Oh, you've got jokes.
Before we go any further, let me end the suspense. At this point in the story, I had no memory of the attack or of the man Nate lit up with our headlights and burnt to a crisp. As far as I knew, Alana and I had a blast at Jack of Spades. We danced, ate, and she drank a whole lot of virgin cocktails while Nate watched over us.
Yes, I remember sneaking off to see Jax and finding him with Bash. I woke up the next morning thinking fondly of our threesome and proud I'd gotten Alana back home on time.
My sweet, bright-eyed companion gave no signs of distress. No hint the events we both gushed over at breakfast was half-truths, most of them fabricated by Olida when she wiped my mind and replaced the truth.
Not to worry, I do regain those memories and a lot more from my childhood mum had a hand in taking.
Oh, come now, I'm not going to tell you just yet. Where's the fun in that? I have to leave you with a little suspense.
Where were we? Hm mm, Papa Knight cut his business trip short. Uncle Ash apprised him of what happened, and he flew back home the same morning. Of course I didn't know any this. I was just happy to see him later in the day when he popped in to see me.
He found me lounging in the pool on a floatie while enjoying a mug of milkshake. Someone in the kitchen was kind enough to make it for me. Since my arrival I've never had to ask for food. It just appeared and was some of the most delicious shit I've tasted.
If you've not had a cheesecake shake, please go and get you one.
There I am all by my lonesome. Alana had been called into a meeting by Maude regarding staff business. Or so I gathered as she rushed to explain in her haste to leave, promising she'd be back in a few hours.
Jasmine Sullivan's 'need you bad' was pouring out of the hidden speakers at a low volume and I'm humming the tune, toes skimming the cool crystal-clear water. My mind was on Jax. I'd called him a few times and not to my surprise my calls went straight to voicemail. Understandable. He worked nights and I most likely wouldn't hear from him until the sun dropped out of the sky.
Not soon after my thoughts wander to the other man staring in my recent fantasies. I had no number for Bash and with every passing hour since waking, I fought the urge to go in search of him. We had some unfinished business he and I.
A pair of lovebirds bathed and frolicked in the fountain in the middle of the garden, beside a tiered birdfeed stand. I imagined, both were put in place for anyone who enjoyed birdwatching. Other lovebirds flitted nearby, along with a handful of budgies, two golden macaws, and a territorial pair of bluejays calling the garden home. The fuckers were noisy, but pleasant all the same, especially with the breath of cool breeze whispering through the trees.
Different scents drifted in the air. Depending on where I turned my head, I might catch the enticing fragrance of cherry blossoms and citrus from the mandarin trees, or jasmine and night-blooming cereus trained to climb the marble columns.
"There she is."
The sound of his soft voice washed over me. My lips curled into a big grin. I flipped back the floppy brim of my oversized sunhat to peer up at him. "Big Papa, you're back."
He smiled down at me from a resting bench beneath the shade of a flowering cherry blossom tree. Our suite–his, mine and Aunty Olida's–overlooked the peristyle garden, its marble colonnade enclosing our little slice of paradise.
If you're wondering, he didn't share a bedroom with his wife. Shit, the woman and her children occupied an entirely different wing. Talk about marriage of convenience.
"I am." He nodded, watching me. He had a way of staring at me as if he was waiting for something to happen. It didn't make me uncomfortable; the waiting was always wrapped in the soft warmth of his adoration, the bright note of pride that shone back at me. "Would you care to join me on a night out?"
"Hell yeah!" I exclaimed wading toward the shallow end of the beach-style pool. "Where to?"
"It is a dinner engagement," he replied as he rose to his feet and walked the shadowed length of the colonnade to meet me. "Hosted by a friend."
Placing a hand on my hat to keep it in place, I tilted my head back and flashed a beaming smile up at him. "Just us or do I have the pleasure of enduring your pleasant daughter and wife's cheery dispositions for the evening?"
I don't know if I mentioned it before, but my Papa is one good-looking man. Mum never had a chance, especially when he unleashed one of his rare smiles.
He pinched my chin. "It is a family affair."
"Hm." I shrugged, hardly put off.
Camile and Calista were at best entertainment; they would never be the reason why I'd have a bad mood.
"Tonight, you'll meet the other families."
"What do you mean, I have more aunts and uncles to meet, cousins?"
"No, none related. Think of us as a part of a collective. The heads of each family are captains of industries, and from time to time we get together."
