When Jack turned back around, I could see in the mirror that his face was pale. “Why would you think that?” he said.

I turned slowly. I didn’t know whether they had lied about who my family was, or had bad information, or why it would change anything, but it was suddenly obvious it did. Cold moved up my spine.

“Avery.” Jack crossed the room and loomed over me. “Your eyes.” He lowered his voice to a murmur. “You don’t mean your eyes are purple, do you?”

I wished I could back away, but the door pressed into my shoulder blades. “Um. I wear contacts, but yeah. My real eye color’s a lot like Luc’s.”

Jack brought his fingers to his mouth, dropped them. Started to say something, but stopped. His Adam’s apple moved up and down with a hard swallow. “Your eyes are purple.”

I nodded. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong.

“Well.” He blinked. “That changes things.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said, “I know exactly why someone would want you dead.”

CHAPTER 15

Because they want to hurt the Dauphins?” I said. A car horn honked outside, and I jumped more than I should have. I ducked around Jack. “So I am related to them? And not the Saxons?”

“Shh.” Jack opened the door, peered into the hall, then shut it again. “No. Maybe. God. I don’t know. To them, to the Saxons, to a different family entirely . . . All I know is that you are much, much more than a distant relative.”

I swallowed hard. “But if I have the same eyes as the Dauphins . . .”

“All twelve families of the Circle have violet eyes.” He swept all the first aid supplies into the pharmacy bag and stuffed it into his pocket. “That tells us nothing.”

I leaned over the sink, staring into my eyes again. “How is that possible—”

“Have you told Stellan and Luc any of this?”

“No—”

“Okay, then. Fitz was right. You’re in danger. From a lot of people, and especially the Order. I must have misinterpreted that message. The Saxons won’t hurt you, and I’m taking you to them.” He plucked my bag off the little vanity counter where he’d set it when he’d brought it from the dressing room earlier. He handed it to me. “Let’s go.”

I hugged it to my chest. “No.” Jack stopped with one hand on the doorknob. “You need to explain exactly what’s going on,” I said.

Jack ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up, then the other way to smooth it back into place. I could tell he was trying to act normal, but he stared at me with a mix of awe and horror, like I was some dangerous mythical creature. “I’m not the one who should be telling you this. We should really just—”

“I’m not going anywhere.” I plunked my bag back down on the vanity, toppling a trio of tiny lotion bottles. “What do my eyes matter? Why would someone try to kill me? What the hell is the Circle?”

After a second, Jack bit his lip and seemed to come to a decision. “All right,” he said. “Okay. Avery, the Circle are . . . how to put this. The Circle of Twelve are important to the world. We make things happen.”

“So, politicians,” I said.

“Not exactly, no.” He paced to the window, back to the door, then to the window again, like a caged animal. “Well, most major government officials are members of one of the twelve families, yes. But—”

“Most? You rig elections?” My voice rose sharply and Jack shushed me, nodding at the door.

“No,” he said. “Well, usually we don’t have to. It’s advantageous for leaders in government, business, economics, to be ours, but most of them already are, organically.”

My shaking fingers twisted the tiny gold cap off one of the lotions, screwed it back on, twisted it back off. A warm rose scent wafted from the bottle. “Business? Economics? What does that mean?”

Jack frowned uncomfortably. “It wouldn’t be wrong to say that in our modern world, and in much of history, all roads lead back to the Circle. We’re so entwined in society—its history, its present, its future—that even though you don’t know we’re there, your life would be entirely different without us.”

I took a shaky breath and opened the next lotion. Citrus. “Like what?”

He glanced at the door again. “You know World War One, and Two?”

I raised my eyebrows at the stupid question.

“There are twelve families, and together they form the Circle of Twelve. Occasionally, a family will attempt to win more than their share of power. The Hersch family—they’re the ones currently in Germany—did just that, and it was the driving force behind World Wars One and Two.”

I paused, the lotion cap halfway off. “You did not just say the Circle started both World Wars.”

He held up a hand. “The Hersch family started both World Wars. Not everything each family does represents us as a whole.”

I set down the lotion. Having business and political leaders in the families—and even rigging elections—sounded almost plausible, but if he’d been teetering on the edge of the “makes frightening sense” cliff before, he’d just launched himself off.

“Avery!” Luc’s voice echoed up the stairs. Jack and I both froze. “We’re hungry. Are you ready to go?”

I’d forgotten Luc and Stellan were still waiting to go to dinner, of all things. I cracked the door. “Almost!” I yelled. “Give me one more minute!”

I turned slowly back to Jack. I wasn’t sure what would be worse—if he was messing with me, or if he really believed this.

“I think I’ve heard this conspiracy theory,” I said carefully. “New World Order, right? A small group of really powerful people who run the whole world behind the scenes.”

“Yes,” he said.

“So . . . you’re telling me that’s what you are.” I could hear the condescension in my voice, like I was talking to a kid playing make-believe.

“That’s exactly what we are.” He was looking at me like he wasn’t sure what I’d do, and I realized he’d gotten himself between me and the door, trapping me inside.

I ran my fingertips over the subtle damask of the wallpaper, letting it ground me in reality. “You know that’s not real, right? That’s why they call it a conspiracy theory, and not a fact.”