Page 49 of A Moth to the Flame (Utopia #1)

Chapter

Thirty-Five

CORDELIA

We land on solid ground in a rush of wind so fierce that I cling tighter to Duke. I don’t want my own smaller body to get sucked away by the strangely beautiful darkness that’s held us captive for God only knows how long. It felt like minutes, but it might have been hours. Or days.

All the stories I’ve ever read about faekind always had one thing in common—never trust your senses when they’re involved. As soon as we find our feet, snakes of shadow slither away until I’m blinking in dappled moonlight.

In the few moments it takes to orient myself, several loud crashes sound from nearby. The front of Granny’s house comes into focus. The door is closed, but all the lights are on. The noise from inside is a solid indicator that someone’s fucking my shit up real good while I’m not there to stop them.

I take one step toward the mayhem, and a strong hand wraps around my elbow. I glance over Duke’s shoulder to find him reaching for his other arm like he’s going to try to stop me, too .

He glares at where Wallace’s hand remains. “Cordie, no. You have no idea who’s in there or what…powers they might have.”

That’s a fair point. Just because I’m in Duke’s more powerful half-fae body doesn’t mean I have a full roster of magical creatures that currently reside in Utopia.

So far, we only know of fae, familiars, and witches.

Duke said the fortune teller was really a selkie.

There could be more. I’m not ruling anything out, since I never knew the reality that was lurking beneath the surface for my whole life.

My grandmother was an actual witch, not just in the smalltown rumor mill. I’m a witch.

I still haven’t had time to really come to terms with all that.

Wallace drops his hold on me when Duke begins to snarl like an animal. He holds his hands up in a placating gesture. “Witches are inside, two. Neveah and Hope. They will not harm you.”

That confirms what Duke said about Neveah. But Hope? Sweet, quiet, little Hope?

I’d love to say that’s impossible, but I’m running low on the ability to make that claim about anything anymore.

The guy who I used to loathe with every fiber of my being, the one who makes me feel all warm and tingly inside now, the one who I had actual, amazing sex with while he’s inhabiting my body, turns toward Wallace.

“Bullshit. Everyone in this damned town ignored Cordie for most of her life, and I think those fucking witches are behind it. What are they looking for in there?”

Be careful , I warn. Even if he answers you, we can’t trust anything he says without a bargain in place.

Duke nods subtly.

Wallace sighs. “They are searching for your grandmother’s library.”

“What do you mean, searching for it?” Duke scrunches my face. “The huge bookshelf is out in the open in the sitting room. They can’t miss it.”

“I would venture to guess that is a decoy for the true library,” Wallace says.

Duke narrows my eyes. “You don’t know for sure?”

“I have not stepped foot inside this home in—” Wallace cuts his gaze toward me. “Twenty-nine years. ”

I shriek when my body flies by me, and Duke tackles Wallace to the ground. He straddles Wallace’s stomach, wraps my hands around his throat, and squeezes .

“Did you do this to her, you sick fuck?” he grinds out. “Did you steal her powers and turn her cat into a clock? Not so tough without your dick out, now, are ya?”

It takes all the effort of Duke’s considerable muscles to haul my rage-driven body off Wallace’s prone one. It doesn’t escape my notice that Wallace doesn’t fight back.

What are you doing? I hiss. He could kill us both in the blink of an eye!

I could’ve killed him first. Why did you stop me?

Wallace interrupts our argument. “How did you do that?”

He’s still sprawled on the ground, wheezing and touching his throat where Duke left distinct handprints. Instead of burning us to ash, Wallace stares at Duke with wide eyes.

Duke stands in that whole male fighting stance that looks out of place on my body, then cracks my neck to either side. “It was easy without your bat wings in the way.”

Wallace sits up and flicks his gaze between us. “Bat wings?”

I step toward Duke, preparing to fight or flee. If we’re really lucky, maybe I can still access that lightning power. Such a shame that’s not mine to keep. “Don’t you remember meeting us in your…other form?”

