Page 33

T HIRTY -T WO C AMILLE

If there was ever a party I vehemently didn’t want to go to, Xander’s coronation celebration would take the cake.

The open bar has helped my jittery nerves and overall sense of dread, but I’d still rather not be here. Or at least have Harper to distract me. Even more so when I re-read the text she sent me this morning.

I’ll be thinking about you today and sending you all my love. Remember, you are strong, and today is just one day. Don’t let it fuck with your head. You’ve got this. Love you!

She was supposed to come last week, and I understand why she couldn’t get away, I just selfishly wish she was here.

Instead I’m left alone to drink my fourth—no, fifth—vodka soda of the evening. The haze of inebriation is a reprieve from the room full of demons celebrating Xander’s ascension to the throne. He keeps close to his council as they mingle, and the royal guard creepily lingers near the walls like security, all wearing dark gray formal attire.

When I got up this morning, I found the most stunning dark purple dress hanging in the closet and, with no other appropriate clothing option, I put it on. I wish I could hate how perfectly the silk material fits, hugging my curves in all the right places with a stunning open back design. It swishes around me as I walk, just brushing the shiny marble floor. It’s almost too long, but paired with the black heels that were left for me, it works.

I finish my drink, setting my glass on a high-top table as the music changes to a slow ballad. My eyes scan the room as people couple up, and I slink back toward the bar. At least, I try to. Xander comes up beside me, flashing a charming smile that makes my stomach dip despite our last encounter. Traitorous heart .

“Dance with me,” he murmurs in my ear.

I pull away, snatching a flute of champagne from a passing tray. “Leave me alone.”

“This is meant to be a celebration.”

I scowl, though I can’t help but admire his sharp attire. No doubt Blake picked out the all-black suit and tie ensemble. His hair is tousled, and the longer style looks annoyingly good on him. Not to mention the crisp, clean scent of his cologne that threatens to mess with my head. Still, I grumble, “What exactly do you expect me to celebrate, Xander? Please enlighten me.” I down half the glass, and he watches me.

He cocks his head to the side. “I thought you would be pleased I returned victorious.”

“You mean emotionless ,” I shoot back, my cheeks flaring with warmth, mostly from the collection of drinks I’ve had.

“I’m doing what I have to,” he says in a low voice, wetting his lips before he adds, “That dress looks exquisite on you, just as I knew it would.”

I bite my tongue, fighting to hold his gaze as the weight of it bears down on me. “It was this or nothing,” I remark dryly without thinking, then immediately regret it when something dark and suggestive flares in his gaze.

“I suddenly wish I hadn’t left you the dress.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t ignore the heat spreading from my chest to somewhere lower. “I—”

Xander moves before I can put space between us, trapping me in a dance with one hand on my waist, the other grasping mine.

“I hate you,” I mutter under my breath, reluctantly lifting my free hand to rest it on his shoulder as we step back and forth to the music.

“Oh, come on.” He dips his face closer. “You can lie better than that.”

I just shake my head, keeping my jaw clenched shut as I try to ignore the weight of eyes on us.

“I also think you can dance better.”

“You want a better dancing partner? Maybe you should go ask Francesca to be yours.”

Surprise flickers in his gaze. “You met Francesca,” he muses.

“Your betrothed,” I offer, unable to keep the bitterness out of my tone and hating myself for it. “Sure did.”

His brows lift, and he adjusts his hand on my waist. “She hasn’t been that in a long time.”

I exhale a sigh. “It really doesn’t matter.”

“No, but seeing you jealous is rather delightful.”

My eyes narrow. “You’re really just begging for me to step on your toes with these ridiculous heels you left for me to wear, huh?”

He chuckles. “Do you like them? And the dress?”

I give him a look. “I wouldn’t have worn them if I didn’t.”

The look of amusement lingers on his stupidly handsome face. “I’ll take that as a ‘thank you.’?”

My response is a dry, “Do whatever you want, your highness.”

Xander pulls me closer, his lips brushing my ear when he murmurs, “Careful, mo shíorghrá . That is a very dangerous invitation.”

I shiver, and my eyelids flutter almost shut before I can force them open. I look past him to the others dancing around us as the song comes to an end. As soon as it does, I step away from Xander, muttering a quick, “I need some air,” before fleeing the ballroom.

