Chapter 306. Summonings III

Chapter 306: 306. Summonings III

Maisie

The sound of thudding feet echoed from the staircases outside my door and I cursed under my breath, my head snapping toward the hallway when I felt Quinlan’s mark itch slightly on my neck.

Panic cramped my stomach when I picked up on his scent and his voice, caught in a full-blown argument with Jericho.

No no no no. Not now!

I scrambled up and ran like hell to the bathroom, grabbing a few paper towels to get the blood off the floor. Only to smear it all over even worse when I heard their voice drawing closer.

"--you were supposed to wait till I got here--"

"--I told you, she kicked me out--"

"--not my fault your charms are wearing off--"

"--wearing off? Did you know she asked for my shirt before I left?" Quinlan’s voice grew insufferably smug. "She likes the way I smell so much, she’s going to use it as her pillowcase. I don’t see how you can beat that--"

"--she only asked for your stinking shirt because you were available--"

"--aww, Jer bear, are we jealous?"

"Don’t fucking call me that--"

"Jerrrr bearrrrrr...." Kissy-kissy noises followed, and I jumped as something heavy slammed into a wall with a hollow CRACK, followed by Quinlan groan of genuine pain. "Fucker."

The doorknob twisted and held firm. "May?" Quinlan called out. "We felt your panic--" There was a sharp inhale. "Is that blood?"

"Wait!" I yelled, wiping furiously at the floors, knowing I had all of one second before the door got ripped off its hinges. "It’s, uh, my period came early! I’m fine!"

If they saw this, the circle, the blood, the carving into the floor, it’d be very hard to explain why my room looked like I was running a demon-worshipping cult in my dorm room.

And if I told them I’d just had a terrifying visitation from an insane, half-rotted, half-burned demon who may or may not be Soren’s dead mother? They wouldn’t even bother with therapy anymore. They’d ship me straight to an asylum and throw away the key.

The door knob rattled again. Jericho’s low growl lifted the hair on my skin. "Your last cycle finished four days ago. You were sick for the most of it. Open the damned door, Maisie, or I’ll break this down, right now."

The fact that he tracked my cycle that closely was a whole separate issue, but I stammered, "I-I’m naked! I just got out of the shower!"

There was a brief pause on the other side of the wood.

"Really?" Jericho and Quinlan said in unison.

The sudden, intense shift in their voices from aggression to hunger was so ridiculous, I rolled my eyes.

Men.

"Yes! So don’t come in--"

I scrambled to my feet to run to the bathroom for paper towels, because the blood didn’t seem to be going anywhere, but my head swam, my vision blurring.

Goddess, how much blood has I lost tonight? A gallon?

My knees buckled and my foot slipped on a wet puddle. My legs went out from under me and I went down hard with a loud yelp, my hip smacking the floorboards with an echoing thud.

The door came off its hinges a second later.

Jericho charged in first, looking ready to murder someone, with Quinlan right on his heels. But both of them came to a halt, taking in the full scene.

Me, sprawled awkwardly on the floor, blood lining my skin and arms. The stained tissues. The lingering stench of rot. The inner circle I hadn’t been able to get rid off. And the mark carved into the floor between my knees.

I sat up slowly, my face burning, and looked up at the two Lycans staring at me, speechless.

I let out a tiny, nervous laugh. "I... can explain?"

***

The silence was killing me.

I sat by the edge of the bed one hour later, freshly out of the shower. My fingers fiddled nervously with the hem of my sleeping shorts hidden under Quinlan’s oversized shirt. Jericho had gone full mother-hen mode, summoning a guard to bring a first-aid kit for a palm wound that had already healed, so my hand was wrapped up like a mitten.

I couldn’t read their expressions, and trust me, I was trying. Had to know if I had to run or jump out the damned window if they had collectively decided the asylum was the best fit for me.

"I think I need to sit down," Quinlan said, grabbing the chair from the dressing table.

Jericho leaned against the wall, brooding silently while the guard outside finished screwing my door back onto its hinges.

"The dreams began on the Ridge," Jericho said finally. When I nodded slowly, bracing for him to call me crazy, he just kept going. "The mountain you saw in your visions... that’s the actual Ridge. That’s where Elara Thorne opened the first rift."

I nodded again.

"There is no one by that name in any history book," Jericho said, his jaw tight. "When we found your notes, Soren sought information from the scholars and the priestesses who have watched over our history through generations. She doesn’t exist."

Quinlan rested his his hands on the back of the chair. "Wouldn’t be the first time the crown scraped names from the ledgers for their own benefit."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Exiles. Traitors. Heretics," Quinlan shrugged. "If an entire family line commits a grave crime against the crown, the threat of being stripped of their titles and place in our world is not merely a joke, Maisie. They wipe out everything that proved they ever existed. Give it two generations, and nobody even knows they were alive. It’s common practice. Erase the bloodline, rewrite the story. It’s kept Lycans in line for many years, the ruthlessness of it."

A chill ran down my spine.

"But this is different," Jericho muttered, stepping closer. "Usually, the old scribes kept secret copies. They passed the truth down to their apprentices in the dark so we wouldn’t forget where we came from. It was a running joke between them, testing the boundaries of what they could and couldn’t do. But this?"

He shook his head. "This is a total erasure. Someone rewrote the foundational history of our entire species. Generations have lived and died on a lie. Hell, my mother was a royal historian, and I’d bet my life she had no idea Elara Thorne ever existed."

"If they went that far," Quinlan said. "It doesn’t make sense that they left the library right underneath the school. Anyone could have walked in there and found it. You think Atlas knows the library exists?"

Jericho’s frown only deepened. "It’s hard to tell with that woman. My best guess would be yes."

I shook my head. "Even if she did, they wouldn’t be able to understand what they found. All of the books are written in that language. What good are books if you can’t read them?"

"But you can," Jericho said. "Have you considered the possibility of your ability to read them being the same reason you can see Elara in your dreams? Her memories?"

"I... I don’t know. I guess I just thought it was one of my abilities as a keeper of that stone," I muttered. "And I wouldn’t say they’re her memories. I’ve only ever dreamt of that moment by the rift. It felt like a... warning."

And judging by how terribly things went, I did need the warning.

"Margaret knew all about this," Quinlan said. "Enough to structure a plan around it." His jaw clenched at the mention of the plan, the same way it did when I told him of how long she had been making these insane plans. And just how much of that plan birthing me was. "Why would she want to open the rift if all that is beyond it is destruction?"

I sucked in my bottom lip. "I haven’t figured out that part yet, but knowing her, there’s every possibility she tries to get it open again by the next Samhain."

"That’s three months from now," Jericho noted, and the corners of his eyes softened, a heaviness entering it. "And that is why you won’t consummate the bond. You’d much prefer to die alone than take us all with you. That’s why..." He exhaled softly, coming to crouch at my feet, taking my hands in his. "That’s why you were falling apart all those months ago."

My fingers curled and I looked away as my eyes stung.

"Maisie," Quinlan whispered softly. "This doesn’t have to be your burden alone to bear again--"

"There were six of them," I cut in, feeling the shadow of Elara’s pain and despair in my chest. "Altogether, there were seven. And it still wasn’t enough. I won’t take that risk. Don’t ask me to. You’ve all been keeping me safe before I ever even knew you existed. This is how I keep you safe."

"That is not your responsibility," Jericho half-growled.

"It isn’t?" I asked, tears burning my eyes. "You think I’ll be able to live if you all died for me? It’s my worst, fucking nightmare, and I won’t--" I choked on a sob, drawing in a long breath. "I can’t do this until I know for sure that I won’t get you all killed with me."