His expression turns decidedly worried. “Describe this so-called other form for me.”

Duke and I exchange a wary glance.

I might have been wrong about Wallace being Mothman. Which means we’re dealing with more magical creatures than we know about , I guess.

Duke sums up what we saw. “I’m gonna have recurring nightmares about that disfigured dick taking out one of my eyes, by the way.”

He doesn’t apologize for the strangling or the mistaken identity.

“You really need to get over the penis envy,” I advise him.

He shudders. “Why would I be jealous of that crotch monster?”

I distinctly remember him grumbling something about me drooling over that monster cock more than his.

Wallace groans as he rises to his feet. “Did he communicate with you in any way? ”

“Not in any way we could understand,” I admit.

“That’s not entirely true.” Duke shakes my head. “He put her under some kind of spell. It was like she couldn’t control herself. She left the safety of the truck and went straight for him. Said she was convinced that he wanted to help us.”

Wallace nods without looking at either of us, seeming to work out something out in the privacy of his own mind. He doesn’t share whatever conclusion he reaches before addressing me directly. “You must invite me inside.”

I cross Duke’s muscular arms over his chest, feeling less sure than ever about my magical creature knowledge. “What? Like a vampire?”

Maybe I was wrong about him being fae.

“That is simply one of many names that my kind are called,” he admits with a tip of his head.

Duke swallows so harshly that it makes a sound. “Listen, buddy, I’ve never had a taste for blood in my entire life.” He swallows again, then stares at me with wide eyes.

What’s that look for?

He shakes his head and declines to answer, stepping away from me instead.

Wallace appears equally confused by Duke’s reaction. “Did neither of you feed while stowed safely away in my pocket realm?”

What the hell is a pocket realm?

“Feed on what ?” Duke chokes out.

“Cordelia experienced a power burnout during the animal melee,” Wallace explains.

“That is why she fell unconscious. The only way to replenish is to receive the essence of another. Preferably, another magical creature. I assumed that you heeded my advice to trust your instincts.” He studies me curiously.

“How are you awake if there was no power exchange between you?”

Neither Duke nor I say a word. What happened between us is no one else’s business.

“Ah,” Wallace breathes like he knows everything we don’t say.

“I see. My apologies. I should not have assumed anything. You are both young, untested, and ignorant of your true natures. I’ll admit that most of what I know about the intricacies of mating bonds are somewhat anecdotal. They are exceedingly rare.”

Neither his apology nor his explanation makes me feel any better.

Cordie , Duke whispers. He sounds as sick as I feel. What do we do now?

I don’t know.

I’d love nothing more than to curl into a ball on the ground and cry myself out of this nightmare, but that seems less and less like an option.

No matter what I do, I only fall further into it.

I might have spent half of my lonely life escaping into stories rife with magic and romance, but I’m nowhere near prepared to navigate a reality where even supposedly powerful beings don’t have all the answers.

I startle at the feel of a warm hand sliding our fingers together.

Here’s the plan, Gingersnap , Duke murmurs. We need more information. They have it. We’re going to stick together, play dumb, and let them talk. It’ll be all right. We’ll figure it out.

I choke on a watery laugh. I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to Duke Castellaw playing the part of the heroic voice of reason. But I don’t hate it.

He takes a deep breath. “Come on in, Wallace. Let’s go see what the witches are up to.”

Wallace winces. “As I said, these are unprecedented times. I may need more than either of your verbal permission.”

Duke snorts. “You want us to hold your hands and walk you in?”

He nods, and he doesn’t look pleased about it.

Could this be a trick? Duke asks me.

I’m not sure I’m the person you should be asking anymore. I’ve gotten everything wrong, except the confirmation that I was the one who got us into this mess in the first place.

Chin up, Gingersnap. It’s not all bad news. My body came so hard earlier that it woke you up from a coma.

