Marcus was shaking his head before she even finished speaking. “You must have been mistaken. Eddie wouldn’t have killed anyone. That’s not what this whole thing is about.”
“It happened again in Chicago,” she continued, as if he hadn’t spoken. “The bouncer at the place I was dancing.”
He backed away from her. “Look, maybe Eddie roughed them up, but he didn’t kill anyone. That’s bullshit.”
“Steven told me it’s been going on for years.” Instinct screamed at her, told her not to press him. If he really had no idea what was going on, she risked pushing him into rejecting what she said out of hand. She tried to pull back, but she couldn’t stop the flood of words. “What do you think happened to my parents, Marcus? What do you think happened to your parents?”
He paled and took another step, but his eyes went hard. “My parents died in a car accident when I was a child,” he said stonily. “Charles Talbot took me in, and he’s given me everything. So you might want to watch what you say next.”
She’d gone too far. “I’m sorry.”
“Sure you are,” he scoffed. “Look, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t keep you here. But that’s damn selfish of me. What we’re supposed to do is more important than what I want, or what you want. But that doesn’t mean Dad would let the things you’re describing happen. He wouldn’t.”
She ignored the guilt and the protests of her empty stomach, and dropped her gaze to the floor. “Should I go upstairs?”
His hands clenched into fists at his sides before relaxing. “No. No, of course not.” He nodded down a hallway. “The conservatory is that way. Enjoy your dinner.” With that, he turned on his heel and stalked off in the opposite direction.
Thanks to her newly sharp senses, Mackenzie heard both voices before she reached the top of the stairs. She recognized the cadence of the first voice as belonging to Marcus, but the second was lower, muffled, and she couldn’t place it.
As her steps brought her closer, she realized Marcus was talking to Charles, and the conversation had grown heated. “Why didn’t you tell me Eddie and Mason might be—”
Charles cut Marcus off in a low voice. “You should have recognized it as a possibility, Marcus. In a perfect world none of this would have been necessary, but you of all people know what we’re fighting for.”
“It’s unacceptable, Dad.” Marcus’s own voice was low and furious, but rising in volume. “We’re trying to save people, not kill innocent ones who just happen to get in our way.”
“I’ve been alive almost eighty years,” Charles replied shortly. “I’ve watched my kind slowly disappear. How many of us do you think are left? Thirty? Forty? Your children could be the last generation. A few human deaths are nothing compared to the extinction of our entire race.”
“What about cougar deaths?” The question was quiet but damning. “What really happened to my parents? To Mackenzie’s parents?”
Mackenzie froze, afraid to move as silence fell in the study. Her heart pounded so loudly she was terrified Charles and Marcus would be able to hear, but no one came to the door as the silence stretched out.
When Charles finally broke it, it was with a harsh curse. “Steven and his lies. The girl doesn’t know better, Marcus, but you should. Steven’s had time to fill her head with nonsense. It’s your job to make her understand, not to let her confuse you.”
“But it makes sense,” Marcus protested weakly. “If you’d have Eddie kill people to get to Mackenzie, what else would you do?”
“Nothing is more important to me than the cougars.” Charles’s voice was icy. “Nothing. Never forget that.”
It took Marcus a long time to answer. “Okay. Okay, Dad. I’m sorry.”
Mackenzie heard footsteps and scurried back as quietly as possible. When she reached the top of the stairs she cleared her throat and walked—with a good deal more noise—toward her room.
Charles opened the study door, his expression warm and friendly and contrasting starkly with the cold look in his eyes. “Ah, there you are, Mackenzie. I hope you enjoyed your dinner?”
It was the hardest thing in the world to smile at him, and she was sure it looked sickly and terrified. “It was good, thank you. I was just—” She gestured down the hall.
Marcus appeared beside him in the doorway. “I should only be a couple of hours, Dad.” He brushed past Mackenzie without even looking at her.
“Drive carefully,” Charles called pleasantly. “Mackenzie, please allow me to accompany you to your room.”
Fear skittered up Mackenzie’s spine, and she turned without thought. “Marcus, where are you—”
He continued as if he hadn’t heard her, but Charles spoke just behind her, quiet and cold. “He has some errands to run. I can’t go myself, because I can’t trust you not to lie to him in an attempt to secure your own interests. But don’t worry. He’ll return soon.”
She spun to face Charles. Fear made her stumble when she saw the furious expression on his face. “I didn’t lie.” She hated the slight tremble in her voice, but her newly awakened instincts felt nothing but pure, unabated power from Charles, the kind that made her want to find a dim corner and hide.
“Neither did I.” Charles’s words and manner were matter-of-fact. “There is nothing more important to me than the cougars.” At her small start of surprise, he rolled his eyes and leaned closer. “Yes, yes, I could feel you out here, eavesdropping. Tell me. Did you learn anything useful?”
“That you’re a very, very good liar,” she whispered.
Charles merely shrugged and straightened his sweater before beckoning for her to follow him. “Live as long as I have, and you’ll be accomplished at it as well. Tiny fabrications are the cornerstone of our civilization, wouldn’t you agree?”
She followed him. There wasn’t anything else she could do, not when his power wrapped around her with all the smothering weight of a heavy wool blanket. Her legs felt stiff and unsteady from fear as she fell into step next to him, and she shoved her hands into her pockets to hide their shaking. “Since you’re being so honest with me, what’s going to happen to me if I don’t feel up to making babies?”
His glance was shrewd. “Yes, I suppose you would press the issue, wouldn’t you? Very well.” He folded his hands behind him as he walked. “I don’t need your consent to have your consent. I have several very strong, very competent empaths on retainer. I assure you I would find the entire process distasteful, but… Well, as I have said, there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to see our race survive.”
Mackenzie swallowed and stared straight ahead. “Will Marcus know that he’s raping me, or will you keep that detail from him as well?”
If she’d hoped to shock him, she failed. He didn’t miss a step, and his response was nonchalant. “I see no reason to punish him with the truth, not when he’s merely doing his duty. I never have.”
So Marcus would be Charles’s puppet again, hurting people without realizing it. Hurting her without realizing it. “You’re going to destroy him. He loves you. He trusts you.”
That stopped him, and he pivoted to stare at her, his expression inscrutable. “Perhaps you didn’t hear me the first time, Miss Evans. The children you and Marcus create will be the culmination of a lifetime’s work, and the continuation of our race.” His eyes flashed with something that might have been pain, but the emotion was gone before Mackenzie could place it. “That, my girl, is more important than any fond memories Marcus might have of me when I’m gone.”
For the first time since she’d arrived, her determination wavered. “How many children?” she asked quietly. “How many children would I need to have for you before I was free to live my own life?”
“As many as possible would be preferable,” he said immediately, “but one would suffice. If nothing went wrong.”
“Fine.” She struggled to keep her voice even. “Can I have a day or two to think about it?”