Page 49 of Enchantra (Wicked Games #2)

48

HER RING

Genevieve was currently trailing through the French Quarter behind Salem and Ophelia. The two of them on their way to a specialty bookstore they loved to linger in well past Genevieve’s patience for old dusty things.

Salem paused in front of a street act with moving cups and little rubber balls, driving the magician mad every time Salem guessed the incorrect cup, yet somehow a ball still managed to appear. Ophelia pressed her face into Salem’s chest to keep from laughing.

“I’m going to get a praline from Laura’s,” Genevieve told them when she spotted the candy store on the corner.

“Get me one, too?” Ophelia asked.

Genevieve nodded, fiddling with her bracelet as she headed toward the shop, her thoughts somewhere far away as she meandered through the tourists. When she approached the shop’s door, someone suddenly reached out ahead of her and pulled it open.

“Thank you,” she said automatically as she looked up at the stranger’s face.

She froze.

He was perhaps one of the most beautiful people she’d ever seen. His eyes an unusual amber color. His disheveled raven hair a bit unruly at the ends. And the single gold hoop pierced through his full bottom lip made her stomach flip.

He gave her a smile as he flicked his eyes down to the bracelet she was fidgeting with on her wrist.

“Hello,” he murmured.

“Hi,” she greeted back.

He had opened his mouth to say more when the sound of something metallic plinked on the ground between them. They both glanced down at a thick silver ring.

He crouched to pick it up. “Is this yours?”

It was a signet, its band carved with swirling filigree around a flat onyx stone.

She shook her head in amusement. “I would never wear something like that. It’s…”

“Hideous?” he supplied.

She flicked her eyes back up to his golden gaze. “You think so, too?”

But he didn’t answer. He only tilted his head and stared at her expectantly. As if he were waiting for something.

After a long beat, she asked, “Is there something wrong?”

Disappointment flashed in his strange gold eyes, and she couldn’t help but think that he looked…devastated. Still, all he said was, “Are you going to go inside?”

“Oh.” She blinked, realizing he was still holding open the door. “No, actually. I think I’ve changed my mind.”

He nodded. “I hope you have a good day, then.”

“You too.”

He let the door shut and brushed past her without another word, and she watched as he disappeared down the street. But the further away he got, the more something began to nag at her. Something telling her to go after him. And before she knew it, her feet were moving. Slowly at first. A few tentative steps. Then she was running.

“Wait!” she called.

He spun.

“I made a mistake,” she told him, a bit breathless. “The ring…is mine. I just forgot.”

Hope flickered over his face as he reached into his pocket and procured the silver monstrosity. When he handed it over to her, she swore his expression contained the smallest bit of relief .

He watched her intently.

“Thanks,” she told him.

Without wasting another second, she turned and dashed toward the Quarter to find her sister. Before the stranger changed his mind and took it back.

For two weeks after that trip to the Quarter, Genevieve couldn’t sleep.

She tossed and turned as visions of labyrinths and mirrors played in her dreams. The same shadowy figure by her side in each one. And then one night, there was a flicker.

Of a man. With gold eyes.

She shot up in bed.

It was well past midnight as she threw off her covers and dashed over to her vanity, yanking open the top drawer to dig out the ugly ring that the stranger had given her that day in the Quarter.

She stared at it for a very long moment, her heart racing. Then she did something odd. She slid it onto her ring finger.

And the memories began to flower in her head.

They came back all at once, like smoke filling in every corner of her mind. Making her dizzy as the scenes unfurled one after the other.

Arriving at Enchantra’s gates.

The first time she’d ever seen his face.

Putting on her wedding dress.

Their vows.

Their first kiss.

Dying in his arms.

She cried out as she crashed to her knees on the ground, gripping her temples as the pain of her memories weaving themselves back into her mind nearly made her pass out.

Yet she had never been more grateful to feel pain before. How could she when he finally returned to her? In one breathtaking vision after the next.