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The café bustled with life around me as I waited in line to place my order. Having visited the café every day for the last week, I’d grown accustomed to the traffic pattern of customers, so it was easy enough to navigate the hoard of locals clamoring for their mid-day pick-me-up. As I waited, my gaze drifted to the counter in search of the reason for my return. While others came for the lattes and scones the size of their heads, I sought out this place for a different reason.

I had not been able to get the barista out of my head since my “date” with Corinth. And now, much like the days prior, I found myself drawn back to this place, if only to lay eyes on the man once more.

The absurdity was not lost on me. I was behaving like some love-struck school whelp. And yet, there I stood. Waiting to spend a collective two minutes in the presence of this beguiling man.

“Getting the usual?” the woman behind the counter asked as I approached. I cringed at the realization I’d frequented the location enough times to be recognized, but I nodded curtly, handing over a bill for payment.

“It’ll be right out,” said the woman with a smile, offering me the change that I always declined before sliding it into the glass tip jar in front of the register.

I moved down the bar, still feeling self-conscious about my childish reasons for being here, but then I spotted him, and any hesitation melted away, a breath catching in my chest.

He was dressed in his usual fashion, a white button-up shirt with sleeves rolled past the elbow and a navy apron tied around his slim waist. I’d grown to appreciate the way the fabric hugged the man’s form, hinting at the toned physique underneath.

I wondered what it would feel like to sink my fingertips into that waist…

“Hello again,” the barista greeted me as he danced through the motions of his work. “You’re becoming a regular, aren’t you?”

“I suppose so,” I replied, a heat building at the nape of my neck that I tried to ignore. What was it about this man that affected me this way? I couldn’t figure it out.

“We don’t get many Magi through here. I’m glad you enjoy my work,” the barista continued, a smirk curling the edges of his full lips. “Or was there something else that keeps you coming back?”

The malignant heat spread across my face like wildfire. “The coffee,” I replied, my voice wavering.

“Ah, I see.” The barista nodded, sliding a mug across the counter to another patron without taking his eyes off me. “Thought so. Double espresso over ice coming right at you.”

Now that I’d all but been given permission, I watched the man closely as he worked, tamping down the ground coffee and pulling the rich espresso into a glass. While he poured the velvety brown liquid over ice, swirling it gently, he looked up at me once more. “You know, I’m going to be finishing up my shift in about fifteen minutes. If you’re still around, maybe I could join you for a bit?”

“Why would you do that?” I asked, instinctively suspicious of the man’s intentions. What reason would this mortal have to speak with me? Was he being manipulated by another Magi to glean information about Mother?

It wouldn’t be the first time I was targeted to get to her.

“I like to get to know my regulars,” the barista replied, sliding the cup over to me. “Plus, I think you’re cute, and you’ve been staring at me for the last week without asking me out, so I figured you must be shy.”

Shy? I laughed at the ridiculous notion. I was the furthest thing from shy. But still, I found myself nodding at the man, my tongue unable to find the words of agreement.

The barista flashed a smile at me. “Great, I’m looking forward to it.”

Retreating to the café dining room, I found a seat by the window, the reality of the interaction slowly sinking in.

Away from the barista’s gaze, I could finally trust my thoughts again. What had I just agreed to? Why would I waste time sitting in some café in the middle of Mortal Row talking to one of them? Mortals and Magi lived such separate lives. What would we even talk about? It didn’t make sense. None of it did. And yet, there I sat, eagerly awaiting the lapse of fifteen minutes.

It was harmless, I told myself. It’s not like I would actually develop an attachment to someone—especially a mortal. Besides, my role prevented me from ever having that type of relationship. What would a lover think of me gallivanting about, seducing men to assert my family’s influence over them? It was a recipe for disaster. A sure-fire failure in the making.

None of those reasons spurred me to action. I was still seated when the barista approached the table, his apron tossed casually over his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re still here. May I join you?”