The pressure in my chest doesn’t lessen until I’m a good distance away. I find a bathroom and splash cold water on my face, not caring if it does anything to my makeup at this point. I’m uncomfortably hot, and my pulse is pounding like a jackhammer beneath my flushed skin.

I catch my reflection in the mirror over the vanity and let out a shallow breath as I dry my hands. Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes and focus my breathing, using an exercise I learned years ago to calm the anxiety coating my skin like a dark, sticky film.

A few minutes of breathing exercises bring my pulse to a normal pace, and I leave the bathroom, ready to get the hell out of this celebration .

I head for the front of the historic building, heading toward the coat check to grab my jacket and purse so I can leave. I might not be able to go home, but I don’t— can’t —stay here any longer.

“Leaving so soon?”

I stop in my tracks, curing the accented sound of Blake’s voice. Begrudgingly, I turn around and face him as he approaches. “What do you want, Blake?”

“Xander needs to speak with you.”

I shake my head, exhaling a low breath. “I drank too much champagne and I’m tired. I just want to go to bed.”

His expression is impossible to decipher when he says, “This is important, Camille. You need to hear what he has to say.”

I frown, fighting the urge to cross my arms over my chest and refuse him, but something in his eyes stops me from doing that. Instead, I say, “Fine. Lead the way.”

I follow Blake through the building into what appears to be a private library. It’s all warm tones with dark wood and soft lighting. The faint scent of paper fills the room, reminding me of a bookstore I could roam around for hours. It would typically put me at ease, but this situation really doesn’t leave any space for that.

Xander stands in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the property’s large pond as rain falls from the dark sky. His back is to us, and he turns when the library door closes behind us. We cross the room toward him as his eyes shift from Blake to me.

“What’s going on?” I demand, my pulse ticking faster. Tonight has already been a lot. I’m really not sure how much more I can handle before it triggers a panic attack. Anxiety simmers just below the surface in my chest, threatening shallow breaths and a sharp sense of doom if I can’t rein it in.

“I think you should sit down,” Xander offers in a level, gentle tone.

I wrinkle my nose at that. I’m sick of the back and forth, questioning if he gives a damn or feels nothing at all. “I’m fine standing.”

A muscle feathers along his jaw, and he exhales a short breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment before meeting my gaze. “Your sister is in hell.”

I stare at him.

He stares back at me.

And then—

Everything.

Just.

Stops.

I grit my teeth, shaking my head as tears fill my eyes. “I don’t know what kind of tactic this is. I just…” My voice cracks. “Why are you doing this?” My watery gaze slides to Blake. “Is this some twisted joke?”

The regret in Blake’s eyes as he shakes his head is the only thing that keeps me from fleeing the room. It cements my feet in place—I couldn’t leave if I tried.

“I’m telling you the truth,” Xander says in a low voice, pulling my attention back to him.

My heart pounds against my rib cage as bile rises in my throat. “This…this doesn’t make any sense,” I shout, and when Xander tries to reach for me, I recoil. “ No .”

Blake slips out of the room without a sound, save for the door softly clicking shut behind him.

“I understand it’s confusing. The demon who killed Danielle trapped her in hell while she was in the veil between life and death, and she’s been there since. I saw her while I was there for the final trial.”

I choke on a sob. “My sister is dead . There’s been a mistake. I don’t know what you think you saw—”

“I saw her tattoo, Camille. The one that matches yours. There was something so familiar about her when I saw her in hell, and I couldn’t place why. When I saw her tattoo, it all made sense, and I spoke to her, confirming who she was.”

I press my hands to my face as my head spins, then slide them up to grip my scalp, trying to anchor myself with the pain, but I feel the world slipping away. My ears ring and my vision blurs a little. Xander grasps my shoulders, pulling me back. I blink quickly, trying to focus on him.

“You say you saw her…and then you left her there?” Anger weaves through the confusion in my heart, and the warring emotions make me feel as if I’m losing control of myself. The longer I stand here, the less stable I feel, and the alcohol churning in my stomach isn’t helping.

“I couldn’t bring her back in that state.”

That state?

