I stop. I can’t even say the words. My father will be fine, I tell myself, repeating the words like my own personal mantra. My father will be fine. But still, Declan’s words make a strange kind of sense. “What better chance to get us to lay off them than to distract me with my father’s illness? The only problem is that we’re not the ones killing Council members.”
“We know that, but it’s pretty obvious at this point that they don’t.” He strokes a comforting hand over my hair. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be the whole Council. It can be one or two members. The same one or two members who are responsible for the others’ deaths. For Shelby. What do you think all that blood collection was for?”
“Wait a minute.” My mind is boggling. “You think that the same person killing Councilors is also responsible for my father’s illness? And that that person is also a Council member?”
“Think about it. What better time to make a play for the brass ring?”
“But I thought you said my father’s illness was to distract us.”
“No, that’s what you said.”
“I don’t understand. There are too many variables here to keep track of. The ACW. My father. Shelby. I just don’t get how all of these can be part of some master plot. Or, more importantly, why.”
He glances at me, just a quick look out of the corner of his eye that is fraught with impatience. “Are you really that naïve?”
My spine stiffens. “It’s not naïve to spend some time thinking things through instead of jumping to conclusions.”
“I’ve been doing nothing but thinking things through since the moment I realized the ACW was after you, so don’t lecture me in that prissy tone, Xandra.”
It’s the sharpest tone he’s ever used with me. Not to mention, it’s completely offensive. “I’m not prissy.”
He snorts. “Of course not.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that you need to start seeing the world how it is instead of how you want it to be.” He starts ticking things off on his fingers. “The ACW soulbound us the day you were born. They did so because they wanted to one, limit our magic and two, give me a reason to kill you. When that didn’t work, they hired the job out to a sociopath of epic proportions, who not only tortured and killed four unsuspecting women, he nearly did the same to you—after you had already lived through the torment of his attacks on the other victims. And then they tried to frame me for the murders. What in the name of the goddess makes you think that they wouldn’t try to kill your father if it was in their best interests?”
“I totally believe they would. I’m just not sure what those best interests are.”
“Think about it, Xandra. Your parents are extremely influential in who gets appointed to the Council. If someone takes out your dad, your mom will be crippled with grief. She won’t be in any position to worry about Council appointees. Or, goddess forbid, they kill her, too, and leave your brother—a completely untried king—in charge of the Ipswitch throne. You kill off a few ACW members, get the ear of the grief-stricken queen or shell-shocked new king, and it isn’t that hard to control who gets the new seats. And if you control that . . .”
With those last words, everything slides into place. Court espionage isn’t my thing, but once someone draws me a map, it’s hard not to figure out which direction things are going. “If you control that,” I continue where Declan left off, “then you control the way the laws are made and interpreted by the Council. You control everything.”
He nods. “Exactly.”
“Jesus. That’s diabolical.”
“Maybe. But it’s also brilliant.”
I stare at him, shocked. “You sound like you approve.”
“Of course I don’t approve. But if that’s what they’re going for, then the plan is genius.”
I still don’t like the appreciation I hear in his voice. Oh, I know he’s not wishing ill on my parents or anything like that, but there’s that dark part of him again. Able to think like a monster. Able, maybe, even to admire that monster. It’s more than a little disturbing.
Still, I mull his words over for long seconds, trying my best to poke holes in his theory. But in a terrible, awful way, it makes perfect sense. Especially the bloodletting. If one of the less powerful Council members is behind this, there’s a lot of dark magic that can be done with the blood of people as powerful as Alride and Mei. Dark magic that could kill my father, maybe even kill my mother if she isn’t prepared for it.
I’m still not sure where Shelby’s blood fits in, but as Declan’s ideas rattle around in my head—and click—I know that there must be a way. There must be something she could give that no one else could. I just don’t know what that is yet.
“I need to call my mother. And Donovan.”
“They already know.”
I gape at him. “How is that even possible?”
“I talked to Donovan about my theory when he called this morning, while you were in the bathroom packing your toiletries He was already halfway there himself, so I guarantee he’s already talked it over with your mother.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me about it?” My voice is about three octaves higher than usual, but I can’t help it. I am damn sick of Declan only sharing what he thinks I need to know. “You talk to my brother, whom you don’t even like, but you don’t tell me?”
“I’m telling you about it now, aren’t I?”
It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to haul off and punch him. Then, because I’m not sure even that’s enough, I say, “Stop the car.”
“What?” He looks at me like I’m insane.
“Stop the fucking car.”
When he still doesn’t so much as slow down, I yell, “I swear to the goddess, stop the damn car or it’s over between us.”
“I don’t like threats,” he tells me, even as he finally does what I asked and pulls the car over to the side of the road. “You want to fight, we’ll fight. You want to yell at me for trying to protect you, you go right ahead. But you don’t get to just issue an ultimatum in the middle of an argument. You don’t get to threaten to walk away from me simply because you don’t like something that I do.”
“Why not? Because you say so?”
“Because that’s not how relationships work!” He’s in my face now, his eyes so dark and furious that my stomach jumps uneasily. Oh, I know Declan would never hurt me, but I’ve never seen him this pissed off. Then again, I’ve never been this pissed off, either.
“So, now you’re an expert on relationships?” I ask sarcastically. “That’s a laugh.”
“Don’t push me, Xandra.”
“No, Declan, don’t you push me.”
I’m gearing up for a huge argument, but he stops me with a hand on my knee. If he’d tried to force my hand, to make me do what he wanted, I probably would have gone for his eyes. I’m that angry. But the gentle pressure of his palm on my leg has the anger draining out of me and tears springing to my eyes. Suddenly, I feel foolish. And petty. Two things I really hate feeling, but I know I deserve to right now.
I know Declan’s not very good at relationships, know he’s not very good at sharing information because he’s never had anyone to share with before. Just yesterday, I’d decided that I was going to hang in, that I wasn’t going to give him up no matter what we had to work through. And here I am, threatening to run away the first time he really pisses me off. I need to apologize.
I start to do just that, but Declan only smiles as he pulls back onto the highway, crisis averted. Then he asks, “So is that our first real fight as a couple?”