"What?" I practically whisper, my hands braced on the floor behind me as if ready to pounce at a moment's notice. Tommy leans back as if his own words hit like a punch, his brows furrowed as his eyes dart back and forth between mine. "Say it again,"

    "Maribel. Your mother," Hearing her name on his lips feels foreign, like an itch I've needed to scratch since I grew fingers, "She's in charge,"

    "How can you tell me that? How can you tell me anything?" I ask. His head shakes slightly, almost unnoticeable. Neither of us know the answer. It shouldn't be possible.

    I push myself to a stand, hearing Tommy stand behind me as I unlock the door and shove it open so hard the handle hits the wall beside it. I run downstairs, the thump of Tommy's footsteps sounds behind me as I run into the lounge room. Yasmin and Alex sit on the couch, Yasmin's feet up beside Alex's lap as she lounges comfortably.

    "Here we go again. What's the fight about this time, Mickey Mouse?" Yasmin grins from the couch, her expression flattening when she takes in my wild eyes. She sits up straight, Alex doing the same from beside her. I run around to the front of the couch, taking a seat on the coffee table and latching onto Yasmin's biceps.

    "Tell me something, anything. Something about what's been going on," I plead, my fingers digging into her bicep, but she doesn't so much as flinch.

    "What are you talking about? You know I can't," She laughs like I'm crazy, reading to snatch her arm from my grasp.

    "Just try!" I snap, surely leaving bruises on her by now. "Tell me... tell me about the night Alex turned,"

    My eyes flick to him as if on instinct, the night that changed our friendship forever, damaged us in ways we haven't repaired.

    "Yaz, come on," Tommy instructs, moving to stand behind me with his arms across his chest.

    I turn back to Yasmin, a flicker of darkness blankets her eyes, as if remembering steals the light from the room. She replaces it almost as quickly as she loses it, rolling her eyes, "Alex was drunk, he stumbled into a room in my house. He ran to hide in the closet because he heard all of us coming into the room-"

    "Who's us?" I dig for more, needing to hear that name again.

    "Me, Zeke, Lance, Maribel and a couple of her bodyguards-" Yasmin cuts off her words in a similar fashion, her spine straightening and her legs dropping off of the couch. My hands leave her arms, her eyes wide as they focus on me, "Maribel. Maribel Reid, your mother-,"

    "Okay, I get it," I huff, the name causing a bitterness to coat my taste buds.

    Yasmin opens her mouth, strangled noises escaping her as she looks over my head and at Tommy, "How the fuck-"

    "I don't know," Tommy's voice is soft, an edge of fear there.

    "What else happened?" I question, my heart clenching at the information in front of me. Everything, an answer to every question right here. Yasmin looks at me, her brows furrowed as if she's confused, "The night Alex turned, what happened?"

    Yasmin turns to Alex, silence falling between them as if she's asking permission. Alex doesn't remember, I know that. I wonder if she ever told him or if she was asking permission to tell him for the first time. He reaches for her hand on the couch, nodding ever so slightly.

    "Alex was hiding in the wardrobe when we came in," She begins, turning her head to me and squeezing his hand, "We didn't realise he was in there. We started talking about negotiations, and Lance and Maribel were fighting over power as usual. Alex stumbled out of the wardrobe. He was so drunk he thought Maribel was... he thought she was you,"

    I blink, leaning back as if her words take physical form and push me. My eyes shift to Alex, only to find him already looking at me. The vision becomes slightly blurry from tears. I know what comes next, deep down I do. My face haunts his dreams just as much as his does mine.

    "He called your name, and it made Maribel stand on edge. Then he got closer and thought she was Alis instead. That was all she needed to hear--she knew the connection. She... she took a letter opener from the desk and slashed him across the stomach. She didn't want him remembering anything and telling you, so she... tried to kill him. She and the others left the room laughing. I stayed behind," Her voice comes out like velvet, a way I haven't heard her before. Each syllable leaves an impression on her tongue from the touch. Her eyes seem glazed as if she is being transported back to that room, back to that night. The wardrobe door was her version of floral walls. "I knew I should have minded my business, Maribel would kill me if she ever found out I went behind her back like that, but... I just couldn't watch him suffer and die. So, right before he died, I made him drink my blood,"

    My hand moves to my stomach as if feeling my mother's wrath on my body instead of Alex's. The woman in the story feels different to the one who raised me, the two figures formed by different shapes and unable to fit into the same box.

    My brows furrow in pain as I look at Alex, my guilt eating at me from under my hand. He is what he is because of me, because of my face and his connection to me. And I let it cloud our friendship, one that has stretched past a decade.