"Oh, okay. Is there anything I need to know; I wouldn't want to ruffle any feathers."
"Not to worry, just be your charming self."
I nodded, chewing on my bottom lip. The night, despite his down play of it, seemed important and the last thing I wanted was to embarrass him.
More than anything, I realized right then, I wanted to fit in. I wanted him to be proud of me, to see me not as an unpolished, vulgar hothead, but as a young woman with poise and all the social graces befitting my new station in life.
"I'll send someone to see to you while Alana's indisposed."
"Damn, that's a long ass meeting." The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.
Cringe. I ducked my head out of shame.
"Necessary." Papa Knight added. He dipped his head and pecked my cheek. "Go on, I'll see you in a few."
Excited about the night ahead, I literally skipped away. The only dinner engagement I ever attended was the Christmas dinners hosted by my mother's church sisters. At the last one, the elderly woman spent the whole night side-eyeing me because I dared to wear a jumper that showed off my cleavage.
If only she knew my ass was on fire from the paddling Jax meted out an hour earlier.
Heh, fuck all that. I was eager to be seen out, on my daddy's arm, at one of his fancy shindigs. And just between us, it gave me a sense of belonging. He wasn't hiding me like a dirty secret.
Much to Camile's chagrin. I heard her barking threats moments later, threatening to boycott the night if he didn't leave his 'shame' at home.
"Suit yourself," was his reply.
No arguments, nothing but that one quiet response and then silence.
An hour later I'm soaking in a eucalyptus and rosemary infused bath. Jazz is playing softly from the speakers, my eyes are closed and I'm laid back, relaxed with a mask on my face. Quiet murmurs rose and fell among the trio of women Papa Knight had sent up to help me dress for the night. Between songs I could hear their feet shuffling around my private sitting room getting things ready.
I'm lost in thought, thinking of my night with Bash and Jax. My fingers trail light circles around one nipple until it turned to a wet, sensitive bead I slide my thumb over. I tug at the half-ring hanging off the barbell pierced through it, and squeeze the turgid tip hard, loving the sting, the rush of heat curling at the pit of my stomach. Like metal drawn to magnet my free hand slid down my flat stomach, dipping between my thighs. I spread my legs, draping one over the ledge of the jacuzzi tub and stroke myself.
You're probably wondering, what if I get caught. Didn't give a fuck if one of the women walked in on me, the thought alone had me driving two fingers into my cunt, mimicking the way Bash fucked me with his tongue.
I'm so turned on it took no time at all to climax. Trembling, I squeezed and stroked my stiff clit between my fingers like I plan to use my hand on Bash's dick, coaxing out a second orgasm.
Fuck I couldn't wait to see him. The second I get the chance; bet I'm stealing him away to finish what we started.
Don't judge, I'm one-track minded as fuck.
****
Aunt Morana paid me a visit while I was in the make-up chair. No hello, or how are ya?
Whatever, I was relaxed from the full body massage I'd received and overly pampered from the facial, manicure and pedicure I dozed through.
The sun was setting, casting the sky in a rosy blush. Morana walked into the sitting room where we were set-up, eyeing my things with her nose crunched up as if everything was coated in dust and she couldn't bare the thought of getting any of it on her.
For a moment I remained silent, watching as she walked directly to the ornate double-doors opened onto my bedroom. She stopped at the threshold and swept the space with a critical eye, before turning back to face me.
"Satisfied?" I asked.
The bitch looked anything but.
"Hakon informed me of his decision to introduce you to the families," she said brushing her hands as if she'd accidently touched something. "I can't imagine why he wishes to air his indiscretion to the world. Poor Camile must suffer the humiliation of sharing a roof with you, and now this."
I'm not heartless. Yeah, I didn't like Camile and her dry-face daughter but I'm a woman first, and let's just say it could never be me. I'd have fucked shit up if my husband blindsided me with the revelation of an affair, a love child, and the news said child would be living in the home we built together all on the same night, without so much as a discussion.
That's fucked up on every level. But it also shows the relationship between those two was based on something other than love or even respect, for him to feel comfortable enough to pull that shit.
Like I said, could never be me. On the other side of that coin, big as I am, I was the child in question, and their marriage had nothing to do with me. That was for them to figure out. So, Morana throwing their marital drama in my face was fucked up, and mean-spirited.
