Page 129 of Eternal Devotion

“It’ll be fine. We’ve thought of everything.” With that confidence, Ensley kissed me a final time, his lips soft and welcoming.

Except, it wasn’t possible to think of everything, and the one scenario we didn’t consider was exactly where it all went wrong.

32

Ensley

Mordecai glanced over his shoulder. Our gazes met one final time before he vanished into the dense trees beyond the path. Although late fall had stripped the branches bare, the skeletal canopy provided enough cover to dampen the effect of the moon. The depthless forest and her inky shadows left me vulnerable and alone.

With the air still, the quiet noises of nature reached my ears. The rustle and scritch of dried leaves on the forest floor. Crickets. The odd ping of a frog, like an elastic band. The gentle slosh of the Sydenham lapping at the shore.

I had put on a brave face for Mordecai, but underneath, I was nervous. After hours of planning and endless discussions, it wasn’t the plan itself that bothered me so much as the waking of the elder. Until Mordecai had described the process, I’d had no idea how dangerous the task was.

At first, I thought he was exaggerating the risks to frighten me, but when Cristofer, whom I’d pegged as less-than-serious most days and honest to a fault, grew somber, my concern escalated.

No human wanted to be near a vampire when he was awoken from a forced state of torpor. Since I wasn’t keen on being eviscerated, I planned to hit the ground running the second I’d dismantled the wards.

I checked the time on my phone when a rumble of distant engines sounded from the road nearby. Right on time. I moved farther down the path toward the boat launch. Mordecai and I had visited the area the previous day, so I knew where I was going, but I aimed to look purposefully lost.

The idea was to intercept the crew and introduce myself as a new transfer. By name-dropping Valerius, I hoped to establish a mountain of credibility. How else would a human know the name of the man at the top?

Mordecai and Cristofer would ensure my story held by tampering with their minds and making them agreeable to whatever I said. Anyone who thought they recognized me from the mansion would, ideally, brush it off as a misremembered face.

The complicated part would be the shift change itself since Mordecai and Cristofer couldn’t manipulate eighteen men at a time. The hope was to make the initial group believe my story, so they would communicate the narrative to the others. Less chance of a dispute. Ideally, we wouldn’t have to deal with everyone at once.

Shortly after the engines cut out, men’s voices arose above the snap and crunch of boots marching along the cedar-lined trail. Before long, a group of nine hunters rounded the bend, materializing from the darkness.

I had imagined they would be rough-looking men of great height, large muscles, and fierce expressions. I feared my mismatched stature would give me away. In reality, the group was a mixed bag. Their ages ranged from midtwenties to early forties. Some were tall and slender. Others were built like tanks. Two were Black, one was Asian, and the rest were white. No women. I wondered who decided on that exclusion?

The instant the men saw me on the trail, they stalled. I expected a flare of anger but was met with confusion and spiked nerves, if the way a few of them glanced around and backed up said anything.

“Who are you?” one of the burlier guys asked. He clutched a wooden spike similar to the one I held in a sweaty palm.

“Name’s Elowen. Are you Lou? I was told to find Lou.” Mordecai had given me a name to drop. He’d overheard it during one of his reconnaissance missions. Pretending I’d been told to meet someone, especially a known hunter, lent credibility to my story.

A different guy stepped forward. Hard eyes, tattoos covering his neck, sausage-thick fingers wrapped around his own wooden spike. “I’m Lou.”

I offered a friendly nod, hoping like hell Mordecai and Cristofer had softened their defenses. “I was told to meet you here. Sorry I’m late. I was supposed to come last night but got held up. Valerius reassigned me. I’ve been working with a group out of Scarborough for the past few years. He said you had trouble brewing and needed extra hands. Guess I’m your new recruit.”

I cursed my runaway mouth. Babbling the entire phony backstory was not the plan. I was supposed to spoon-feed them a few morsels at a time.

The man who called himself Lou looked a question at one of his companions, who shrugged. “No one told me, but Davey said he’s been begging for more numbers.”

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” another guy said. “Y’all didn’t see the birds. It was him. I know it. That vamp is skulking around.”

I glanced between them, as others expressed bland opinions, not seeming bothered by my presence one way or the other. I silently thanked my hidden companions for flattening their hostility and dampening their minds.

“Scarborough, huh?” Lou narrowed his eyes, scanning me from head to toe. He appeared less convinced than the rest but had yet to call me a liar. By the look in his eyes, I feared he was one of the men from the mansion and fighting to place my face.

“Yeah. For the past five years. Do you know Anthony?”

“No.” Lou scrutinized my face, and I tried hard not to squirm.

“How about Toby?” I plucked another random name from the sky.

Lou shook his head.

“Well, I worked under them mostly. Valerius contacted Toby after your bird incident. Crows, right?” I aimed the question at the man who’d brought it up, hoping my knowledge helped seal the deal.