Rebels [Blood Magic, Book 4]

Chapter 19: Blood Debt

That wasn't the end of the nightmares, but they began to lessen in frequency and severity, finally allowing me to get some rest. And with rest came a clearheadedness I hadn't felt since that fateful morning in the woods. I'd need it for the impending sentencing, and the gauntlet of unwanted opinions I had to navigate leading up to it.

"There'd be no shame in putting them to death," my father said to me one night over dinner when Keel was taking private council with Owen, something they'd done more frequently in the days since the hunting trip. "Truth be told, I'd like to do it myself. Once, I could have." There was an almost wistfulness to that last bit.

I put my fork down, piece of steak still speared on the end. "I understand why you all want their heads, but I don't want this on my conscience. And if I let you or Keel sway my opinion, I'm no better off than I was at the motel."

"You're much better off."

I rolled my shoulder and grimaced. "I'm not so sure about that, but I am stronger. And I am capable of making up my own mind." I recalled kissing Keel's blood-wet face, the stains on his clothes spreading to mine, and I wondered what Ephraim would think of the rest of the new me.

He sighed. "I think you're making a mistake." It was as hard for a former fixer like him to see my side as it was for Keel, who came from the land of draconian Nosferatu laws.

I looked him in the eye, holding his gaze in mine for a moment before speaking. "Regardless, it's my mistake to make. I hated the executions at the compound, and yet I'm being asked to do the same thing here. Wherever I go, this seems to follow me. This time, however, I have another option: I can put their fate back in the hands of the weres."

My father could barely contain his outrage. "They couldn't keep their hands off fae magic in the first place, and now you're asking me to believe that McKeown will enforce a just sentence on his own son?"

I thought back to all the time I'd spent with Owen, his selfless donation of blood and his remorse. "Yes, I do."

"Mildred, you can't leave all your enemies alive."

"I can't just throw away my soul either."

You are still light. I hadn't thought of those words in a long time, but they came to me now. If I didn't hold onto the good in me, I really would be back in the motel, and I'd tasted enough of that bitter darkness for it to scare me.

I would not be the swift hand of supe justice, even if it was the family business. I would tread my own path.

Despite having lost much of my appetite, I picked up my fork again, and attempted to change the subject. "So, what's the latest on the rescue plans?"

Even though I was still in recovery and not officially attending meetings, Keel and Owen made sure I was involved in every stage of the process: keeping me up to date on daily developments, seeking my input on whatever ideas had been offered up, and then faithfully reporting my thoughts to the group. My father, being part of those meetings, knew all of this, but pretended he didn't. I appreciated the attempt at peacemaking.