Come on now, this was a grown ass woman actively going out of her way to make her own flesh and blood feel small.
Where the fuck was her loyalty, to me, my Papa?
"What is it?" I asked her as Jilly primed my face. "Is it my closeness to him that's got your panties in a bunch? You come across as one of those nasty bitches that secretly want to fuck their brother?" My disrespectful ass said for all to hear.
The whole room went deathly silent.
"This is precisely why this night will be a disaster. You're uncouth, an animal."
"Ah, you're a classist. For a second there I thought it was a race thing."
Morana shook her head, like a disappointed mother. "One of these days you will learn to curb your tongue. For now, I can only hope your head isn't as hard as it looks."
Here's what you'll to come learn about Morana, it was never about choosing Camile over her brother. The woman was the moral compass of the Knight family. She didn't give a shit who you were, she would always stand on the side of what's right. Morana loved as strongly as the heat of the sun, fierce and unflinching. But you had to earn that love, and I had not started off on the best foot.
In her eyes, Papa Knight's delivery of me to the family was the first strike against me. Second, was my course mouth. She abhorred 'impertinence' as she calls it, and I was as disrespectful as they come. You'd think mum hadn't taught me better.
Oh, I can't tell you how many times I've shamed the dead.
Standing by the window in the shadows, as evening crept over the room, Morana stared out at the aging day in quiet contemplation.
She turned to me after a while. In a voice reminiscent of a preschool teacher, she proceeded to school me on what to expect on my first engagement, as a 'representative' of the Knight family.
Best understand, while we were a family, the name Knight was a brand, and each of us had a role to play. Everyone understood this, no question. In the eyes of the public, we were never to seem like anything less than a united front. If you weren't family or someone with a vested interest in the brand, you were an outsider, an enemy of the fucking state.
Not one to mince her words, Morana made it clear I was either capable of comporting myself or I wasn't, the night would tell.
"Make a choice," Morana said in parting after she'd schooled me on who would be in attendance, and the significance of the meeting.
She'd spoken in detail, going over the names of the heads of each family, who were our allies or enemies, and the importance of knowing when to open my mouth and when to keep it shut.
"There are those counting on you to fail."
"Are you one of them?"
"Silly girl, I wouldn't be here, if was." She paused in the doorway. "But I suspect you've deduced as much. You're smart Hollis, much, I think, to your own detriment. You're young, beautiful and could easily rise to become the face of this family. It all depends on your willingness to learn and play by the rules."
She looked away, gave a nod of her head and left as unceremoniously as she arrived. For a while, I sat staring at the empty space she'd been standing in, thinking of my future. I never questioned my place in the Knight's family. I'd simply accepted what was given to me.
Think about it. I'd gone from being homeless to living in a damn mansion. That's like wandering for days, starving, and stumbling up on a spread of all your favourite food. You don't question your fortune, you accept it. You eat until you're bloated, thoughts of tomorrow the furthest thing from your mind.
Suddenly, it was tomorrow. And there I was, in the same predicament before Papa Knight pulled me into his world. I had no plans, no clue what I wanted to do with myself. Sure, there was the short-term plan to finish my education, for everything else I couldn't be bothered.
You're probably thinking, well that's no way to live.
Well, sometimes life takes you on a journey you least expect, changing you in ways you couldn't have fathomed. Faced with the reality of losing mum shifted something in me. Watching her wither away helpless to do anything about it, my dreams, the life I'd once planed, all became pointless. Every day was a gift, and I began to live as such, mind focus on the present and nothing more.
Morana's little visit made me realize I needed to shift gears once again. The thing was, I didn't think I had it in me. Not much scared me. But the idea of plotting my life, while knowing none of it was promised, struck a fear so deep within me, I couldn't breathe. Slapping at my heaving chest, I gasped for each breath, but the air had turned to stone. I couldn't pull enough of it into my lungs.
I jumped up, startling Jilly and ran to the en suite. My fingers slipped, fumbling to turn to the tap on. I gathered two handfuls of the rushing water and splash my face. The cold jolted me. My chest loosened. Hands planted on the counter I sucked down a lungful of air. Goosebumps prickled my entire body.
Nothing of the like had ever happened to me before. I'd had my first panic attack, and unfortunate for me, it wouldn't be the last.
My breathing slowed, the trembling shaking my body had eased to a slight tremor. Still, I didn't move, I stood stiffly, eyes squeezed shut.
