beginning. Knowing what I knew now, I had no doubt.
Talk turned to the troubles of late, barely skirting the chief taboo of the evening: Morgan. Bringing up the name of the man the guest of honor was hiding from would not only be ill-mannered, it would lead to the questions the Division was trying to keep from answering directly. So far, they’d managed to inform Brianna of Morgan’s desire for her, his power to sway, and the danger to the rest of us. What they’d been afraid to disclose, however, was the prophecy, and how central she was to their plan.
While Eric and Seth discussed the messes being made by Council, the commonbloods who were being used and then left without cover stories or explanations of any kind, I considered again what Emily’s life must have been like, knowing her sister was the chosen and being held responsible for her safekeeping.
A small white plate of custard drizzled with chocolate and caramel pulled me from my thoughts and I glanced down the table at Emily, who finally looked like she’d found something she could eat. She lifted the tiny dessert fork, but stopped short at the turn of conversation.
“Four of them, beaten near death and dumped roadside with no explanation,” Seth complained.
She stared across the table at him, her hand dropping slowly to return the utensil.
Eric sat beside Seth, joining in, “We’re spending our resources on cleaning up after them. They aren’t even adhering to the oldest codes. If we miss something, it will be on the news. The commonbloods…”
Emily’s hands went into her lap as they continued. She looked a bit sick.
“… like we have the time and resources to waste on their used commonbloods—”
It was about the sixth time in so many minutes they’d used the label, and Seth’s words were cut short as Emily, who was suddenly standing, slammed her fist on the table. “They aren’t commonbloods , they’re people,” she said. “Dead. People.”
The room fell still. Emily’s stare was focused directly on Eric and Seth, so she was unaware that the rest of us could only watch her, could only look on in shock as Brianna’s quiet sister transformed from a pretty young blonde into a barely restrained fury. Her eyes were hard, expression not just livid, but outraged, and she was suddenly older. It was as if she’d seen more than any of us in her years, and yet remained shocked at our manners.
Seth had the decency to look shamed at having offended a guest, and Eric inclined his head slightly in apology. The silence became awkward, heavier and heavier, and, eventually, Emily returned to her seat.
But dinner just wasn’t the same after that.
Chapter Fifteen
Sustenance
Dessert sat uneaten on most of our plates, and everyone politely refused coffee. No one was brave enough to attempt conversation again, but had they tried, the look on Brendan’s face would have shut them down.
When Brianna finally spoke up, letting on that she was exhausted from the day’s excitement, the rest of the table latched on to the pretext and excused themselves for the night.
I saw Brendan whisper something to Brianna, but she merely stared at him for a moment, jaw tight, before leading Emily from the room. When they disappeared through the doorway, I glanced back to Brendan, only to find him giving me a similar look to the one he’d just received.
“What?” I said around a mouthful of bread.
He shook his head and turned for the door Eric and Seth had exited minutes before. I grabbed a few more rolls and wrapped them in a napkin, ignoring the sidelong glances the kitchen staff gave me as they waited to clear the table. I tied the top of the napkin in a quick knot, which, perversely, made me want to whistle the Andy Griffith Show theme song for my audience. I hastily made my way from the dining room, smiling as I skipped up the steps two at a time, and nearly ran into Logan around the corner at the top of the stairs.
He raised his
Talk turned to the troubles of late, barely skirting the chief taboo of the evening: Morgan. Bringing up the name of the man the guest of honor was hiding from would not only be ill-mannered, it would lead to the questions the Division was trying to keep from answering directly. So far, they’d managed to inform Brianna of Morgan’s desire for her, his power to sway, and the danger to the rest of us. What they’d been afraid to disclose, however, was the prophecy, and how central she was to their plan.
While Eric and Seth discussed the messes being made by Council, the commonbloods who were being used and then left without cover stories or explanations of any kind, I considered again what Emily’s life must have been like, knowing her sister was the chosen and being held responsible for her safekeeping.
A small white plate of custard drizzled with chocolate and caramel pulled me from my thoughts and I glanced down the table at Emily, who finally looked like she’d found something she could eat. She lifted the tiny dessert fork, but stopped short at the turn of conversation.
“Four of them, beaten near death and dumped roadside with no explanation,” Seth complained.
She stared across the table at him, her hand dropping slowly to return the utensil.
Eric sat beside Seth, joining in, “We’re spending our resources on cleaning up after them. They aren’t even adhering to the oldest codes. If we miss something, it will be on the news. The commonbloods…”
Emily’s hands went into her lap as they continued. She looked a bit sick.
“… like we have the time and resources to waste on their used commonbloods—”
It was about the sixth time in so many minutes they’d used the label, and Seth’s words were cut short as Emily, who was suddenly standing, slammed her fist on the table. “They aren’t commonbloods , they’re people,” she said. “Dead. People.”
The room fell still. Emily’s stare was focused directly on Eric and Seth, so she was unaware that the rest of us could only watch her, could only look on in shock as Brianna’s quiet sister transformed from a pretty young blonde into a barely restrained fury. Her eyes were hard, expression not just livid, but outraged, and she was suddenly older. It was as if she’d seen more than any of us in her years, and yet remained shocked at our manners.
Seth had the decency to look shamed at having offended a guest, and Eric inclined his head slightly in apology. The silence became awkward, heavier and heavier, and, eventually, Emily returned to her seat.
But dinner just wasn’t the same after that.
Chapter Fifteen
Sustenance
Dessert sat uneaten on most of our plates, and everyone politely refused coffee. No one was brave enough to attempt conversation again, but had they tried, the look on Brendan’s face would have shut them down.
When Brianna finally spoke up, letting on that she was exhausted from the day’s excitement, the rest of the table latched on to the pretext and excused themselves for the night.
I saw Brendan whisper something to Brianna, but she merely stared at him for a moment, jaw tight, before leading Emily from the room. When they disappeared through the doorway, I glanced back to Brendan, only to find him giving me a similar look to the one he’d just received.
“What?” I said around a mouthful of bread.
He shook his head and turned for the door Eric and Seth had exited minutes before. I grabbed a few more rolls and wrapped them in a napkin, ignoring the sidelong glances the kitchen staff gave me as they waited to clear the table. I tied the top of the napkin in a quick knot, which, perversely, made me want to whistle the Andy Griffith Show theme song for my audience. I hastily made my way from the dining room, smiling as I skipped up the steps two at a time, and nearly ran into Logan around the corner at the top of the stairs.
He raised his
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