Page 3

“Another cup?”

Bastien held up the half-empty coffee pot from across the kitchen, giving it a gentle shake. Sunlight streamed through the open, floor-to-ceiling windows, washing the cherrywood floors in patches of sepia and honey. The heat of summer had finally loosened its grip on the city, and the first cool breezes of autumn drifted in, caressing my exposed skin. Gooseflesh rose across my arms, so I pulled the sleeves of my robe down further.

“That’s okay, love. If I have any more, I’m afraid I’ll burst through my skin. And while it would be incredibly entertaining, Mother would not see the humor in my ruining her soiree.”

Bastien filled a mug for himself, returning the pot to the burner before sauntering back to where I waited in the breakfast nook. My spare silk robe hung from his body like a sheet of moonlight, concealing far too much of his warm umber skin. The urge to peel it off of him left me leering. I would do it slowly. Deliberately. I would feast on all the delicious places hidden underneath the fabric.

He planted a kiss on my forehead, dulling the ravenous thoughts left unchecked, then returned to his seat across the table, his hands cupped around the steaming mug. My mind must have been singularly focused because all I could imagine were those hands wrapped around other things. But the morning was already wearing thin, and I could not afford to be late.

Not when it came to Mother.

“Are you still hungry?” Bastien eyed me from over the rim of his cup, his deep golden eyes bright with amusement. He was always looking at me this way. Like he was in on a joke that I didn’t understand. Not cruel—never cruel—just amused.

“Hmm?” I looked down at the half-eaten breakfast on my plate.

Bastien’s grin was tantamount to an act of seduction. “You were staring at me like you wanted to gobble me up. Should I make you another egg?”

“Really?” I mused, trying to play coy even though my voice spiked an octave. I cleared my throat, then continued, “That can’t be true. I would never be so lewd at the breakfast table. I adhere to a strict moral code, you know.”

“Mhm.” Bastien cocked an eyebrow, which sent a biting heat prickling across the nape of my neck. Suddenly, the cool breeze didn’t feel quite as refreshing. “And where was this moral code when it came to last night’s activities?”

“Completely absent,” I admitted, the rush of blood to my face far more successful in rousing me than the coffee had been. “But I don’t remember hearing any complaints.”

“There was no chance to complain. You kept my mouth so busy.”

My face was no longer the destination of the blood pumping frantically through my veins. Bastien sipped his coffee, a smug smile curling his lips around the rim of the mug. He was especially wicked in the mornings, and it seemed today was no exception. Not that I minded, of course.

I shook the heated thoughts from my head, a shiver creeping down my spine from another burst of cool air washing over my flushed face. With a simple wave of my hand and a shower of golden sparks, the windows flew shut.

Bastien flinched, his mug tipping forward, but he managed to catch it before it toppled over.

Damn my distracted impulsiveness. I knew better than to use magic—even simple magic—so flippantly around Bastien. It was so second nature to me I hardly had a moment to reconsider. Magic was as much a part of me as using my hands or feet. But for Bastien, who had grown up outside of the Magi City, in a town of mortals, being so close to magic was an adjustment.

“Forgive me,” I offered, giving a weak smile. “I’m trying to be better about that.”

Bastien waved off my apology. “It’s fine. I promise. Maybe I shouldn’t have poured myself a second cup. I’m already jumpy enough as it is.”

There was something else underneath his words. A shadow that settled across his features and obscured the brightness I had grown so accustomed to. It spurred a twinge in my chest to see his luminescence dim.

“Are you sure I couldn’t convince you to tag along today? The look on Mother’s face alone would be well worth any recourse. And selfishly, I so desperately wish to show you off. Parade you around all those dreadfully boring princelings who flock to me.”

“I have a shift,” Bastien replied, fidgeting in his chair. “And we’ve talked about this. I don’t think it would be a good idea.”

“But why? I’ve already told her about us—not that she didn’t already know. What’s the worst the old hag could do?”

I knew all too well there was a lot that Mother could and probably would do to me if I showed up to her event with a mortal in tow. I could just imagine the gasps. The clutching of pearls. The sordid whispers.

It would be glorious. If only for a moment.

“I don’t belong in that world,” Bastien said, cutting through my mask of sarcasm. “And I have no interest in getting involved with your family politics. I won’t be reduced to some headline in the gossip column for a bunch of Magi socialites to gawk over just so you can piss off your mother.”

I flinched at the force behind his words.

“That was never my intention,” I said slowly. “And I apologize if I made it seem so. Your comfort is far more important to me than any of those assholes that Mother spends her time wining and dining. Why should they deserve a chance to feast their eyes on such beauty?”

