Page 42 of A Moth to the Flame (Utopia #1)

Chapter

Thirty

DUKE

Cordie doesn’t flinch when a doe bounds past, dangerously close to us. I’m ready to wave the white flag and let Neveah help carry her when a shock of black fur darts between our feet.

The cat hisses at me, because of course it does. “What have you done now?”

“Nothing,” I swear. I’m not the one who bloodied her up, at least. The smell of my own blood makes my mouth water, but that’s a level of crazy I don’t have time for. “You got any options for getting her out of here?”

I don’t know how his magic works or what kind he has. I barely understand whatever power Cordie unlocked. Aren’t witches supposed to cast spells over bubbling cauldrons? She’s way more powerful than that.

My body slumps against hers like dead weight. That scares me so much that it’s a miracle I’m still holding her up. Her body is not this strong.

Cornelius glances around, then stares up at me and Cordie. He looks way too human, studying everything like I do when I’m trying to work out a puzzle. His head swivels toward Neveah, and he hisses at her, too. “Witch.”

Well, there’s a confirmation of my number one suspect.

She takes a healthy step back. “Familiar?”

He nods. “Is the coven aware?”

“Not yet,” she hedges. “We’re running out of time, though. Granny Betty told me to get them out while we have a good distraction. No one realizes they’ve switched bodies.”

His whiskers twitch, and then he places a clawless paw on my leg. It’s almost like he’s petting Cordie instead of the other way around. “My apologies in advance, love, but this situation requires more aid than I’m capable of rendering.”

I don’t have time to figure out what the fuck that means before he says something in a language that I don’t know.

Seconds later, Wallace appears out of nowhere.

I haven’t seen him in the fray so far, but I’ve been kind of busy fending off every animal in the damn woods while clocking Cordie’s every move.

It didn’t surprise me that she crawled to Betty Lou, not after I learned that she’s the one who rescued Cordie the night I supposedly stood her up.

Wallace looks sweaty and annoyed, like he’s been here fighting the whole time.

He frowns at the scene. “Neveah, as I’m sure you can imagine, I’m a little busy at the moment.”

She shakes her head. “I didn’t summon you.”

“Duke?” he swivels his gaze toward me with obvious surprise.

“Not me,” I guess, then gesture with my chin toward the cat. “He did, I think.”

Wallace crouches down to get closer to the furball. “Ah, you must be Cordelia’s familiar. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. What can I do for you?”

The cat rolls its eyes. “Save the pleasantries for those who aren’t immune to your charms. I would not have summoned you if it wasn’t necessary. I request an extraction.”

The fuck are they going on about?

Wallace frowns. “It would be my pleasure to remove Cordelia from this chaos, but surely you’re aware of the price that must be paid. Are you requesting on your behalf, or hers?”

The cat shrugs its furry shoulders. “Put it on the other witch’s tab, or that of the body thief. I care not which of them pays, so long as it is done.”

Wallace tsks. “You’ve been out of play for too long, friend. A familiar is supposed to be selfless, not selfish.”

“Comical words from one of your kind. What selfless deeds have you performed today, friend?” The cat licks his paw like we have all the time in the world to negotiate.

“Hey.” I break up the love fest. “I’ll fucking pay the price now and ask questions later. I don’t know if you assholes haven’t noticed, but Cordie’s unconscious and wild animals are taking over Utopia.”

“It’s not that bad,” Wallace, Cornelius, and Neveah say in unison.

That’s fucking weird all by itself, but I’ve had my fill of weird for the day.

My brain doesn’t get the memo, because it hijacks my tongue.

“A favor for a favor,” I say without thought.

A cold shiver rolls down Cordie’s spine.

Wallace snaps upright so fast that his movements are a blur. “What do you request of me?”

Hell, If I’d known there were magic words to get him to help Cordie, I would’ve used them the night I asked him for a loan.

I barely notice Neveah and Cornelius shouting, “No!”

“Help me, help her.” I repeat the same thing I asked of him in his bar. The rest of the world seems fuzzy, and the words are the only things that are as solid as my own body slumped over me.

Wallace gives me a look that I can’t translate. “We have an accord.”

Pain slices into Cordie’s leg. Cornelius has embedded his claws into her skin, like he’s trying to hold me in place.

All the breath whooshes from her lungs. I clutch onto her for dear life as reality slides away.

The town square, the animals, the people around us fade into nothing but inky blackness as a fierce wind whips at me and Cordie from all sides.

Terror grips me, then that fades away, too, as the darkness shimmers with thousands of tiny gold lights.

I don’t know if it’s glitter or stars or what’s happening as the wind calms, but I feel… good. Happy.

“Cordie,” I whisper. “Look. It’s beautiful.”

She doesn’t respond, so I hold onto her tighter. I want to remember all this to tell her about later. This must be like something out of the books she used to read.

A voice that sounds like Wallace whispers on the breeze, “You’re safe for now, dear boy. Do not waste this gift. It is a privilege that precious few are blessed with. Leave your doubts behind and trust your instincts. You will both know what to do.”

