I grin. “That’s not true and you know it. What will you do with all of that angst once the Brotherhood is gone?”
Something dark passes over his face for a second—and my blood cools.Thisis what he never shows at work. The darkness that lurks beneath his professional façade. It’s why we rarely talk at work.
“I have a few ideas.” He winks and then he saunters out, whistling.
After he closes the door, I look at my phone. A very small part of me wants to lie to Evelyn—wants to tell her the Offering isn’t happening this weekend. Keep her safe in her apartment, with her roommate, with Lily and Salem. The guilt when I think aboutthemis insurmountable. They have no idea. I am supposed to be Evelyn’s protector, and instead, I’m inviting her to come with me. But the more I think about it, the more I realize there’s no other option but to have her there. She would never accept an alternative, and she would see right through my lie. I trust Hayes with my life, and I know that if anything happens to me, he’ll keep her safe until the authorities arrive.
I open the very short text thread between us.
Me: All set for Edinburgh tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at noon.
Three dots appear, then disappear. This happens several more times before her text comes through.
Evelyn: Okay.
I smile.
Me: It’s about a seven-hour drive, so dress accordingly.
Evelyn: That’s fine. I love a good road trip. My last class for the day ends at eleven.
Me: Perfect. I booked us hotel rooms at the Balmoral.
The three dots appear and disappear again. I bite my nails, watching the grey bubble pop up and then go away, over and over.
Evelyn: Thank you.
I catch the double meaning with her response.
Me: Of course.
My thumbs hover over the keypad. There’s so much more I want to say—so much more I could say. Instead, I go with the first thing that pops into my head.
Me: Bring a swimsuit. They have a great pool.
Evelyn: Now you’re talking. :)
Like You
Evelyn Snow
Oxford,Present
I rush home from class the next day, sending Zoey another text—again, I’m left on “read.” That’s okay, though. As long as she knows I’m going out of town. As long as she’s reading it. I don’t blame her for being mad at me. In fact, I admire her for it. I was too cowardly to tell her the truth, and she deserved the truth. Besides Lily and Salem, I would not be in the right headspace right now without her friendship. I add a heart, so she knows I’m thinking of her.
Packing as quickly as I can, I rush around and grab whatever I can fit in my small carryon. A bathing suit, a going out dress, heels, sneakers… I have no idea what’s in store for this weekend. I only vaguely know that Benedict and Hayes are up to something, and that Benedict decided it would be better if I were there.
Even though I’d show up regardless.
I decide to grab my waterproof jacket at the last minute, as the forecast is predicting heavy rain across most of England. I googled the Balmoral, and the hotel is stunning. Historic, central, and very traditionally Scottish. The rooms are all beautiful, decorated in a modern, Edwardian style. I am grateful that Benedict got us two rooms—though I’m pretty sure we won’t need them. Another sort of shiver works its way down into my core, settling between my legs.
Right after I swish mouthwash and pull on my Doc Martens, I see headlights right outside of my flat from the bedroom window, cutting through the dark, overcast mist. It’s dark and gloomy today, so the headlights are necessary, even though it’s midday.
Quickly throwing on my leather jacket, I lock up and head out, stopping midstep when I see Benedict leaning against a silver Porsche Cayenne. His shirt is white, the sleeves rolled up a bit, and he’s wearing worn jeans and lace up boots. The muscles on his crossed arms are accentuated by the way he’s holding himself, and his jaw is hard and locked.
“Is that your car?” I ask, slowly inching closer.
He smiles. “It might be.”
