The Wicked Within (Gods & Monsters #3)

The Wicked Within (Gods & Monsters #3) Page 12

THE NEXT DAY AT PRESBY was an odd one. I couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, but the mood was off. The teachers were quieter than usual and seemed distracted. None of the Novem heads—the ones who taught classes—were in attendance. Sebastian was nowhere to be found, again. And he hadn’t been at the house this morning, making me wonder if he’d even come home the night before.

I spent each class growing more and more concerned, biding my time until I could meet with Michel and get back into the library. By the time my training session with Bran rolled around, I was itching to find out what was going on. Only he wasn’t there. There was a note taped to the door, canceling training.

Something was definitely up. Hiking my pack over my shoulder, I climbed to the third-floor administration offices to see if Michel was in his office. But when I cleared the landing, a heavily armed guard stepped into my path. Beyond his wide shoulders, I saw a row of guards barricading the hallway leading to the Novem’s private study, where Anesidora’s Jar was kept.

“You’re not allowed up here.”

“Uh. Yeah, I am.”

“Not anymore, sweetheart.”

Oh, how I objected to that name. I cocked my head. I hadn’t gotten in my training time and was itching for a fight. But I needed more information, so I put on my innocent-girl face. “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone is fine. This area is off-limits.” His irises shifted from a murky blue to a bright blue, letting me know he wasn’t human, letting me know he thought he could kick my ass. I knew even if I made it past him, I wouldn’t get through the other six guys blocking my way.

“Can you at least tell me if Mr. Lamarliere is in his office? I was supposed to turn in a paper and . . . ”

His brow lifted and his mouth dipped down as if to say, Really, kid? You’re going to keep trying?

“Fine,” I bit out.

My mind raced as I jogged down the stairs. The council had to be protecting the library, which meant something had gone wrong. A break-in, maybe. I needed to find Michel, or Bran, or Sebastian. I slowed on the stairs, realizing I hadn’t seen any of the Novem heirs today either. Shit. I hurried to the first floor and out the front door. What the hell had happened? The meeting last night was the only time all the heads and heirs had been together. And none of them had shown up today.

I sprinted past the cathedral and to the Cabildo building, which housed the Novem’s administrative offices, only to find two guards blocking the entrance. I didn’t even bother to ask. The Novem offices were on lockdown too. Damn it.

I ran to Michel’s house and pounded on the main door. After a minute, one of Michel’s servants who knew me finally answered. “Is Michel here? I have to talk to him. It’s really important.”

“No, he’s not here.” The servant stepped back and started to shut the door.

“Wait, what about Sebastian?”

“No, I’m sorry.”

I let out a huff. “My father?” I swear if she said he wasn’t in, I was going to hit something.

She stepped aside and allowed me to enter. Finally. “I know the way.” I darted past her to the back of the house, out onto the large patio, then across the courtyard and garden to the cottage my father was currently calling home. I knocked quickly.

Relief flooded me when he answered the door.

“Dad.” As soon as the word was out I realized—we both realized—it was the first time I’d called him that. It was as if time slowed down just to acknowledge the moment.

My father cleared his throat. His gaze sharpened, assessing. “What’s wrong?”

“Something’s happened with the council. They had a meeting last night. The heirs were invited. None of them—the heirs, the heads—are around. They weren’t in class, the library is on lockdown, and the offices in the Cabildo are off-limits. Have you seen Michel?”

He and Michel weren’t exactly the best of friends, considering my father had been an enemy of the Novem for so long. But Michel had lent him the cottage, and they were on speaking terms.

“I haven’t. But if the library is off-limits, that means someone else is after the Hands.”

“Yeah. Question is, did they get what they were after? The library is guarded like gangbusters.”

I sat down on the bench in the garden and let my pack drop to the grass. “Could be one of Athena’s minions. Or Menai and Melinoe could still be in the city. But that doesn’t explain why the Novem have gone into hiding.” Were they all inside in the Cabildo? “I need to get inside their offices and find out what’s going on.”

My father crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s always the full-on assault.” Wasn’t that just like a die-hard warrior? Suit up and attack head-on. I couldn’t help but smile. “Smile all you want, daughter, but I have knocked down many heavily guarded doors in my time.”