I don’t know why he phrased it that way, but it makes me laugh all the same.

It could just be that Duke and I are slap-happy after everything that’s happened, or because of everything we’re about to walk into .

“While I’m pleased that you remain in good spirits, we really must get on with this,” Wallace mutters.

Duke and I grab onto each of Wallace’s outstretched hands and practically drag him toward the house. He tenses just before some sort of invisible barrier puts up a noticeable resistance—only on him. Duke and I are unaffected, as we have been for the past month of coming and going.

“What was that?” Duke grits out. He tugs with all my might, and the barrier finally gives way, releasing Wallace.

“A very powerful warding spell.” Wallace gives a full-body shudder. “Your grandmother took no chances with your safety when you were at your most vulnerable.”

I’m not so sure about that. “I was plenty vulnerable in town and at school,” I say.

Duke doesn’t appear ashamed this time at the mention of his past abuse. The expression on my face looks downright enraged.

Wallace drops our hands as we walk easily up the front steps to the porch. “If you’re awake, then you can fight. Your grandmother understood all too well the mistake of complacency in a place of refuge. Even the most extraordinary witches are vulnerable in sleep.”

I’m not sure if he’s implying that Granny wasn’t complicit in my lifelong torture. I’m not sure whether I’d believe him, even if he gave me a straight answer.

Wallace pauses with his hand on the doorknob.

“I understand that you both must have many questions. Unfortunately, this is not the time for answers. If you care to take my advice, then I suggest you focus on getting back into your correct bodies and request the explanations that are owed to you at a later, safer date.”

I’m tempted to pick apart his word choices for any potential trickery, but he pushes the front door open.

To an absolute disaster.

All the carefully curated piles of junk have been scattered across any available surface—the coffee table, the side tables, the couch.

The furniture has been pushed out of place.

They tore the blanket and cushion off Granny’s beloved armchair.

The floor is littered with every book from the now-empty shelf.

Curtains have been pulled off the rods. The sword that intrigued Duke is currently in Neveah’s hands.

She points it in various directions around the destroyed room, while Hope smooths her palms against the old hardwood floor as if she’s feeling for a loose board.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Duke roars.

At any other time, I might be impressed to hear my voice boom like an alpha male, but I can’t stop staring at the childhood home that used to feel like my only sanctuary.

At least Duke is defending my territory instead of stabbing me in the back—unlike the women who I thought might finally want to be my friends. So much for better late than never.

I glance past the sitting room and through the kitchen doorway.

All the cupboards are open, their contents taking up every inch of the countertops, the table, the chairs.

Clothes are strewn along the hallway. I can’t see their invasion of privacy from here, but it’s obvious that they gave the bedrooms and bathroom the same treatment.

I spy an old diary of mine and my spare vibrator sitting atop a pile of my underwear.

Seeing those personal items out in the open like unimportant trash feels pretty close to being run through by that sword.

I tremble from head to toe in Duke’s body. Hot tears streak down his cheeks. Granny said that I should never show weakness, so I didn’t. No time like the present to try something new if I want a different outcome than what was shoved up my ass without any lube in the past.

Duke elbows Wallace out of the way, wrapping my arms around his waist. Shh, it’s okay. Don’t cry, Gingersnap. I’ll clean it all up.

I shake harder.

You want me to kill them? I’ll kill them all. Hell, you can do it. Use my power while you’ve got it, honey. It’s all yours.

Neveah points the sword straight at me. “Where’s the library, Delia? The real one.”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stutter.

Hope rolls her eyes. “Don’t play stupid. We know the shrouding spell is broken. Have you been lying to us ever since you got back to town? Pretending that your granny never told you to keep the library from us?”

“What’s a shrouding spell?” I ask as meekly as Duke’s deep voice can possibly sound. “Who’s us?”

Duke subtly squeezes his waist. Out of the corner of his eye, I watch my mouth twitch like he’s fighting a grin.

I think I just fell in love with you, he says.