    I shake my head slowly, thousands of words wanting to rush out, and each blocking the path. He leans forward slightly, my body almost falling as I meet him halfway and wrap my arms tightly around his neck, my forehead on his shoulder. I take in deep breaths, not wanting to cry to him over his own trauma.

    "I'm... I'm so-"

    "I know, Mic," He tells me, his arms squeezing me as if to say it's okay. He knows how I struggle with the words, how they eat me up and turn me around inside.

    I let him go, sitting up straight and holding his hand tightly. He needs to hear the words, to see that despite my own comfort and struggle, I'm pushing through. So, I practically whisper it, low enough for him to hear, "I'm sorry, Alex. For everything,"

    "How? How can we tell her anything," Yasmin brings the conversation back to the bigger topic.

    I drop Alex's hand, turning over my shoulder to look up at Tommy.

    He shrugs, unable to answer, "I don't know why Maribel does anything. We don't really know what her endgame is. I mean, Lance might know, but Maribel doesn't tell him shit, he's just her errand boy,"

    "Lance is an errand boy?" I grin up at him, the thought of Lance fetching coffees and faxing paperwork. I turn back to the front, dropping my grin as I take in the serious expression around me, "Not the point,"

    "I could ask him, but he's not going to tell me anything. He hasn't trusted me since-" He cuts his words off as if it's muscle memory in my presence, information getting lost between the cracks of his teeth. I turn back to him, spying his eyes already trained on me. He moves around me, taking a seat beside me on the coffee table, "Since he started to smell Michaela on me. Tried to teach me a lesson that one time,"

    His words take me back to his first time here, the way he burst through the door and the spiral imprint on his ribs from his Fathers ring. That beating was because of me, because of my scent. A lot of things are because of me.

    I lower my head, looking down at my knees and letting my hair fan over my face for a shred of privacy. Tommy's hand secretly sets itself on top of my hand, his thumb rubbing over my knuckles.

    "Does anyone else have this horrible feeling? I whisper so lowly that the syllables break as they leave my mouth. "Like, the compulsion doesn't matter anymore because it's too late to change anything?"

    Tommy and Yasmin turn to each other, their eyes locking as if sharing a bright lightbulb. Yasmin turns to a calendar on the wall, a certain date with red marks all over it landing on tomorrow.

    "Clensing night is tomorrow. All the hunters are going to be too distracted with the fledglings' first feedings," Yasmin points out. She turns to me quickly, seeming annoyed that she has to give me the spark notes on conversations I can finally be a part of, "That's why there's been an influx of fledglings. To keep the Hunters distracted so Maribel can continue on uninterrupted,"

    "What about the fledglings you guys made?" I ask, Alex's hand moving to the ghost of a pink mark on his hand, "Why did you turn them?"

    "To help the hunters," Tommy informs, "We turned them and compelled them to level the playing field. We were compelled to turn them no matter what, so we found a loophole,"

    "I gotta tell Constance," I declare, pushing to my feet and running my hands through my hair as I turn to leave. The hunters that are left without Father Odin won't be prepared, their numbers aren't big enough.

    Clensing night has never been a big deal in smaller towns like this. There usually isn't enough food.

    "Fuck, where the fuck is Alis?" I question no one in particular, my feet pulling to a stop. I turn back around to the group, my brows furrowing as I look around. I haven't seen her since I left her at the lookout. That was hours ago, "Alis?"

    They all stand up immediately, all of us in place as if scared to move.

    "Alis!" I shout despite knowing deep down she's not here.

    A chill overcomes me, my eyes shifting around the room and the excess space the house has lacked since everyone took up camp here.

    "Leila!" I shout, moving first and breaking the stillness. Everyone rushes off to a different corner of the room, shouts of names and doors being slammed

    My heart pounds to the sound of my footsteps on the stairs, my legs powering me across the house until I'm shoving Leila's bedroom door open. Empty, her bed unmade and her window open to allow a breeze. I can still smell the hints of her perfume, the scent of her shampoo.

    "Leila!" I scream, my throat breaking as I turn and rush out of the room. I rush to the kitchen, my shaky hands fumbling for my phone in my pocket.

    Tommy joins me in the kitchen, his eyes wide as they set on me.

    I press the phone to my ear, my free hand moving to my mouth as I place my thumbnail between my teeth. Tommy stands in front of me, my forehead automatically resting on on chest as if my body is exhausted. I clench my eyes shut, my stomach twisting on itself.

    "Levi's not here either," He informs, his hands bracing themselves on my arms to pull me back and look down at me, "Maybe they're just out-"

    His words cut off as vibrating diverts our eyes to the kitchen table. The phone screen glows with my name, a photo of me and Leila illuminating the ceiling. Leila grins widely at the screen, my frame barely visible in the dark background as I flip off her screen, a photo she took of me mid-argument just to piss me off as sisters do.