I felt a pair of small arms wrap around my waist.
My eyes popped open and collided with the reflection of Olida staring back at me in the mirror.
"Your moods are like the tides of the moon." She frowned. "It affects everything. Why are you sad?"
"I'm not." I cleared my throat and straightened my posture.
Releasing me she stepped back. "Was that your first lie of the day or your last?"
"What?" I quirked a brow at her, so not in the mood to entertain anyone.
Olida sighed. "I'm trying to cheer you up, but you're making it impossible." She grinned, flashing two white rows of frighteningly straight pointy teeth.
"Oh, I…" I didn't know what to say to the girl, her sudden appearance and freakish teeth had thrown me off balance. "Um, thanks."
"Jilly's waiting." She dropped the smile, as if she was aware, it had unsettled me. "You don't want to be late."
I looked her over. She looked as though she'd just crawled out of bed. "Aren't you going?"
"Of course."
Again, I looked her over, cocking a questioning brow at her.
Olida giggled, looking down at herself. "Oh." She brushed off my concern with a flick of her wrist. "I've been with my team for years; they'll have me thrust up and ready to go in no time. Come on, out you go."
Pushy girl shooed me out of the bathroom and didn't leave until I was back in the makeup chair. I swear she was thirteen going on fifty.
During Morana's impromptu coaching I learned each of the six families were associated with one distinct colour often paired with black and gold, ours was red. If memory served me right, I don't think I've ever worn an outfit in full red before. To be honest, I immediately believed the colour wouldn't look good on me.
Thankfully, I was wrong. Trust when I say, your girl should wear red more often. And you should have seen us, the whole family congregated in the grand foyer, all coordinated and shit. Us women dazzled in red with touches of black and gold while the men cut sharp figures in black with accents of red and gold. The ten of us looked like a dream.
I don't think I've felt prettier in my life. Unlike the other night women, who wore mermaid silk dresses with sweeping trains and a variety of necklines and sleeve styles, Papa Knight had ordered my gown to be tailored to match his tux.
That night I floated into our host's receiving room on his arm, freshly introduced, wearing a vintage A-line tuxedo-satin dress with black and gold lace appliques at the cinched waist that flowed gracefully to the floor. Gold embroidery embellished the detachable train, three-quarter sleeves, and shirt-style collar. My face was lightly made up, my skin dewy and glowing, my hair straightened and pulled back into a bun.
Originally, my stylist had picked out a thin gold watch, a diamond chocker and matching earrings to go with the dress.
At the door before we climbed into the waiting limo, Papa Knight stopped me and gifted me a jewelry box with a full set. As I stood facing the mirror, grinning like a girl who'd won the lottery, he replaced the constellation of crystal pearls at my ears with a pair of show-stopping chandelier earrings.
You should see this thing, whew, it boasted a sparkling mix of pear-shaped and round diamonds, their brilliance danced on my skin. With practiced ease he removed the choker next and placed about my neck a bold diamond pendant necklace.
The breath I was holding as he fastened the clasp, fell off my lips on a gasp. The necklace alone, would have been enough.
I was floating as he took my hand and added the matching bracelet to my free wrist then slipped a diamond and ruby ring, similar to the one on his pinky, onto my index finger. The ring cemented my place in the family, as everyone wore a version of it.
Stepping back, he waited for me to admire myself in the mirror. Cheesing, big time, I turned to face him, feeling like a princess.
"I love it. Thank you, Papa Knight." And for the first time I reached up on my toes and kissed his cheek.
A smile brighter than the sun lit his face.
It was the same smile he wore introducing me to the host, Avery Rush. Rush was a wiry male with sharp brown eyes and a ready smile. A charmer this one and incidentally, not a member of the six families.
He wore a deep charcoal-grey suit and his short hair slicked back from his boyish face, gleamed like raven's wings caught in moonlight. The bright pink silk scarf tied at his throat added a touch of colour to the look and spoke volumes about the man's affable personality.
My spirit took to him instantly.
Eyes twinkling with mischief he took my offered hand and with a dip of his head pecked the back of it. "Charmed."
"Likewise," I replied with a little dip of the knee.
Check your girl out, being all demure and shit. When in Rome, do as the Roman's do right?
Granted most everyone was waiting for me to show my ass. Here's what they didn't know, while I am crass and unsophisticated, I'm also a damn chameleon. Give me an audience, and I'm like a fish taking to water. I was born to be the main character, baby.