“If you’d like,” I replied, determined to keep my cool.

“I’m Bastien,” said the barista, sinking into the chair opposite me.

“Tobias.”

“It’s nice to officially meet you,” said Bastien, his warm golden eyes alight with a sparkle that I did not find distracting in the least. “What brings you to this side of the world, Tobias?”

“My work,” I replied, a calm settling over me as the conversation bloomed.

“Me too,” Bastien said with a grin. “Who would have thought we had so much in common?”

I found myself laughing. And for once, it wasn’t forced or a tool used to distract. It was natural. A subtle tightness in my chest eased as I took a deep, freeing breath.

I could get used to the feeling.

* * *

I fully expected the numbness to linger, so when pain returned in my chest, rousing me to consciousness, I groaned in protest.

Death couldn’t keep its grip on me, it would seem.

A blanket lay over me, itchy and stifling against my clammy skin. I struggled to rid myself of it but quickly discovered that my legs were bound together at the ankle—not tight enough to cause discomfort, but enough that I couldn’t maneuver my way from under the claustrophobic cloth.

“Try not to move too much, Tobi. I don’t want to have to redo the bindings.”

I froze, the blood in my veins turning to ice.

“Lenny?”

The space was dark, just a flicker of a lamp across from where I lay, illuminating a wall of textured fabric and a low ceiling. She moved in the shadows, lithe and silent as the grave. When the light hit her face, casting dark shapes across her features, I finally came face-to-face with my sister.

Relief poured over me like a rainstorm, soaking into my skin. I reached for her, my hands cupping her face as if I needed to touch her to prove to myself that she was real. She was here.

“You’re alive,” I whispered, afraid that speaking too loudly may shatter this new reality. My fingers found warm flesh as Lynette leaned into my touch. “Or we’re both dead. Either way, it’s good to see you.”

“You had it right the first time,” she said, lowering herself onto the edge of the cot, though her posture remained tensed, like she was expecting to leap away at any moment. “Are you happy to see me, Brother?”

“I’m relieved,” I admitted, a tangible tightness in my chest loosening with every breath in her presence.

“Bastien is here, too,” she continued. “He’s over in the infirmary, causing a lot of problems while they stitch him up.”

“Okay.”

Lynette raised a brow at me, a curiosity behind her eyes. “Does that news not please you? What’s wrong with you, little brother? Other than the obvious, of course.”

I leaned back on the pillow, my head cradled in its soft down. “I don’t know who I am right now, Lenny. My mind is in shambles, and I can only make sense of pieces here and there.”

“Right.” She nodded to herself. “Bastien mentioned there may be some lingering side effects. How much do you remember right now, exactly?”

“Not much,” I answered, running a hand along the ache in my chest and stuttering when my hand passed over the vacant space where the gem had been embedded. “Everything before Bastien revived me is still hazy. I’ll get glimpses, but it’s hard to keep it all in order.”

Another nod from my sister, and I could tell the cogs in her head were turning. She avoided looking me in the eye. “Don’t fret, Tobi. I’m sure your memories will be back soon. Till then, you can enjoy the bliss of a clean slate. No one from our family has had such a privilege in a long, long time.”

She smiled, but there was something else. She was holding something back from me. That much was clear. A warmth swelled in my chest at the thought of my connection with her surviving the end of my first life. She was still my sister, even if I was only a portion of her brother in return.

“What’s happened, Lenny?” I asked, my voice breaking.

Exhaustion had taken its toll on my body. My muscles ached, my pulse hammered erratically, and a buzzing sensation writhed under my scalp like an infestation of insects. But I was alive. And Lenny was here, her flesh warm against mine. We’d made it, somehow.

“There’s not enough time to explain,” Lynette replied, pulling a golden watch from her pocket, the face opening on a hinge. “I have to run, Tobi. But I’ll be back soon, I promise. Rest and recuperate, brother of mine. We will speak when I return. I want your wits as sharp as your tongue.”