    I hang up the call, move to the table and pick up Leila's phone. I turn it over, the pink and white zebra print case staring back at me like a missing child's photo on a milk carton.

    "This thing is glued to her hand, she would never leave home without it," I declare, the wobble in my voice matching my hands as I place the phone back onto the table. I lean both arms on it, my head lowering as I fight to steady my racing heart.

    "Hey, hey. It's okay, we'll find her," Tommy says it like a promise, one he can't keep, no matter how strongly he intends to. I can tell by the look on his face that he's not sure if he believes himself, that he wants to burst with emotion and anger. But the mask he wears has always been for me.

    I push myself up straight, my jaw tightening like clay forming in a kiln. "She took them. Maribel fucking took them,"

    "Listen," He begins, taking a step in front of me and forcing me to look up at him, "Don't jump to worst-case scenario, okay? If Maribel wanted any of us dead, we'd be dead already. She needs us for something,"

    A gust of wind bursts through the front door, Alex appearing with rustled hair as he declares, "No sign of any of them,"

    "She's planning something," Yasmin joins the room, her fists clenched at her side.

    Tommy is quiet, his mind ticking over like a clock, "She's using them as bait,"

    "For what?" Alex questions, pushing his hair back to flatten the damage the wind has caused.

    "For her," Tommy informs, his eyes trained on me.

    "Then she can have me," I state, turning away from him and ready to breeze past Yasmin and out the door. "I'm getting them back,"

    Before I make it past Yaz, she jolts her arm out like a solid wall, preventing me from going any further. I turn to her, glaring bolts through her skin as she grins, "Not so fast. If she had them, she'd be here for you already. They more than likely had a run-in and are hiding out somewhere. Running in there without knowing for sure is just helping her out,"

    "Yaz is right, we gotta come up with some sort of plan," Tommy agrees. I turn to him, my knuckles ticking beside me, the waiting and unknowing eating me up inside. I'm used to charging first and asking questions later. Tommy approaches me, resting his hands on my biceps and looking me in the eyes, "I know you won't like it, but we need to talk to Zeke and my Father. They know more about Maribel's plans than we do. It's the smart thing,"

    "How is that the smart decision? You know who those assholes are, I don't trust them," I defend, my eyes widening at the mere suggestion.

    "Believe it or not, they're on our side. Not for the same reasons as us, but our interests still align," He informs, his eyes softening as if pleading with me to understand, "I would never take you there if I didn't think it would help,"

    He's right. The only other time he took me there was to save my life from the Vamp Venom. There's history between him and his family, history he's never told me for whatever reason. He doesn't want to be there just as much as I don't.

    So, I nod. My heart relaxes, trusting him wholly and completely. Tommy has never done anything to harm me, he's helped me countless times at risk to himself. He releases a pent-up breath, relief washing over him at my agreement.

    "Okay, here. Take this," He begins, pulling his hoodie over his head and passing the article of clothing towards me, "We have to cover your scent or they'll be able to find you,"

    "Believe me, her scent is covered, Thomas. Just ask the laundry room," Yasmin grins, moving to drop a hand onto her friend's shoulder with a squeeze, "You really think ahead, huh?"

    "Yasmin, fuck off," I roll my eyes, pulling Tommy's hoodie over my head and rubbing the sleeve cuffs over my neck and face just to help.

    Yasmin steps forward, wrapping her arms around me tightly and swaying back and forth. I can see her smile from my position, squished onto the side of her face. My brows furrow at the randomness of her actions. She moves back, holding me and smiling still, "Wouldn't want it to smell like two Tommys out there. You blend in more if you smell like all of us,"

    "You're enjoying this," I frown, pinching my face in annoyance.

    "Oh, I am. Should we take this upstairs? Then I can really get my scent in there," She mocks. I keep my face still, refusing to react to her childish teasing. She huffs, rolling her eyes and stepping back before nodding her head towards me, "Your turn, Alex,"

    Alex steps forward, smiling at me as he tugs his shirt forward and smears it all over my face and hair. I wave him off instantly, hearing the sound of his light laughter as I try to straighten the messed-up strands.

    Alex likes a distraction just as much as I do. Pretending everything is okay almost makes it true. 

    "Okay, let's go," Tommy says quietly from beside me. He crouches down as I pass him, his eyes looking up at me even as I climb onto his back and wrap my arms tightly around his neck. His hands hold my outer thighs firmly as he straightens up, that familiar wind engulfing me. 

    A tightness twists itself into my gut, my mind running wild with possibilities and over-reactions. I want to burst in anger and forget to rationalise, but Tommy is right. I don't want to do anything to jeopardise my sisters, not again.