The Rush's foyer wasn't half as big or as modern as the one back at the mansion. The entire estate had an old, English country house feel. The front doors opened to a high, timber-beamed ceiling that stretched the length of the foyer. Light from a wrought-iron chandelier spilled over polished oak floors, catching the gleam of brass sconces and framed mirrors lining the walls.
The air was moderate, most likely temperature controlled, carrying a faint trace of wine and perfume. To my left, tall windows framed the night, their panes glinting like black glass. Beyond them, the reflection of lamps from the drive flickered faintly.
Pockets of guests gathered in small alcoves on the periphery of the entrance hall, murmuring in low voices, their laughter rising above the hush as names were announced. Others stood near the base of the sweeping staircase, their shadows long under the golden light.
Our entire family moved as one away from the entrance, nodding at the other guests as we ventured deeper into the house, drawn like the others to the pulse of music, the steady rhythm of strings and low brass drifting from the ballroom, each note spilling into the open foyer.
Papa Knight halted my steps with a touch of his hand to the small of my back, preventing me from following the rest of the family through the archway entering the ballroom.
Plucking two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter he handed one to me and the other to his wife. She drifted along by his side as he led me across the hall. I threw a glance over my shoulder. My stomach soured, seeing Calista on Bash's arm. The two of them were popular and were quickly enveloped by a group of young people excited to see them.
I turned my head forward only to find Camile staring at me. Damn it. The smile curling her thin fucking lips, added to the glint of triumph in her eyes, pissed me off. To calm down, I reminded myself I'd had that boy lapping at my pussy a night ago and I would have him doing the same and much more before this night was over.
I blew the bitch a kiss and trained my gaze straight ahead.
The receiving room opened wide, alive with sound and soft light. A troupe of pantomime performed near the far wall to a packed room. Their expressive story-telling a backdrop to the steady hum of conversation and soft music blending with the muted clink of glass and quiet laughter. Wait staff moved through the room in practiced silence, clearing away empty flutes and offering trays of refreshments and bite-sized pastries.
"Hakon, who is this lovely creature?" asked the short East Asian woman with dark-moonshine eyes and a severe overbite, who came to stand beside us.
This must be the head of the Sato family, Iseul Sato. The gold claw pendant pinned to her chest, matched the one on Papa Knight's lapel. It was the same representation for every other head.
"Iseul," My father confirmed, acknowledging the pale woman with a raised brow. "I was under the impression you'd miss tonight's festivities."
"Mhm," Iseul hummed meeting my gaze. "And miss the opportunity to meet the bell of the ball? Not a chance. Where have you been hiding her?"
We were literally standing eye to eye. But Iseul might as well have been a giant. The woman carried herself like a celebrated general, exuding calm strength in a light blue floor-sweeping gown.
"He has two daughters." Camile chuckled, while managing to look down the bridge of her nose at the other woman.
"Ladies, let's leave the politicking for another night. Iseul." Bowing his head, he wished her a good night and turned from the room.
Papa Knight led me away, both Camile and I hanging off his arms.
"I want in Hakan. Name your price, my Qian would be an asset and a fine match."
We hardly made it two steps before we were intercepted, this time by a blonde couple. Anton and Katrina Belov looked more like siblings than man and wife. Their blue-moonshine eyes appraised me with open interest. The man wearing a purple brocade suit-jacket, and the familiar claw pin, spoke to Papa Knight in thick Russian. As much as I didn't understand a single word he said, I had no doubt they were talking about me.
Bitch, you'd think I was royalty the way everyone fawned over me. Problem, Papa Knight kept me tucked under his wing all night. So as much as I wanted to sneak off with Bash, I couldn't. And boy did the fucker look delicious in his fitted black suit worn over a deep red dress-shirt. It burned me deeply, forced to watch Calista parade him around, draped off his arm like they were an item.
Every now and then, I'd catch him stealing glimpses my way. I pretended not to notice.
The champagne was flowing, the music, a nice waltz, had me swaying as I people watched. An hour later, there was I was, standing next to Papa Knight admiring a wall of abstract painting.
His witch of a wife had wandered off the moment it was polite to do so. She hated my guts. The whole ride over, she stared at my neck, her faced crunched up in distaste, as if I'd stolen the necklace from her personal collection.