My pulse spiked as she slipped from the cot.

“Lenny, wait,” I pleaded, but she was already across the tent, pulling a flap of fabric back before disappearing through it. I collapsed back onto the cot with a sigh, pressing the heel of my hands into the sockets of my eyes.

Lynette was alive. I had that much to celebrate. But what did it mean for me? Would Bastien now make good on his promise to return me to the grave? And what of the gem that was supposedly keeping me alive? I pawed at the spot on my chest once more, wincing at the tenderness of the flesh. Unfastening my shirt, I observed the ring of scarred skin across my chest, the center of which was fiery red and hot to the touch. If the gem was removed then how was I still drawing breath?

More mysteries that weren’t adding up to any sum of coherency.

As I lay there, stewing in my thoughts, the sounds of my surroundings seeped in through the walls of the tent.

From the direction that Lynette exited, I could make out the faint sounds of laughter. Conversations layered over one another like a symphony in rebellion, each melody playing over the other till none could be differentiated.

After a moment of effort, I detangled myself from the scratchy blanket, investigating the binding around my ankles. Rings of crackling blue light wrapped around both, fastening them together. I would be able to stand as it were, but without release from the magic that bound me, there was no way for me to make an escape.

But why was I thinking of escaping? Lynette was here. Wherever ‘here’ was. She was safe. And with that knowledge, I should feel at peace with my imminent return to the earth. It was the way things were meant to be.

And yet, I struggled against the thought as if it were the bindings themselves. How had I died? Was I going to be able to rest without that knowledge?

A voice drew my attention, closer to the tent than the rest of the din.

“Let me through, godsdammit!”

The flapping of fabric filled the tent again as Bastien strode through the entrance, his attention locked directly on me.

I recoiled into the padding of the cot. Bastien had come for me, which could only mean one thing—he was ready to make good on his promise. He was coming to put me back into the ground.

Instinct took over. I had to run.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the cot, I struggled to my feet, but Bastien was quick, and in two steps, he was upon me, hands firmly on my shoulders, preventing me from moving any further. He leaned down over me, and for just a moment, I feared he was going to bite me, flashing teeth like a ravenous wolf, but then Bastien’s lips were on mine, the heat of them against my skin enough to cause me to shiver.

The buzzing in my head intensified as memories bubbled to the surface?—

We stood in an alleyway, the night sky above twinkling with only the brightest of stars. Bastien’s hands were on my waist, fingers sinking into the supple flesh as he pulled me tighter against him, my breath coming in short bursts that steamed between us. Bastien’s eyes held me in place as he drew closer, closing the almost non-existent distance between us. Thunder rumbled through my chest. The taste of coffee, bitter, then sweet against my tongue. The smell of lilacs, floral and crisp. It was everything I had been missing—this pleasure that washed over me. No strings attached. No manipulations at play. Just me and this man who ignited the smoldering heat in my chest with every flick of his tongue and every caress of his fingers ? —

I shoved Bastien away with all of my strength, and he stumbled back a few steps.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I spat, running a hand over my mouth.

“I’m sorry,” Bastien said quickly, his eyes shut as he pressed a hand to his forehead. “Gods, I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry. But Tobi, the last few days have been absolutely insufferable. Then today, being so close and not being able to touch you—it’s been torturous.”

“What are you talking about?” I questioned, straining further against the restraints on my legs. Was this some sort of ploy? Did Bastien intend to catch me off guard, to blindside me with this show of affection so I wouldn’t put up a fight when it came to returning me to the grave? “Why would you kiss me like that? I thought… things were over between us.”

Bastien’s eyes opened, the edges of his mouth pulling downward. “It’s complicated.”

I ran a hand over the scar on my chest, the warmth steadying me. “Then I suggest you start talking. And make it quick.”

“I know it must be confusing for you,” said Bastien. “But I promise you, this is all a part of the plan.”

My blood ran cold.

“ What plan?”