Page 119 of Claim Me

“That’s a handy trick,” I tell her, gesturing to the door with my chin. “I’ve never seen anything like it. How far can you go?”

“I can only create a doorway to places I’ve been,” she replies. “And before you ask, no, it can’t be replicated with magic. It’s a talent that’s tied to my spirit, similar to my aura-tracking ability.”

I nod, understanding that more now that we’ve spent the better half of a day together.

Ayla explained that the Outcast Coven witches are different from others of their kind because of their unique ties to the death plane.

“Most witches come from the witches’ world. We technically did as well, but our magic has manifested in a different way. A darker way. I guess you could say death magic infected our coven and changed how we perform spells.”

“But how?” I asked earlier. “The death plane isn’t another world.” If it were, I would know about it. Or, at the very least, a portal would exist that would allow others to visit it.

“No. It’s linked to our coven’s core—oursouls.” She shrugged. “The members of my coven possess death magic. It’s rare and feared, which is partly why we’re all outcasts.”

That much I knew. “Necromancers,” I translated. “Or that’s the rumor about your coven, anyway. You’re all necromancers.”

“Necromancy suggests that we can all control the dead.” Her black eyes met mine. “I can’t. But my powers are rooted in souls, which is a form of death.”

“And Fallon can mimic deadly sleep,” I added. “As well as disturb the dead.” Those are the spells we witnessed last year when Klas took advantage of his forced-mate’s powers.

“Fallon can do so much more than just that,” Ayla told me. “And Ishara can, too. They just need to break free of the patriarchs’ leashes.”

I asked her how to break the leash, and she shook her head. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t still be here.”

She paces around now, her movements catlike as she prowls the roof’s edge.

Most wingless beings would fear the five-story drop to the ground. But not Ayla. She’s walked the edge like this of every rooftop we’ve stood upon. Including the one in Manhattan, which was over fifty stories tall.

“That townhouse over there,” she says, pointing to the southwest. “That’s Patrick O’Neely’s family home.”

I walk up beside her to take in thefamily homeof the Outcast Coven’s perceived leader.

From what Ayla said, there are seven patriarchs. But Patrick O’Neely is considered to be the master patriarch.

He’s also the one who forced Fallon to mate-bond Klas.

And is likely the one who sent Klas to infiltrate the Gold and Garnet ranks.

Which makes him target number one, with Fallon’s father being a close second.

I’m about to ask her to point out the invisible magical security traps surrounding the home—something she’s done at our last two locations—when my phone starts to ring.

“It’s a good thing Ayla lent me some magic to charge my battery,” I say by way of greeting. “After our last call, you nearly drained—”

“She won’t wake up,” Kaspian interjects, a note of uncharacteristic panic in his voice.

“What?”

“Fallon,” he elaborates, his face appearing on the screen. “She won’t wake up.”

I walk away from the edge with Ayla right beside me, both of us focused on the screen populating the space in front of me.

Kaspian pans over to show an unconscious Fallon, her white skin a stark contrast to the obsidian marble floor beneath her.

That’s not her room,I think, recognizing Kaspian’s penchant for dark colors.

She’s naked,is my next unhelpful deduction.

Her lips are blue,is the thought that finally brings me back to the relevance of this call. “Have you tried reviving her like last time?”