Normally, I'd have baited her. But like I said, Camile and her daughter were entertainment, nothing so significant that I'd let them ruin one of the most magical nights of my life.
Speaking of magical, Olida flitted through the party, wearing the hell out of her spaghetti-strap mini dress with a feathered hemline. For the occasion she'd chosen a red wig, cut short with a side-swept bang and lightly tapered ends to give it an airy feathered look. The style fit her thin face, softening the angles of her sharp features. As she wove through the crowd eyes followed and voices lowered in whispers.
I wasn't sure what I was witnessing, just that it didn't sit well with me. The need to protect her surged unexpected and without noticing I began to tap my foot, getting agitated.
The girl was quiet and mostly kept to herself. There were a few times I'd glimpsed her spying on me from behind the heavy drapes dressing her balcony window while I walked the garden or swam. She'd never felt inclined to join me or engage me in conversation whenever I waved her over, inviting her to join me.
Some people were inherently shy, and I chalked it up to her needing time to warm up to me. It was why it had been such a surprise to find her in my bathroom comforting me.
Papa and I were standing by the arched entranced to the ballroom. "I'm going to go hang with Aunty Olida, for a bit." I whispered in his ear.
She was halfway down the hall heading toward the foyer when she stopped abruptly, turned and looked in our direction. An expression I couldn't place flitted over her face before it vanished.
A smile replaced the odd look as she raised a finger and signalled to one of the waiters floating around the entrance with platters heavy with finger foods and cocktails. She accepted one of the small plates and cut a path toward us.
"Hungry?" she asked once she was standing before me, raising the plate for me to take it.
I never go anywhere on an empty stomach. Besides mum would roll over in her grave if I'd left home without eating. I wouldn't go so far as to say I was full, but I'd nibbled on fruits and pastries in the hours leading up to getting ready that I could go the rest of the night without eating and not feel the need to chew an arm off.
Nevertheless, I took the offering and thanked her. "You read my mind." I lied eyeing the colourful plate.
I recognized nothing on it. Everything was…petite. Eating it would most likely open my appetite and leave me unsated.
As she waited, looking up at me with expectant eyes, I realized she wanted me to eat. Ah fuck, I didn't want to.
"Do you want to dance?"
Her eyes widened.
Papa Knight and I had made our rounds throughout the various rooms. I got the reason, he wanted the families to see us, understand my importance to him. Turned out Papa was a big damn deal, and while my presence was fresh fodder for the gossip mill. For the most part, people just wanted to be seen with him, hear his opinion on one thing or another, or brag in hopes of gaining his approval. Damn, we barely had time to appreciate the art works on display, caught up in small talk.
Though we did sit for a good fifteen minutes to enjoy a minstrel act with the Hales. Anise and her husband Dimitrius were two of the most magnetic people I've ever met. They were from Jamaican and Nigerian ancestry, and both wore the claws. The entire family was statuesque, and regal in white. First son Damian couldn't keep his eyes off me. I would know because I'd been following him with my own eyes. Fucker walked like a lion, tall and proud, as if he had a big dick and it weighed a ton. He had a twin sister, and four younger brothers. All of them were disgustingly beautiful.
Fuck me.
The one place Papa and I hadn't ventured was the ball room, as we waited for the dinner bell, which was why I suggested taking Olida for a spin on the dance floor.
Unfortunately, we never did get that far into the evening. The fronts doors slammed open, and three hooded women dressed in fitted black cloaks walked through. Their faces were covered save for their glowing blue eyes.
Olida pushed me behind her with surprising ease. I didn't even have time to be stunned by her actions.
A round of gasps spread through the hall as those close by turned to the entrance. Many of the guests scattered, scurrying to get away from the three women.
The sound of rushing feet filled the hall behind me. I didn't look to see who they were, or why suddenly multiple gusts of wind, swept past.
Or rather than emptying, the entryway grew more crowded by the second. These men and women bearing the colours of the families flanked the foyer, soldiers ready to defend against the intruders.
The newcomers had my full attention. The woman in the middle and tallest of the three walked slightly ahead of the others, rotating her hands over each other—one clockwise, the other counter-clockwise. Between her palms, electrical-blue light sparked to life, growing until she held a grapefruit-sized ball of energy hovering on the air between her hands.
"The Trine," someone whispered.
My enemy.
I'm not joking, my life was on the damn line.