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“Perhaps we can force him to discover it.” Swallowing hard, I straighten my shoulders and say, “I might have an idea.”

Chapter Forty-One

Two Huntsmen, Three Witches, and Four Vampires Walk into a Grotto

Raised voices echo through the grotto when we slip through the trapdoor an hour later—familiar voices,angryones—and though I dart down the stairs toward them, Michal catches my hand, pulling me back for one last scorching kiss. When we break apart a moment later, he says, “It sounds like my bedroom will be occupied for the foreseeable future.”

Sure enough, a veritable crowd of people have gathered at the foot of the stairs: Odessa and Dimitri, yes, but also Lou, Reid, and—Mathilde. My heart leaps at the sight of her.She survived.

Theyallsurvived.

Although, right now, Mathilde seems likely to roast her granddaughter on a spit.

“—without even an invitation.” Looking harassed, Lou waves a crooked dagger in Mathilde’s face. Blood drips from the blade—fresh, by the smell—and also spatters across her nightgown, which is just Reid’s overlarge shirt. Wearing nothing else and with her hair in a braid, she clearly wasn’t expecting an impromptu trip to Requiem. Moreover, it looks like Mathilde just pulled her from some sort ofattack. “You can’t just tear through my house and take us all hostage—”

Mathilde bats the dagger aside with a gnarled hand, flickingblood onto Dimitri’s shoes. He looks down at it with a pained expression. “I saved your ungrateful skin,” she snarls. “Those revenants would’veeatenyou if I hadn’t showed up when I did, so you can repay the favor now by protectingmine.”

Lou’s mouth parts incredulously. “We didn’taskfor you to help us. We don’t evenknowyou—”

“An intentional decision on my part, I can assure you.” Mathilde crosses her arms with a beleaguered harrumph. “And one I instantly regret reversing. You are adreadfulgrandchild.”

Lou spots me on the stairs then, pushing past Mathilde with a fierce scowl. “Thereyou are. Thank the gods you’re finally here—this woman is a complete and total lunatic, and coming from me, that’s really saying something. She justwaltzedinto my living room during a revenant attack—”

“A revenant attack?” I ask sharply. “In yourliving room?”

“More like an infestation.” Lou waves a dismissive hand, striving to sound unconcerned and failing miserably. “They mostly attack at nightfall, but we dealt with them—”

“Idealt with them,” Mathilde mutters.

Ignoring her, Lou speaks even louder now. “And then she started raving about Death and your sister and—”

“—and my precious collection of books! Mypricelesscollection.” Mathilde glares fiercely, though the effect is ruined somewhat by her own nightgown, a rather horrid floral creation with ruffles up to her chin. “I assume they’ve all gone now thanks to your lot. Tell me, what is thepointof possessing all these”—she gestures between us in agitation—“these supernatural abilities if you can’t even protect a helpless woman in her home?”

I halt mid-step, staring past them across the grotto to where mymother alone sits at Michal’s desk. Though exhaustion lines her face—and tears still rim her glassy, hollow eyes—that isn’t what captures my immediate attention. Because she isn’t alone at all.

Jean Luc and Brigitte stand beside her in rigid silence, their expressions torn between wariness and open hostility.

Oh God.My entire body freezes as Jean Luc locks eyes with me. After I attacked outside Chasseur Tower—after I irreparably broke the love we once shared—I never expected to see him again, let alone to see himhere. As quickly as the surprise strikes, however, it vanishes again, leaving only bone-deep sadness in its wake—sadness, and this yawning cavern between us. At least his wounds have healed; Coco’s blood must’ve performed a miracle.

I swallow hard.

Jean Luc and I never would’ve worked, but we shouldn’t have ended like this.

As if sensing my thoughts, Jean Luc breaks first, unable to look at me any longer. His eyes land on Michal instead—on our intwined hands—and harden. I cannot even blame Brigitte as she shifts in front of him, trying to block the view. To protect him.

Nor do I release Michal’s hand.

“Hello,” I say to them softly, tentatively, as Michal squeezes my fingers in encouragement.

Neither of them answer.

Clearing his throat to ease the sudden tension, Reid steps forward and says, “Jean Luc and Brigitte tracked the revenants to our house before Mathilde, er—”

“Kidnapped us,” Lou snaps. “She tore through the veil straight on top of my kitchen table, and she snatched me up in the middle of decapitating Undead Grue. Reid grabbed my arm, and Jean Lucgrabbedhisarm, and”—she waves an agitated hand—“so on and so forth. I’ve never felt sicker in mylifethan I did in the spirit realm,” she adds, shuddering. “Though this place is a close second.”

“A dreadful grandchild!” Mathilde interjects, yet her hand quivers slightly as she points it at Lou. “And a helpless woman!”

Cursing, Lou stalks to Michal’s bed before unceremoniously slumping onto it. Reid follows with an apologetic glance at Michal, who says dryly, “There is nothing helpless about you, Mathilde—and I noticeyoudidn’t stick around to chat with Death.”