Bastien’s lips curled into a slight smile. Flattery was a weakness that I knew how to leverage.

“But just to be clear, if I keep showing up unaccompanied, Mother is going to make me dance with all of those awful Adored bachelors in some poor attempt at marrying me off.” I covered my face with my hands, slyly peeking through my fingers. “Are you okay with that?”

His smile blossomed into a mischievous grin. “Maybe I will attend, then. If only to watch you longingly from across the room. You never want to dance with me.”

“Not true!” I argued. “I distinctly recall there being dancing last night.”

“Writhing in ecstasy and dancing are not the same thing.”

“Writhing in ecstasy?” I repeated with a laugh. “My, someone thinks highly of themselves.”

Bastien shrugged, clearly holding back his own laughter. “I merely speak the truth.”

“There should be a consensus from all parties before such claims can be corroborated.”

“Have you forgotten so quickly, Tobias?” Bastien asked, setting down his mug and rising from his seat. “It sounds like someone could use a refresher.”

I glanced up at the clock just as Bastien swept me up into his arms, hoisting me over his shoulder.

“Fine, fine, but we better make it quick!”

* * *

“Stop touching that.”

Bastien steered my curious hand away from the sparkling green gem embedded in my chest. The facets pulsed with acidic green energy in time with my heartbeat, and even though the edges sunk into my flesh, there was no pain at my poking.

Maybe it was the effects of death lingering in my veins. The numbness had only just left the tips of my fingers a few moments prior.

“Could you at least find me a shirt to cover up with?” I asked, still fixated on the pulsing protrusion. “I’m going to stare at the damn thing all day if I don’t get it out of my sight.”

“Patience,” Bastien retorted, his voice lacking any of the familiar honey I had once been accustomed to. Bastien firmly gripped my arm, tracing prodding fingers down to my wrist and then back again. Once he was satisfied, he jotted a note in a leatherbound journal lying on the table next to me.

“And?” I watched him now as he stared down at his notes, his taut jaw revealing more than words ever could. He was upset. Whatever strange magic he’d used to bring me back to life must have had a hitch. Some unforeseen side effect. That certainly would explain the chaotic condition I found my faculties in. And perhaps the insatiable itch coming from the soles of my feet.

“The Viridian gem is taking hold,” Bastien said finally, snapping the book shut and stuffing it into the chest pocket of his button-down. “It will keep your body moving, keep magic pumping through your veins. But it won’t help far beyond that. Your magic had already seeped from your body by the time I was called, so this—” he tapped the gem embedded in my chest, “is filled with a portion of my magic. It’s not a lot—I don’t have much to begin with—but it’ll keep you going until we find Lynette.”

“My magic is gone?”

I reached into that space in my chest—the hollow where my magic usually thrummed, filling my veins with vigor—but found a cavernous emptiness. Well, maybe not entirely empty. It took a moment, but I was finally able to detect the abnormal magic Bastien had given me. I reached out for it instinctually. It was like a familiar song, played in a foreign key, recognizable but eerily wrong. Sorrow, muddled with a wave of panic, swelled in my gut. My fingers wrapped around Bastien’s forearm, anchoring me to him.

“Please,” I pleaded, my voice splintering. “I can’t—I don’t understand what’s happening. How did I die?”

“Allow me,” another voice interjected, the clacking of heels returning as the woman with yellow-blond curls glided into view. She was a few inches shorter than me, which meant that next to Bastien she almost appeared as a child. Her piercing blue eyes looked me up and down, and I silently cursed Bastien for leaving me so exposed, especially under her chilly stare. “Your sister is missing, Mister Greene.” The woman’s voice was matter-of-fact as if she were discussing sales data and not vanishing loved ones. “She was last seen leaving the residence of the VanDoughtens after her Ascension ceremony three nights ago. You were reported to be with her at that time. The day after, your body was discovered in an unmarked grave outside on the outskirts of Adoracia Cemetery in the upper Magi City. The Council of Magi has launched an official investigation into the whereabouts of Lynette Greene. However, the Madame has retained me to locate her daughter as soon as possible and by any means necessary.”

The Council of Magi. I at least had enough faculties to remember the collection of high-powered Magi who acted as the governing body of Magi society. My mother, Adoranda Greene, had been a part of the Council for decades. Depending on who you asked, she would be considered its defacto leader.

