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Merde. “How did you find us?”

“I sensed a tidal wave through my Baggers and monitored the area. One of my scouts spotted you passing, so I had him and others trace your route. When you overnighted in this cave, they placed a Bagger head under your truck. A tracker of sorts.”

“A head? For Christ’s sake, Sol.” I narrowed my gaze. “You knew we were on our way to Richter’s the whole time.”

He shrugged. “I use the powers I have. How do you think I know so much about Richter? I stashed a head in the attic above his room.”

The sheer creepiness . . . But then, Evie got downright eerie when she went full red witch. “Dominija’s not goan to like you knowing about his stronghold.”

“The important thing is that I haven’t told our enemies.” His smile turned playful. “Not about the castle—and not about el bebé.”

12

The Empress

I sat on the bed reading a months-long text exchange between the two men I loved.

In the earliest messages, Aric had been businesslike as he’d updated Jack about my contact with Matthew, my pregnancy, and Lark’s troubling behavior. Jack had been just as formal in his own updates.

But over time, he and Aric had relaxed with each other, sounding less like the rivals they’d been and more like friends.

The night Kentarch had returned from Africa, Jack had written: Wasn’t sure he’d come back, so we’re feeling downright festive around here.

Dominija: I assume you’re drunk right now.

Jack: Heh. How’s my girl?

Dominija: Settling into life here again. Still believing she can cook.

I had to grin.

Jack: I can read between the lines. So you two are back.

Dominija: No. But I’ve hope. Oh, Aric. In any case, just spending this time with her is a gift.

Jack: Ouais. It’d be heaven.

Dominija: You are drunk.

Jack: You have no idea.

Dominija: If someone told me a year ago that I would be texting with my worst enemy late into the night, I would have decapitated him for lying.

Jack: You and those swords.

The next day Aric had written early: Ah, mortal, I wish I could bang cymbals beside your head.

Jack: Beck moi tchew, Reaper. Bite my ass.

With each word, I fell a little more in love with both of them, and I couldn’t help but smile at their back-and-forth about Joules:

Dominija: Update on Calanthe’s chronicles?

Jack: Joules is a tad reluctant. “That big feckin’ book is hidden away from the likes of Death. I’d rather set it on fire, then shite on the ashes than to hand it over to the Grim Reaper.”

Dominija: The Tower. Always sugarcoating.

Jack: Wish he’d just say what’s on his mind.

The progression of their messages made my eyes water. They’d begun to trust each other, sharing more. Yet then I read a text that made my claws tingle.

Jack: Fork in the road. Louisiana or Richter’s trail. We voted to do recon on the Emperor. If we find him, we get this done faster.

Aric hadn’t told me they’d uncovered a lead on Richter!

Dominija: My plan is sound. Follow it.

What? When I’d asked Aric a couple of months ago if he had a plan, he’d answered vaguely, “I don’t have a good one.”

Jack: We will follow it—just not with you. Kentarch will teleport for your armor when we get a twenty on Richter.

Why would Jack want Aric’s armor? He’d told me he hated wearing it. Suspicion stole through me.

Dominija: I still must take a bow. The game demands it. Unless we learn otherwise, we have to assume only one Arcana can live.

The phone shook in my hand. I’d just gotten Aric back from the Hanged Man; I couldn’t lose him again! The words blurred, but I forced myself to read on.

Jack: You don’t have an expiration date. This game might stretch out for years. We can buy you enough time to get to know your son.

Dominija: If you want my armor, I come with it. No discussion. In any case, you do need me. There’s Zara to contend with as well. By now, she is possibly the most dangerous player ever to have lived.

Jack: Stubborn ass. You’re not the only one who can hitch a ride with Kentarch.

Hitch a ride? I didn’t understand exactly what the plan was, just knew Aric sounded bent on some kind of one-way-ticket scenario—even though he’d assured me we would try to survive together.

My glyphs blazed with my fury. So much for us being a team, for finding a way to defeat our enemies and the game on our own terms.

Then I read the last text from Aric to Jack: You must stay alive. I need you to take care of my family.

Take care of my family. Take care . . . take care . . .

I sat trembling, the scent of roses filling the air. I had no idea how much time passed before Aric entered the room, back from training.