Chapter 18 · The Blood That Should Be Dead

Aiden kicks the basement door shut and I'm breathing mold, old paper, something metallic I don't wanna name.

My legs won't stop shaking.

Cain's hand lands on my shoulder. "Easy."

"I'm fine." I'm not fine.

Rex is already prowling the room, eyes scanning shelves packed with leather-bound books and filing boxes that look like they survived a war. "Your family keeps records down here?"

Aiden doesn't answer. He's staring at a locked cabinet in the corner, jaw so tight I can see the muscle jump.

I pull away from Cain and force myself to breathe through my mouth. The air down here tastes wrong. "What kind of records?"

"The kind that explain why your mother ran." Aiden crosses to the cabinet, drops to one knee, and pulls a key from under a loose floorboard. His hands don't shake but everything else about him does. "The kind I should've shown you three years ago."

Cain moves beside me. Close. Close enough I feel the heat rolling off him. "You knew."

"I knew some of it." Aiden unlocks the cabinet and the hinges scream. He pulls out a thick journal, leather so dark it's almost black. "I didn't know all of it.