It was odd that I could recall the intricacies of Magi politics, yet anything leading up to my supposed death was scrambled to near oblivion in my mind. If these two were to be believed, and I’d been dead for the last three days, then the strangeness was only beginning.

“Well, that’s right shit,” I concluded, scratching my stubbly chin and longing for a shave. “I would have at least expected them to provide a headstone for me.”

The corner of Bastien’s mouth twitched. It didn’t go unnoticed. In fact, I reveled in the realization I could still draw out that reaction. I’d take any small victories I could.

“I’m looking for Lynette,” the blond woman continued, stepping between me and Bastien. “And we’re hoping you can help us in locating her.”

“How exactly would I do that?” I asked, failing to understand the woman’s logic.

“All I need is the truth,” she replied, her stern voice commanding my attention. “What were the two of you doing the night of her disappearance? Why were you at the VanDoughtens?”

Her words gnawed at the soft tissue of my brain like vermin, radiating a nauseating pain down my spine. “Look, I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about.”

“His memory has been affected,” Bastien interjected, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder and steering her out of the way. “Hopefully, it’s only temporary, but I told you this could happen with a revivification this late. I can’t guarantee it will come back at all.”

I let out a shuddered sigh. The news was less than comforting. Then again, Bastien had already promised to put me back into the ground once Lynette was found, so maybe I wouldn’t have long to lament over the missing pieces of my life.

I was already dead. And what’s worse, I couldn’t even mourn the life I’d lived before. Not when the details of it lay shattered in a heap.

The woman muttered something I couldn’t catch, shaking her head hard enough to send her curls bouncing. “Fine,” she spoke up, turning to Bastien. “Then let’s focus on what we can get out of him. It’s better than nothing. Can you see?—”

“Don’t speak about me like I’m not in the room,” I snapped, pushing myself up into a seated position. Immediate regret sunk in as I swayed, the room spinning around me.

Bastien was at my side before I could topple, steadying me with warm hands. “Easy,” he coaxed, the edge dissolving from his voice. “You can’t rush yourself.”

The woman stomped her foot with a huff. “You can, actually. And you should. The longer this situation drags on the less of a chance we have of finding Lynette alive. You do want your sister to be alive, don’t you?”

“Would you care to fill me in here?” I addressed the woman, bracing both hands on the edge of the desk to hold myself upright. “Preferably starting with who the bloody hell you are? You said that the Council had launched an investigation, so why would my mother go out of her way to hire you when there are teams of Magi trained to track targets down?”

The blond woman’s eyes narrowed. Her lips pursed as if she found the question so far beneath her it didn’t even deign a response.

“Some details might help speed up the recovery of his memories,” Bastien said, digging through his duffle bag on the floor and retrieving a small blanket. He wrapped it gingerly across my shoulders and I quickly pulled it tight around my exposed flesh.

The familiar scent of pine and musk filled my nose, and for a moment, I was transported miles away to a room far cozier than my current surroundings— A crackling fire roared opposite a plush, velvet sofa. Wine glasses sat on the low table, half empty. Legs wrapped around my torso, painted by firelight in coppery hues ? —

Heat built at the nape of my neck, spilling over to trickle down my back. I pulled the blanket tighter, letting the corners of the fabric bundle across my lap.

Why would these memories be the first to return to me? Surely, my addled mind needed to check its priorities.

The woman huffed once more, folding her slight arms across the buttons of her striped vest. “Fine. In the interest of saving time, my name is Lorelei Orion. I was retained by Madame Greene to locate her daughter in a discreet fashion. As I’m sure you are aware, Lynette was to officially assume the role of Head Councilwoman of the Magi Council yesterday. Because of her absence, the position now sits vacant, leaving other houses chomping at the bit to fill the vacuum of power. They will hold a special election if Lynette is not located in time, so you can imagine that Madame Greene has stressed the importance of locating her as quickly as possible. Which is why she came to me.”

Odd that she would go behind the Council’s backs. Perhaps Mother suspected treachery from the other Council members. If they could stall the search for Lynette long enough, they could replace her with another candidate. Mother must have suspected a coup d’état in the works.

“Orion,” I repeated, scouring the fragments of my mind for any recognition of the name. “That doesn’t sound like an Adored surname. Are you one of the Hallowed?”

“Mortal, actually,” Lorelei answered.

Laughter bubbled up and out of my mouth before I could process it. A mortal? There was no way Mother would have anything to do with a mortal in any capacity—even this. She’d rather die than rely on someone of mortal blood. Then again, perhaps that’s why she insisted on discretion, if only to save herself from the embarrassment. Wouldn’t want it to get out that she had to rely on a mortal.