I have no idea what that means, but I don’t really care. I’m floating on a cloud of bliss, and Cordie’s safe. That’s all that matters.

A bright burst of white light blinds me. When I can see again, a room with walls that look like the inside of a cave come into view. Candlelight flickers along damp, sparkly rock. A couple of ornate chests of drawers line the perimeter of the room. They’re etched in gold and look expensive, old.

The best part is the bed that Cordie and I are lying on. It’s covered in the warmest, softest fur that I’ve ever felt on my ass.

That’s how I register that I’m naked.

I roll my head to where Cordie’s sprawled out beside me. She’s naked, too, but still in my body.

Huh. She wasn’t lying when she said that my dick’s always hard. She’s passed out, but my cock stands at attention. One part of me is definitely awake.

It takes all my willpower to shake off the high that makes me want to take my own body for a test drive. There’s still a whole lot of shit that isn’t adding up.

I have no idea where we are or how we got here, or where our clothes went.

I sit up and check Cordie’s leg where Cornelius sank his claws into her. That furry little bastard is a shit familiar. For as much as he told me she was no longer my concern, he keeps proving that she’s not his either.

But no matter how I twist and turn it, I can’t find a single mark on her perfect leg .

That’s fucking weird. I remember the pain. Sort of. Everything still feels hazy and way too good to be real, so I check my body next.

The last time I looked at my own face, blood was dripping down my chin. Cordie sleeps through me prying open my mouth. No blood. No visible wounds.

Odd.

I flop back down onto the bed and try my damnedest to take stock of what I know. What I remember.

It’s no good. My brain swims like I drank a whole jar of moonshine, straight.

I close my eyes—Cordie’s eyes—and just breathe.

Wallace said to trust my instincts. Not sure I can trust Wallace.

Not sure who the hell to trust anymore.

Except Cordie. The woman who confessed just how sad her life has been to get me to open up, to ease my own pain. After everything I’ve done to her, she didn’t abandon me in my time of need. I’m not going to quit on her either.

That doesn’t mean I don’t need a little help.

I fumble her hand across the fur until I find mine. I link our fingers together and squeeze.

“Gingersnap,” I rasp. Her tongue feels drier than cracked dirt. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m too stupid to figure this shit out on my own. All I know is that we’re in a cave somewhere.”

She can’t hear me, and I can’t just lie here and do nothing. I grit her teeth and haul her fine ass off the bed to take stock of our surroundings again.

Rock walls. A couple of dressers. A giant, fur-covered bed. Lots of candles. Naked me; naked Cordie.

Fuck.

Think, Duke.

What would Cordie do?

Not the Cordie of the past, who took what was handed to her without fighting back.

The Cordie of now. The one who spoke up for herself the night of her Granny’s wake.

The one who shoved me away, poured out the liquor I bought her, and egged my truck.

The one who finally found her tongue, found her spine.

The one who’s read hundreds of books that I’ll never be able to read.

Find an escape route. Just like I escaped to college and then to Charleston.

I swear I hear the idea in her voice.

I don’t care how or why, I follow orders.

I flatten her hands against the wall closest to me, then follow it the whole way around the room.

Nothing. No hidden hallway, no secret doorway, no break in the shimmery, golden stone.

Did you find anything?

I startle when I realize I’m not imagining her voice in my head at all.

Cordie? Fuck, is that you?

It’s me. I think so, at least.

Are you okay?

There’s a long pause that makes her skin break out in a cold sweat. She hasn’t moved from where she’s sprawled on the bed with my eyes closed. This is very different from the fantasies I usually have about Cordie, and not just because she’s the one with the hard dick.

Her knees buckle with relief when I hear her voice again. Not really, no.

Cancel the relief. I cross the room quickly and kneel on the bed beside her. No matter how deeply I massage my muscles, she doesn’t so much as flinch. Can you feel this?

Yeah. Her voice—her voice, not mine—sounds raspy in my head. But I can’t move. My mind is awake, but your body won’t budge.

Fuck. Cordie, I don’t know what to do. How do I help you?

I don’t know either. Her voice breaks, and so does my heart.

How are you talking to me if you—my body is asleep? Is this one of the powers you didn’t know you had?

I don’t know that either. I never knew I had any kind of powers to begin with. There are definite tears in her voice, though my face stays dry. What’s happening to me, Duke? Why can’t I wake up? How am I talking to you telepathically? Am I a witch like Granny?

She spews out the questions rapid-fire as her voice grows more and more panicked .

I don’t have all the answers, but I know a few things, assuming I can trust a fucking cat clock with a stupid name who’s shitty at his job. I’m done keeping secrets from Cordie. She doesn’t deserve any of the shit that’s happened to her. Her life can’t be in any more danger than it is now.

I pick up my hand and make long, slow strokes over my skin. Then, I tell her exactly what happened to her cat clock. And everything it told me.