Cormack chuckled. “She sounds like a ball of energy.”
“Oh, she is. She’s still worked up about some incident up north. Apparently a bunch of rogue vampires and shifters got together and formed an army or something and tried to take down a group of monster hunters up there.”
Cormack snapped up his head. “I didn’t hear anything about that.”
“I don’t think they broadcast it.”
“Is your friend okay, though?”
“Zoe?” Paris snickered. “You don’t have to worry about Zoe. She always finds a way to win. She’s the most competitive person I know. Once the vampires went after Sami — well, let’s just say there was no way she was going to leave them standing.”
Cormack’s forehead wrinkled as he glanced at me. “I’m confused. Who is Sami?”
“The mage’s daughter,” I replied, internally cursing myself for referring to her as a thing rather than a person. That was my jealousy making an appearance — I was far too self-aware to pretend otherwise — and I hated myself for being that person.
“I guess I didn’t realize she had a daughter,” Cormack supplied. “How old is she?”
“Fourteen ... although she has the attitude of a twenty-two-year-old badass with an acid tongue. She gets that from her mother.”
Cormack chuckled. “I believe I know a little something about teenagers with attitude. I raised Aisling.” He smiled at mention of his only daughter. “She was a spitfire, too.”
“Well, Sami happens to be a magical spitfire and she caused a bit of trouble up in Hawthorne Hollow.”
Cormack straightened, his shoulders squaring. “Hawthorne Hollow?”
Paris nodded. “Why? Have you heard of it?”
“Everyone’s heard of Hawthorne Hollow. It’s a nexus.”
“That’s what Zoe said.”
“There’s also a woman up there, a witch I worked with a long time ago. Mama Moon.”
Paris held out her hands and shrugged. “Zoe didn’t mention her but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. She was distracted when we talked. Apparently Aric — that’s her husband — doesn’t like Detroit traffic. He was swearing up a storm in the background. I could hear Sami, too. She was giving her father directions.”
“Ah, I remember those days, too.” Cormack almost looked nostalgic. “Aisling was twelve when she decided to act as my navigator because she knew how to get us to places faster. And by ‘places’ I mean the mall ... and Starbucks ... and the Dairy Queen.”
I pressed my lips together, amused despite myself. “Did she manage to get you to those places faster?”
“No, but she enjoyed being the boss.” Cormack lifted his chin as a man in a red engineer’s hat poked his head inside and gave him a thumbs-up. “We’re ready.”
I looked toward the computer console and nodded. “We’re definitely ready.”
Before I could flip the switch, Cormack held up his hand. “I would appreciate if only one person was at the helm of the controls. There’s no reason for four people to put themselves in danger in case something goes wrong.”
I already knew what he was going to suggest and I vehemently shook my head. “It’s not going to be you.”
“Oh, no?” He arched an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, I outrank you.”
“It’s still my responsibility.” I was firm. “It’s my job.”
For the first time since entering the chamber, Oliver cleared his throat. His expression was expectant when I slid my eyes to him.
“What?”
“I believe it makes the most sense for me to operate the controls,” he said calmly.
“Um ... no.” I folded my arms over my chest. “It’s definitely my job.”
“Except I’ve been here longer than you and have already survived several gate malfunctions,” he reminded me. “The first time it happened I wasn’t taken because I’m a vampire and the creatures on the other side had no interest. The second time I was taken, but only to serve as a babysitter for the Grimlock mouth.”
Cormack shot Oliver a quelling look. “I believe you’re talking about my daughter.”
“And I stand by the statement.” Oliver refused to back down. “It makes sense for me to be the one to throw the switch. The rest of you can gather in the library, just to be on the safe side.”
I expected Cormack to shoot him down so I kept my mouth shut. I wanted to pool my energy to argue with the Grimlock patriarch. To my utter surprise, Cormack nodded.
“That does make the most sense,” he said after a beat. “We’ll move to the library and you can flip the switch. Make sure you wait until I get a confirmation text from Cillian that he and Lily are clear of the parking lot.”
Oliver nodded in agreement as Cormack grabbed my elbow and directed me toward the library.
“Wait a second,” I argued, putting up a fight. “I still think it should be me.”
“And I still outrank you.” Cormack flashed a smile that was meant to aggravate. “I’m the boss.”
Oh, I hated it when the Grimlock men got bossy. It happened on a regular basis. “Just ... .”
Before I could finish what I was going to say — honestly, I had no idea what my argument was going to be but I figured it would be legendary — Cormack’s phone beeped. He glanced at the screen and then tilted his head toward Oliver. “Do it.”
“Wait.” I wanted to find a way to overcome his strength without injuring him, stop this before it even got started, but it was already too late.
Oliver’s hand moved toward the switch on the console and he hovered over it for a beat before lowering his fingers.
“Here it comes,” he intoned. “Fire in the hole!”
Two
Instinct took over and I ducked my head, only registering the bright flash of light out of the corner of my eye. Cormack’s arm automatically covered my face, as if he was protecting Lily rather than a grown adult, and before I even realized what was happening I registered the sound.
It was the hum I hadn’t realized I was going to miss until it was already gone.
“It’s back,” Oliver offered from the other room. He sounded calm, as if it was a normal day, and when I crawled out from under Cormack’s arm I found the gate was indeed back ... and looked completely normal.
“I don’t want to complain,” Paris started from the spot behind us. “I mean ... I don’t want to be that person. Still, I feel kind of abandoned because you only tried to protect Izzy, which essentially left me to be sucked into the gate.”
Cormack shot her an amused look as he straightened. “I apologize. I wasn’t really thinking.”
“Or you just like her better.”
He shot me a fond look. “She is one of my favorite people in the world. There are times I prefer her to my own children.”
The fact that he could deliver the statement with a straight face had me laughing. The outburst felt surreal given the circumstances, and before I knew it I was bent over at the waist, my hands resting on my knees, and caught in a cycle of outright guffaws.