“I’m the best at what I do, Mister Greene,” Lorelei continued as if privy to the unvoiced comments bouncing around my head. “Of that, I can assure you. And I charge a small fortune, which the Madame respects.” Her attention shifted to Bastien then, “Is he ready to move? Time is not on our side.”

“Almost,” Bastien replied, rummaging around his bag once more. “He just needs to get dressed.”

Lorelei nodded, pulling a device from her pocket and flipping it open—a communication device popular amongst the mortals, I recalled—she pressed it to her ear, rattling off a greeting in a language I didn’t understand. The staccato of her steps faded down the hall, leaving the two of us in silence.

I was still reeling that Mother would involve a mortal in family affairs, even if the mortal was as supposedly impressive as this Lorelei woman proclaimed. It showed a desperation that I had thought beneath her. Was she starting to show a glimmer of humanity in her advanced years?

The idea fled from my mind with a shake of my head. There was no love left for the woman. Even from my jumbled stasis of that, I was sure. Any affection was extracted from me long ago by her own hand. If I’d been brought back for any other reason besides helping Lynette, I would have told Bastien to put my back in the ground right then and there.

But I supposed that would happen sooner or later, so all that was left for me to do was help my sister. She was the innocent one in all this.

My thoughts and gaze returned to Bastien as he gathered the stripped bandages into a pile on the desk. A new ache flared in my chest—a squeezing sensation that stole the breath from my lungs. Whatever happened between the two of us, I couldn’t recall, but that fact did little to quell the urge to reach out and touch him.

I needed to know why he was here. Why he was the one who brought me back. There must be others out in the world who could have performed the task. Why did it have to be my Ex?

“How did you get wrapped up in all this?” I asked him as he worked.

Bastien didn’t answer as he removed to final bandages from my legs, adding them to the growing pile. The line of his mouth with tight, as if he were holding himself back.

“Bastien?”

He retrieved a pair of jeans and a wrinkled T-shirt from his bag, setting them on the desk beside me. “Get dressed,” he said, still avoiding eye contact with me.

I moved, no longer able to resist the urge, catching him at the wrist. “Please, Bastien. You must help me out here. I’m just trying to make sense of—” I motioned back and forth between us, “ this .”

“I’m sorry,” Bastien replied, his voice a whisper. His eyes—warm pools of amber—flitted down to his knuckles as his grip tightened on the handle of the bag.

Pain. I was sure that’s what I saw in his expression. But was I the cause? What had I done to warrant such a response?

Releasing my hold, I grabbed the T-shirt and pulled it swiftly over my head. My stiff muscles ached with each movement, and I had to stifle a groan.

“Could you at least tell me what’s wrong with my brain?” I asked, unfolding the jeans. “My memories… they keep coming in waves. It’s impossible to keep them straight.”

Bastien turned his back to me as I finished dressing. “That’s a bit less complicated. It’s one of Death’s Touches. My grandmother called them that, at least. Side effects that manifest in the resurrected in an endless number of ways. Memory loss is supposed to be the most common.”

“Lucky me,” I mumbled, fastening the button of the too-loose jeans. They hung from my hips like a curtain. “I don’t get to remember who murdered me.”

Bastien glanced over his shoulder, a flicker of softness peeking through before his guarded expression returned. “We should get going.”

“Did I know about you?”

My tongue formed the question before my mind could catch up. Bastien’s warm eyes found me again, spurring me on. “I can piece together that we’re not—that things ended between us. But did I know you’re a Reviled?”

Reviled. Even speaking the word made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. The banished Magi who could manipulate life and were supposed to be extinct. And Bastien was one of them. How had I not seen it? Was I really so blind?

“I never told you,” he answered, tone flat. He reached down, grabbing the bag from the floor and slinging it over his shoulder. Then he was beside me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist and hauling me to my feet. I stumbled, my legs numb through the first few steps. Bastien held fast, supporting my weight with ease. There was a part of me—someplace deep down—that relished in that moment, Bastien’s warmth pressed to my side. But it didn’t last, and as soon as I was able to stand on my own, Bastien removed himself.

By the time we’d made it to the door leading out into a marble-floored hall, the pins-and-needles sensation in my feet had abated almost entirely.

“What is this place?” I asked, glancing down the long corridor. The floor was polished to perfection, reflecting the intricate, prismatic design of the ceiling panels above us. The effect was dizzying, and I had to shut my eyes for a moment to keep from swaying.

