48. Cara In Danger

"You've offended someone—or several people—and they're out to get you. This time, you might not be lucky enough to survive," Celine said gravely.

Cara's chest tightened as she read Celine's mind, sensing the truth in her words. So far, the woman hadn't lied.

[Who could it be? Your stepfather? Travis? Or the Scott brothers?]

'It could be any of them, but I doubt it's Travis.'

[Why not Travis?]

'He still wants something from me, and he doesn't strike me as the killing type.'

Cara snapped back to the moment. "Do you have any idea when they'll come for me?"

"No," Celine admitted, her tone heavy with warning. "But I know it will be soon. Please, Cara, be careful. You may be powerful, but you are not immortal. Even vampires can be killed."

Cara nodded. "I hear you, and I will be very careful. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Take care," Celine said softly.

Cara gave her a final glance before heading outside with Farrah. As they stepped onto the porch, Celine called out, "Cara! Please remember the road next time. Athena seems to be very forgetful."

Farrah groaned. "I'm not forgetful! I just don't come here often."

Cara chuckled. "I promise, Celine, I'll remember the way. Goodbye!"

As they walked away, Cara spotted Marco, now fully healed, standing near the side of the house. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Cara braced herself, thinking he might pick up where he'd left off earlier. But instead, Marco approached her with an expression she hadn't expected.

Standing before her, his towering frame imposing, Marco said, "I'm sorry for what I did—and for calling you a nasty bitch."

Cara's eyes narrowed. "Really? You're sorry?"

"Yes. I am. Do you think I'm lying?" Marco asked earnestly.

"No," Cara admitted. "I know you're not lying. But you don't seriously expect me to forgive you after you literally tried to kill me?"

Marco's face softened with regret. "It was a foolish mistake. One that won't happen again. If there's anything I can do to make amends, tell me."

Cara arched an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Alright, big man. I don't have anything for you to do right now, but when I do, I hope you'll be willing to do whatever I ask. Anything. No questions asked."

Marco smiled, his confidence returning. "Any day, any time."

Cara chuckled. "Oh, you think I'm going to ask you for something sexual? Boy, calm down. What I'm going to ask of you will be the least sexual thing you can imagine."

Marco's smile faltered, uncertainty creeping across his face. Cara smirked and walked away with Farrah, leaving him standing there, visibly unsettled.

[What plans do you have for him?]

'I don't know yet, but I have this gut-feeling that he is going to be a very useful tool for me in the future.'

—-

—-

That evening at the diner, Cara found herself in Jackie's office, their lips locked in a passionate kiss as they stood pressed together beside Jackie's desk. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of the overhead light and the occasional murmur of activity from the diner outside.

When they finally pulled away, Cara gently caressed Jackie's cheek, her fingers brushing against the faint warmth of her skin. She gazed into Jackie's striking green eyes and asked softly, "Did you, by any chance, come to the woods near the diner last night?"

Jackie hesitated, her gaze dropping as she looked away. "No," she said, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her. "I wasn't in the woods last night. What would I even be doing there?"

*Man, you're terrible at lying,* Cara thought to herself, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Saving me, perhaps?" she teased, her tone light but probing.

Jackie stiffened, brushing past Cara toward her chair. "Saving you from what?" she asked, sitting down and pretending to focus on the documents spread across her desk.

"From the Scott brothers," Cara said, leaning casually against the desk. "But I get it—you don't want to admit it. That's fine. I just wanted to say thank you."

Jackie didn't respond, her attention seemingly glued to her paperwork. Cara straightened and turned to leave, but Jackie's voice stopped her.

"Whatever you think you've uncovered about me," Jackie said without looking up, "it cannot leave this office. I'm begging you. You can't talk about it, write about it—nothing. Please."

Cara paused in the doorway, turning back to meet Jackie's anxious gaze. "Your secret is safe with me," she said simply, her tone sincere. Then, she left the office, stepping into the bustle of the diner.

The warm scent of fried chicken wafted through the air as Cara glanced toward the kitchen. Farrah was at the deep fryer, focused on cooking, the golden crust of the chicken sizzling in the oil. Cara shook her head and muttered under her breath, "I could eat that right now."

Just then, Lisa walked past her. Cara's gaze lingered for a moment as she tried to read Lisa's mind—a habit she'd grown used to—but she found it unusually difficult, as if there was some kind of block. It puzzled her; she'd been able to read Lisa's thoughts before.

'Why can't I read her mind today?'

[Look closely. She's wearing a silver necklace. Silver weakens your abilities, remember?]

'Silver?' Cara's eyes narrowed as she noticed the small, glinting chain around Lisa's neck. 'I didn't realize she was wearing that.'

Lisa called her name, interrupting her thoughts. Cara walked over, meeting her near the kitchen door. "We need to bring some produce in from the store outside," Lisa said. "Since you're the only one not busy, let's go."

Cara nodded, seeing no reason to object. She followed Lisa past the kitchen, where Farrah remained oblivious, focused entirely on the fryer.

Lisa led the way to the storage area, unlocking the door. As they stepped inside, Cara felt a sudden, prickling sensation on the back of her neck, like someone was watching her. She turned sharply, but there was no one there.

Lisa began pulling sacks of potatoes and onions from the shelves, but Cara couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Lisa seemed nervous, her movements hurried and clumsy. Cara tried to read her mind again, but the silver necklace made it impossible.

Suddenly, Lisa's grip on the sack of potatoes slipped, sending them tumbling to the ground. Cara crouched to help pick them up, but before she could even reach for the first one, she felt something cold and heavy slam around her body.

A thick silver chain wrapped tightly around her torso, its weight instantly sapping her strength. She looked up in alarm to see Victor Scott standing over her, a smug grin on his face.

"My brother told me about your little secret," Victor sneered. "Now let's see how powerful you are with silver chaining you down."

Before Cara could react, Victor's fist connected with her face. The blow was brutal, sending her head snapping back. He hit her again and again, each punch leaving her weaker and more bloodied.

"Hey, stop," Lisa said sharply, her voice cold. "You can't kill her here. Take her into the woods and do whatever you want with her there. She's not human anyway. Just make sure she's dead and buried—we don't need to go to prison over some non-human bitch."

Victor wiped the blood off his knuckles and chuckled darkly. "You're right. Thanks for your help."

"Anytime," Lisa said, stepping aside.

Victor hoisted Cara's limp body onto his shoulder, the silver chains biting into her skin. With a satisfied grin, he carried her out of the storage room and into the night, heading for the woods.

'Hagrit,' Cara thought desperately, her mind reaching for her unseen ally. 'Is this it? Is this the end?'

[I don't know,] Hagrit replied, his voice grim.