The Dread Descendant (The Dread Descendant, #1)

by Lauren Cate Leake

“Eavesdropping?” Her father questioned. Maeve shook her head and remained looking out over the lush gardens at Sinclair Estates. “Doesn’t really count as eavesdropping if I was here first and you held your conversation on the other side of an open door.”

Spinel stretched in his sleep in her lap, curling his paws tightly across his face.

arguably the cutest thing a cat can do

His voice was barely above a whisper as he said, “Such a deadly weapon to be so soft.”

He gave her a slow nod of approval. He was subtly smirking and politely applauding. His behavior was in complete juxtaposition to Abraxas, who was losing his mind with joy. He and Hendrix Fawley were jumping up and down, their fists in the air.

“There’s nothing,” she began to insist once more. “He’s looking at you.” Her head snapped up. But Abraxas was a dirty liar. And Mal was not so much as glancing her way. He was listening intently to Hendrix. Abraxas grinned. “Nothing, cousin?” Maeve exhaled, long and tight. “I’m in over my head aren’t I?” Abraxas shook his head slowly and grinned. “You have no idea. Go on, ask me if he talks about you.”

“Have fun at your little boys’ club last night?” Maeve asked Mal, feigning a smile as he sat opposite her in the library. Mal smirked back. “We talked about you, actually, Sinclair.” “Oh?” “Yes. I believe Larliesl called you ‘a waste in Practical Magic.’ That you belonged fighting and dueling.” Maeve frowned at the satisfied look on Mal’s face. “I took up for you, though.” “Right,” laughed Maeve, dipping her quill in her inkwell. “I told him you weren’t a waste in anything.”

Mal leaned towards her, his lips close to her ear. “Perhaps that’s what I should refer to you as,” whispered Mal, “little viper.”

Lavinia swore rather loudly upon defeat, for which Larliesl took ten merits from her. And then an extra five when it occurred to him that she was Head Girl.

and ANOTHUH THENG

Maeve wrote McKenzie a detention. When she turned her back, Tyler punched him in the face. Maeve whipped around. “Did you just punch him?” McKenzie’s nose was bleeding heavily. The boys around were covering their mouths to keep from laughing. “He deserved it for pushing me,” said Tyler, trying to wring out his soaked sweater. Maeve was astonished. “Yes, he did.”

Spinel kept packing himself in Maeve’s trunk, even though Maeve removed him many times and assured him he wouldn’t be left behind. A

Spinel was asleep on his back, sunbathing by the windows.

He looked to be in his thirties. But Immortals were gifted eternal beauty. They stopped aging in their second or third decades. “I think I may faint,” said Abraxas. Reeve and Ambrose embraced happily. “That may be the most attractive man I’ve ever seen,” Abraxas said under his breath.

Maeve smiled. “Best of luck, Mr. Peur.” “Come and watch.” Maeve shook her head. “That sounds terribly boring,” Mal reached out and ran his fingers across his ring that draped across her chest. His fingers hooked around the chain and tugged her close to where he leaned in the doorway. His mouth hung open. “I didn’t ask,” he said with a raised brow. Maeve attended without complaint.

Arianna appeared and snapped her fingers for Maeve’s attention. “Mother wants you to come inside for the cake cutting,” said Arianna. “Why,” grimaced Maeve, laughing. “That sounds terribly boring.” “As the women of Sacred in the Sinclair household-” started Arianna, but Maeve cut her off. “Yeah, not going.”

Abraxas appeared at her side, looping his arm through hers. “What about this first year could be so interesting, cousin?” “Shut up, Brax.” Belvadora looked Abraxas up and down, slowly and meticulously. Abraxas’ expression shifted to one of interest. “Well, well,” he said lowly. “Suddenly I’m intrigued.” Belvadora didn’t miss a beat. “From what I have heard, I’m not your type.” Abraxas smirked. “Darling, everyone is my type.”

Belvadora was walking in the opposite direction as Abraxas watched her. Mal looked back and raised his brows. “Flavor of the week?” “Eventually he has to actually fall for someone,” said Maeve under her breath. “Maybe it’s her.” Mal shook his head. “It’s not her.”

Hummingdoor appeared next to their table. “I trust you’ve all had a marvelous night?” Asked the Alchemy Master drunkenly. Larliesl appeared at Hummingdoor’s side and took his glass from him.

Abraxas took a seat across from her without speaking. They sat silently until Abraxas could stand it no longer, and he inhaled to speak. “No,” said Maeve. “We’re not talking about it.” Abraxas let out a loud sigh. “I wasn’t even going to.” Maeve eyed him and returned to her writing. Abraxas crossed his legs one way and then the other way. He fiddled with his fingers and played with a groove in the mahogany table, sighing a few times. “Sweet Seven Realms, what is it?” Asked Maeve. “You’re in knots.” “What did you and Mal talk about after the party?” Asked Abraxas hurriedly. “I knew it! I knew that’s all you wanted to talk about. You’re so nosey.”