I didn’t doubt that for a second. “As much fun as that sounds, I think we need a little more information first. But thanks for the offer.”

“I’ll talk to the staff and see when Michel was last home. Perhaps one of them can shed some light on where he’s been.”

I stood and picked up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder. “Thanks. I’ll go by the Cabildo one more time and then hit the GD and see if Sebastian is there.” This would have been a great time to have a working house phone at our place. A cell phone would have been even better, but the service outside the French Quarter was pretty much nonexistent.

My hopes were plummeting, and the fact that answers eluded me made me incredibly frustrated. I needed to get into that damn library, if someone hadn’t already. My shot at the Hands might’ve just gone up in smoke, and I didn’t even have the information to confirm or deny that possibility.

“See you later, then,” I said, getting up to go, yet wanting to stay.

My father placed his hands on my shoulders. Then he gathered me close and hugged me.

He smelled nice, warm and safe, and my whole body relaxed. I let my head rest on his chest and closed my eyes, savoring the feeling like it was my last.

Eventually we broke apart. His big hands cupped my face as he gazed down at me. “My heart is yours. The hunter in me is yours. I am your right hand whenever you need me, and your father always. You are not alone.” He kissed my forehead. “Not anymore.”

Tears stung my eyes. He’d just cut right to the heart of it. All those old feelings of hurt and rejection welled within me, all those years alone, uncared for, abused, forgotten . . . they blazed through me like a fiery star that burned away into nothing. I was not alone.

My father leaned back, wiping my tears away. “Chin up now,” he said softly. “Deep breath.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed, swiping a hand across my cheeks.

“I will find out what I can. The Hands are not lost. Wherever they are, wherever they go, we will follow. I will not let another of my family fall to Athena’s curse.”

I nodded.

“Come now. That’s the sorriest nod I’ve ever seen,” he said gently. “Try it again with more conviction.”

My heart gave a painful squeeze, and instead of nodding, I threw my arms around him and held on tight.

I walked the French Quarter, passing old storefronts, antique shops, gift shops, restaurants, and bars. Music drifted through the streets, mingling with the voices of locals and tourists. At one time there would have been the sound of cars, but now only service-related vehicles were permitted in the square since the Novem came to power.

I decided to head back to the square one more time before going home, walking to one of the long benches in front of the cathedral.

As I sat there people passed by, and the artists and musicians and fortune-tellers plied their trades. All the while, I kept my eye on the Cabildo and Presby. I was hoping to catch Michel or Bran leaving. A few people came and went, but no one I recognized.

I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knees and my chin in my hands, replaying the day’s events. Eventually my thoughts shifted to my father. I barely knew him, but already I wanted to love him. Part of me already did. Getting to know him—and my mother through his memories—was something I had thought impossible. A dream.

I wanted to light a candle for my mother. All three of the cathedral’s doors, one main door and two smaller ones on either side, which symbolized the holy trinity, were open to the night air, and I could see the votive candles burning in the vestibule.

I picked up my bag to go inside, but a figure blocked my way.

I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t noticed Gabriel approach. He slid onto the bench next to me. He had an attitude the size of the Grand Canyon, but he was a Novem heir, so I sat, determined to find out where the hell everyone had been and what had happened last night. Gabriel leaned back, stretching out his legs and linking his hands over his stomach as his friends joined him on the bench.

Gabriel was powerful, and I hated to admit it, but he’d been able to glamour me twice now, which really pissed me off. I raised my brow at him, wondering what crap he was going to lay on me this time.

“Do you ever go anywhere without your groupies?” I asked, gesturing to Anne Hawthorne and Roger Mandeville, both next in line to take their places as heads of their family.

“They know a leader when they see one.”

I laughed at that. God, he was arrogant. I couldn’t believe that at one time—for a very short time—I’d found his sun-streaked hair, green eyes, and noble features attractive. Now he turned my stomach. “What do you want, Gabriel?”

He shrugged and stared at the church. “Just wondering if you heard about our little messenger at last night’s Council of Nine meeting.”

Goose bumps rose along my skin. No. But I bet he was about to tell me. He smiled smugly at my silence. “Oh, this is rich. Bastian didn’t tell you.”

I was already stung by Sebastian’s determination to face his problems alone, to leave me out of that part of his life, so Gabriel’s comment hit its mark.