“This is Lorelei’s home,” answered Bastien, hovering a few steps behind me as if he were waiting for me to fall out. “The Orion Manor. She wanted to make sure no one would interrupt the revivification, so she insisted that I come here.”

“Manor, huh?” I echoed, following the path forward and trying to keep my eyes level to the ground. “What kind of a mortal is she?”

Bastien shook his head, slowly rounding the corner behind me. I pushed myself to keep pace, my lethargic limbs cooperating more with each step. The hallway opened up around us, the ceiling vaulting as we approached the landing of a dramatic, curved staircase leading down to an opulent foyer. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, refracting beams that streamed through half a dozen skylights, casting pools of rainbow light across nearly every surface.

It was like stepping into a kaleidoscope.

The beauty rivaled any Adored chateau—at least the ones I could recall—and I struggled to believe a mortal family was capable of such wealth.

“And you’re sure she’s mortal?” I questioned, unable to tear my gaze away from the articulate carvings on the pillars of alabaster that rose to support the vaulted roof. Scaled beasts twisted along the surface, frozen in pale beauty as they coiled toward the sky.

“Does it matter?” Bastien asked, already halfway down the marble stairs.

The question caught me off guard. Did it matter? I wasn’t even sure what compelled me to ask it in the first place. It was maddening, not being able to understand my own inclinations. Where did this contempt for mortals come from?

My legs quaked under me as I clung to the railing, beginning my descent. Bastien didn’t rush me, waiting patiently at the foot of the stairs, watching me with a steeled expression. Fiery needles stabbed into my calves with each impact, a sheen of cold sweat building along my forehead by the time I’d landed on the fifth step. I clenched my teeth to stifle the noises rising from the back of my throat, but it did little to dampen the sound.

“How’s the pain?” Bastien asked the slightest trace of warmth buried in his deep voice. At least, that’s what I hoped it was.

I cleared my throat. “What pain? I’m fine and dandy.”

“You’re whimpering.”

“Am not.”

“I think I remember what your whimpering sounds like.”

My foot slipped on the smooth tile, forcing me to clutch the railing with all my might to stay upright. “Stop distracting me!”

Bastien sighed, dropping his duffle on the polished floor and retracing his steps up to meet me. “You’re a stubborn asshole, even in your second life. Here.”

He offered a hand out to me, and I reached for it without a second thought. It’s like my body didn’t care for the forgotten details of our breakup. It longed to touch Bastien, no matter the reason.

Bastien’s warm hand enveloped mine, and for a moment, I thought he was going to brace me again like he’d done before, but then he swooped down, pressing his strong frame into my thighs as he heaved me over his shoulder as if I were a sack of flour.

“Put me down!” I protested, my head dangling inches from the small of Bastien’s back. I lacked the strength to be anything but a ragdoll in the man’s clutches.

Bastien ignored my request, refusing to even offer a reply as he carried me down the rest of the stairs with little effort.

“How wonderful,” Lorelei’s voice echoed as we crested the foot of the staircase. “Here I was thinking you were only good for revivification, Bastien. Maybe I’ll put those muscles to good use as well.”

“My services were laid out clearly in the contract you signed,” Bastien retorted. “Tobias is my only concern for the duration of his second life. You can hire a lackey if you want something heavy carried around.”

My heart fluttered involuntarily. I was Bastien’s only concern. Why did that make me so… happy?

“What a shame.” Lorelei’s voice was closer to us now, and I strained my neck at a painful angle to catch a glimpse of her as she circled Bastien. “I’m so curious as to why you showed up at my doorstep in the first place. You know who I’m working for. And I was under the impression that Reviled, like yourself, are considered a pariah to other Magi. What happens if you get caught, handsome?”

“Money is money. And any other reasons are my own,” grumbled Bastien. “None of which are relevant to you or your work.”

“Are you sure about that?” Lorelei pressed, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “Because I’ve got a few theories of my own as to why you’re here.”

“Keep them to yourself. I’m not interested.”

“Can you please put me down?” I interrupted, taking advantage of the lull in their sniping. “All the blood is rushing to my head.”

Bastien’s hold tightened, tipping me forward to allow me to slide off his shoulder. Lorelei’s eyes found me, icy blue judgment sizing me up. It was the first time we’d met eye-to-eye. A shiver shot down my spine as she sniffed.

“The car is out front,” she said plainly while Bastien retrieved his discarded bag. “We need to get a move on.”

“Where exactly are we going?” I asked, already missing Bastien’s presence beside me.

Lorelei turned her back, making for the grandiose wooden door at the entrance.

“Wonderful. Good talk.”