“You want to be in the limelight with him.” “Yes,” admitted Maeve, playing with his ring around her neck. “Did we go to the same Summer Solstice Party or not?” “What?” Abraxas shook his head with a laugh. “And you’re supposed to be the cleverest of us all.” Maeve snatched Spinel away from him and walked away. “Everyone needs to stop saying that,” she muttered to Spinel.

“You look terrib-” started Abraxas. He winced, and his eyes went wide. “I mean, you look like you slept terribly.” Maeve sat across from him at one of the long dining tables the next morning. “Yes,” drawled Maeve. “Your second attempt was much better.”

toast on her plate. She made no move to eat them. “Couldn’t sleep?” His eyes flicked up mischievously. “I slept fine.” She said dully. “That all?” Maeve glared at him. Abraxas rolled his eyes and picked back up his fork. He speared a piece of sausage and muttered. “Clearly that is all based all your foul mood.”

“I don’t think I quite understood the meaning of your presence until I was forced to endure your absence.”

“It feels like I have known you for a lifetime, and I am only just remembering.”

“Maeve,” Abraxas came bursting into her bedroom, his voice casual. “Could you- oh dear what’s happened?” Abraxas stopped abruptly and looked about the room after seeing the distressed look on Maeve’s face. She stood in one of the large windows, looking grim. With one finger, she motioned for Abraxas and pointed down at the gardens. There was Ophelia and Mal, walking back towards the house. “That won’t do,” said Maeve. Abraxas clicked his tongue. “Poor girl,” he said darkly. “Fix my bowtie, will you?” Maeve sighed and assisted him. “Why is she even back here? They never come to these parties.” “Thank you,” chimed Abraxas as he admired himself in the mirror before following Maeve out. “Mal invited her.” Maeve stopped. She took a long inhale. Then an even longer exhale. “I’m going to wring her neck with my bare hands- not even my Magic!” Maeve hissed to Abraxas, who laughed. “It’s not funny.” “Oh it most certainly is, cousin.”

“Gods.,” he said. “Look at that.” “What?” Maeve followed his gaze over to the garden stairs where her father was walking down with an incredibly well-dressed blonde young man. His face was long, his ears were tipped to a small point. She recognized him. He sat behind Lithandrian at their meeting. “Who is that?” Asked Maeve in amazement. He was Elven. Dressed in the finest cream satin formal wear. Abraxas nearly choked on his drink. “Amaranthine Maeve Sinclair. I have failed you.”

“Primus and the Gods,” whispered Abraxas, his glass of brandy dropping from his lips. Maeve followed his gaze across the hall. Reeve, stood shaking hands with her father. He gave her mother’s hand a kiss. “Ugh,” said Maeve, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what the fuss is over with him.” Abraxas grimaced. “First, he’s the most powerful being alive. Second, I didn’t realize you went blind, cousin. Look at him.” “No,” said Maeve, turning back to the bar. “He’s coming this way,” said Abraxas hurriedly. “No, he’s not,” said Maeve. Abraxas pulled his drink to his lips and murmured, “Yes, he is.”

She wanted to smack herself. And then smack him. And then really smack Ophelia.

“Does your grace only extend so far?” Reeve licked his lips and leaned towards her. “I can show you exactly how far it extends.” Maeve’s mouth fell open. Abraxas’ attention flew from Hugo and his wide eyes landed on Reeve. A wicked smile at her cousin’s lips. “I find it hard to believe such crass words have warmed your bed for the last hundred years,” said Maeve. “Why don’t you tell me in the morning?” He was so bold, so brazen, so ridiculous, that she laughed.

“Don’t play the game if you’re going to get your feelings hurt,” said Reeve. “I will always win. I have centuries of a perfected quick wit.” “More like you’re a perfected prick,” muttered Maeve. “I have that too,” said Reeve with a wink. “Set yourself up for that one, cousin,” said Abraxas. Reeve smiled at him cunningly. Abraxas blushed. “Fine,” she said. “I yield.”

“Lover’s spat?” Maeve licked across her teeth and didn’t look over at the High Lord of Aterna as he leaned against the bar. “Have you ever considered minding your own business?” “Unfortunately, it is absolutely my business what the second and third most powerful beings are doing.” Maeve glared at him. Reeve smiled as he said, savoring the insult, “You’re third.”

“You are in a fine form tonight if I must say so, kitten.” Maeve slammed her crystal goblet into the bar sharply and she turned towards him. “Don’t call me that.” Reeve’s eyes traced over her face and his head cocked to one side. “Then how will I provoke you?” “I am certain you’ll find a way.”

“So,” said Agatha in a business-like voice. “I hear you nearly died.” “Which time?” Asked Maeve, with the hint of a smirk on her lips.

An unmistakable cold tingle shot down her spine. She sat up with a gasp that sent Spinel running. Her heartbeat kicked loud as a drum in her ears, and her head spun for a moment. She tossed her book and went bolting for the bedroom door. Spinel was still chaotically running about.