s not.”

“Yeah.” He nodded again, his frown still firmly set in place. “That’s what I figured.”