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Gripping the handle, Soren swung the door open.
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LECTURE NOTES FROM IMMORTAL GENETICS:
All witches are born with magic in their veins. It remains colorless and undifferentiated until their Summoning Day—when it bursts to life.
Blue-flecked, Elemental blood seeped out of the carriage.
Wayland, the eldest McPorter brother, was crouched in a defensive position, then relaxed at the sight of Soren.Behind him were lifeless bodies in scarlet uniform, which meant all the soldiers were now dead.
Thessa withdrew her magic.
“Look who finally showed up,” Wayland said.
Soren rolled his eyes at Wayland. “I’d compliment your efficiency, but we’d risk your head getting larger.”
Wayland flared his nostrils. “Did they kill her?”
Sorrow filled Soren’s expression, telling them without words. There were shades of pain behind his dark eyes, layersThessa could not begin to understand, but the thought of losing everything … she shook her head.
Francis audibly wept, wrenching her heart, but Soren’s face shifted—turned cold—as he began relaying orders like a rehearsed script. Without a question, the McPorters began working, unhinging the two horses from the carriage.
Soren dragged the dead driver and slung him inside the cabin with the dead soldiers. Wayland slammed the door shut, then the five of them hauled the carriage off the path.
Thessa had the honor of sifting dirt. She did her best to fluff up the grass too, then headed toward the males. A moment later, Wayland and his father set the carriage ablaze. The youngest of the McPorter brothers, Neremiah and Brinkley, were each side hugging their father with tears streaming down their innocent faces.
She shivered at the thought of their mother’s violent death. Her stomach turned with all the loss and heartache. Excusing herself, she ran to a nearby tree and retched.
There wasn’t much to expel, but she heaved until her body was satisfied. Unscrewing the necklace she never took off, Thessa breathed and pressed her other hand to her heart—like Soren had taught her.
As the carriage burned and the males mourned, she felt ashamed to be reminded of Kellan. Emiel’s family dynamic was shifting her entire perspective. Not in a hundred years would she believe an Elemental would wed and have children with a demon. If there was a plane of existence where they could explore a future together, she wondered if she would.
Would he?
She looked up to see Soren gesturing her over. After cleaning herself up, she joined them around the fire. There was a late and awkward introduction when Francis asked Soren who she was.
A simple, “Thessa,” was all he said.
She waved.
Despite their grief, all the Mcporters smiled politely at her—except for Wayland.
Soren continued, “I know this is a difficult time Francis, but you must go back. Burn the remaining carriage on your property, and all that remains. Everything. Pack only what’s needed and leave. Let them think we're all dead. And do me a favor, warn the others.”
Francis nodded solemnly.
“We’ll rebuild, like we always have.” Soren moved his gaze to the eldest brother, a speck taller than his father. “Wayland, we’ll need you to come with us, for Emiel.”
He was bathing his dagger in his own finger-flames as he said, “Yes, sir. Which horse am I taking?” There wasn’t a whisper of sorrow in his tone, instead, his eyes burned with revenge.
Soren swept his gaze toward the four horses and paused before turning back. “Miah and Brink, you’ll ride together on one of the carriage horses, and Francis, you’ll take the other. Wayland, I’m sorry, that means you’re riding Hades.”
“Excuse me?” Thessa objected. “Hades ismine.”
“Hades can’t hold two riders,” Soren countered. “Ares might be larger, but Wayland and I together would break his back. Besides, I'm not riding with Wayland.”
“And where does that leave me?