“Is my sister a demon?” I whisper, the mounting pressure in my ribs begging me to scream. To let out everything I’ve kept trapped inside.

“No,” he says hesitantly before adding, “but her soul is trapped in the underworld.”

Barbed wire lassoes my heart, piercing it with every beat. “Trapped?” I choke out. “Can she be brought back?”

A conflicted look passes over his face, darkening his features. “It’s not that simple.”

“Explain it to me, then.” I can’t mask the desperation in my voice. Danielle is living in hell as we speak. She has been since she died .

Xander wets his lips. “She’s been in hell for five years, but time moves differently down there. To her, it will have felt much longer. And if she returns topside, she won’t be the person you remember. Being in the underworld for so long changes you—and she won’t be able to return here with her soul.”

Something in me snaps, and I grip the front of his shirt until my fists turn white. “I need to get her back. She shouldn’t have—This never should have happened! I need you to take me there.” My vision blurs with hot tears, and I clench my teeth at the utter helplessness clinging to me like a sticky film.

His forehead creases with tension, and he shakes his head adamantly. “You can’t go to hell, Camille. It’s far too dangerous.”

“You’re not going to talk me out of this. My sister needs me. She’s the last person who deserves to be there. If she comes back different, that’s better than her not coming back at all.”

“Is it?” he presses. “Danielle died. Her human soul has been trapped in hell for half a decade in human years. If she returns, there’s no telling who—or what —she’ll be.”

I shake my head, and a tear slips free, rolling down my cheek as I plead, “ Don’t .”

“Your sister could come back a demon without her soul. Could you and your parents handle that? Could she?”

Pressure pours into my chest, and I clamp my jaw shut to keep from screaming. I can’t make sense of this. My sister—a demon. Could I handle that? And what about our parents? How would they, as heads of the demon hunting organization, live with having a demon for a daughter? The thought of them fighting her being brought back under those circumstances is a punch to the gut. I can’t say with any certainty how they’d react, but the idea of allowing her to stay in hell after all these years now that I know where she is…

“I can’t just leave her there,” I say in a low, uneven voice. “Even if I can’t bring her back here, there has to be something we can do to free her from hell.”

His eyes scan my face, but I can’t discern his expression as he says, “I want to tell you there is, but I truly don’t know.”

“We have to try,” I insist firmly, though my voice still shakes. “I have to go after her.”

“A human can’t go to hell and return without consequences.”

My response is immediate. “I don’t care. Danielle has already lost enough. Her life, her soul —”

“And what of your soul?” he demands, swallowing hard, and I’m taken aback by the sudden emotion in his eyes. My heart beats like the wings of a hummingbird as I stare at him, and he stares back at me. He lowers his voice, as if he’s concerned about being overheard. “I can’t say what will happen down there, but there’s a chance—”

“If sacrificing my soul is what I have to do to get my sister back, then so be it.”

“No.” He shakes his head again, blinking hard. “I can’t let you do this. I won’t.”

I tug him closer as I’m gripped with such a profound fear my knees shake. “So you’re the only one allowed to sacrifice their soul to save someone they love?”

His expression doesn’t change. “This is different.”

“Why?” I demand.

“Because you weren’t dead. I killed Lucia to prevent you from dying.” He lowers his voice once more. “Your sister is already dead, Camille.”

I swallow hard, shaking my head adamantly. “If you ever want there to be a chance for us, you’ll help me.” My jaw clenches, and I wait for the demon before me to cackle at my weak attempt to sway him.

Except, he doesn’t. Xander freezes, eyes sharp. “Are you saying there is a chance?”

My stomach dips, my brows scrunching together as more tears gather in my eyes. Everything else in my life ceases to exist in this moment. My parents, being a failure of a hunter, the awkwardness with Noah…Nothing matters but my sister, and Xander is the only one who can help me.

He grips me tighter. “ Is there a chance? ”

“Yes,” I breathe, my voice cracking. I swallow. “So, please . Help me get my sister back.”

He holds my gaze for a moment that seems to stretch on for an eternity. Finally, he speaks. It’s a single word that holds so much pain it fills my veins with ice. “Okay.”

Xander pulls me in without hesitation, burying his fingers in my hair as he holds me against his chest, and clinging to him is the only thing that keeps me from shattering.