Page 28

Cate

By dawn, I’d paced the length of Lach’s and my shared quarters more times than I could count. The plush carpet softened my steps, but each felt deafening in my head. Lach had sent me away. Shaw had dropped me at the Avalon and returned straight to his side. It wasn’t the first time, and it wasn’t what really bothered me. The memory of his words gnawed at me like an itch that wouldn’t go away no matter how many times I scratched it, and every time his phone went straight to voicemail, it got worse.

Unable to stand the silence of the room any longer, I stormed out into the shared foyer, nearly colliding with Shaw and Ciara. Dark circles rimmed their eyes, and Ciara’s normally shiny black hair was in complete disarray. They looked like they’d just crawled back from a wild night out, but I knew they’d been dealing with family business.

And I had been sent to my room.

“Where the hell is Lach?” I demanded, cringing at the sharpness of my own voice. But part of me—the part that had been waiting up for hours—didn’t care if I sounded like a bitch. I’d earned the right to be pissed.

Shaw rubbed the back of his neck, exhaustion slackening his face. “He spent a few hours tearing through everyone on guard tonight, and then he laid into the rest of us for shits and giggles,” he admitted, the weight of whatever tirade Lach had unleashed still pressing down on him.

Of course he had. Because he blamed himself for what had happened. étienne had been alive yesterday, and when Lach’s back was turned, he was murdered. I understood why he was angry—étienne was as close to a friend and ally as Lach had among the vampires—but that didn’t excuse his behavior. “Where is he?” I asked, my hand already moving toward the elevator button as I imagined the satisfaction I’d feel telling him just that.

“He went back to the French Quarter,” Ciara said. Weariness drenched each word. She popped off her heels one at a time and tossed them down the hall that led to her room. “He’s meeting with Baptiste at her restaurant. Trying to keep the vampires from renouncing their oaths.”

My stomach pitched at the thought of what would happen if they did. But before I could ask more questions, Ciara stumbled toward the hall.

“Where are you going?” I called, sucking back a wince as she almost walked into the wall. She gripped the threshold that separated her quarters from the others and looked back at me.

“Bed.” The single word came out as a yawn, but she managed a feeble smile. “The drama will wait for the morning.”

I frowned. “It is morning, Ciara.”

With a shrug that held more resignation than indifference, she limped a few steps toward her room. “Then it will wait for another morning,” she called back, disappearing down the corridor, toward the promise of sleep.

“It’ll be fine, Cate.” Shaw patted my shoulder, but there was doubt in his voice.

“Do you really believe that?” I asked, calling his bluff.

“I think I’m just used to saying it.” He paused, his jaw clenching. “About earlier—at the bar, I mean—I’m sorry Channing got dragged into that.”

My brother hadn’t shown his face all night, and I didn’t have the energy to hunt him down. Not when I knew there would be an argument. Not when he might demand answers I didn’t have. Not when it could have been him strung up on those gates.

“Just don’t let anything happen to him,” I whispered.

“I’ll try.” The promise was too full of regret to be entirely believable. “But then again, I’m always trying to do the right thing and still screwing it up.”

I hugged him without thinking. Shaw froze like this was an entirely new experience for him before finally patting me awkwardly on the back.

“Get some sleep,” I said as I pulled away. Not so much an order as a request. He nodded gratefully, heading toward his bed with a mumbled goodbye.

I had no idea where Baptiste’s restaurant was, but it couldn’t be that hard to find. My pulse ticked up with each floor the elevator descended. This had to be about Lach’s inability to control the mating bond’s protective instinct. It was the only rational explanation for why he’d sent me away while everyone else got to help. I had no clue why it had triggered so strongly last night, or why he’d given in to it, but I wasn’t going to be sidelined by some ancient magical paranoia. I was more determined than ever to remind him that if this thing between us was going to actually work, we had to be equals.

The moment the doors slid open to reveal the lobby, I stormed out and ran directly into someone. I’d begun to mumble “sorry” when I recognized the platinum-streaked black bob.

“Willow, what…?” I started, my brows knitting together as she dumped a sad bouquet into my arms without any of the usual pleasantries. I looked down at the wilted tulips, their petals browning and edges curling like old parchment, some already completely dried out, in confusion.

“I brought these for you.” She shoved a flustered hand through her hair, already turning in a circle, her eyes widening as she took in the Avalon. “You actually live here?”

“Um, yes.” Although I wasn’t sure for how much longer if Lach didn’t get his shit together. I shifted through the brittle flowers in my arms awkwardly, trying not to let the dead ones crumble. Their once vibrant colors had leached away, leaving behind only the ghost of their beauty. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Oh! Sorry!” She spun back to me. “They aren’t a gift. You just mentioned you had an alchemist friend, and I wanted you to ask him what might be up with my eternal bloom spell. It’s never failed before.” There was something like pride in her voice.

“Failed?” I repeated, the single word tasting bitter on my tongue. More magic was failing, there had been another murder, and I’d been sent to my room to let the grown-ups solve all the problems. My frustration lingered for a heartbeat before giving way to resolve. “Not yet, but come upstairs. We can call my friend from there.”

Lach could keep trying to solve everything with intimidation and threats of violence, but I had other resources at my disposal—resources that had proven more effective than his ideas before. If magic was at the heart of our problems, it was time to ask an expert.

Willow hesitated, her eyes darting from the elevator to me, a silent battle waging in her eyes. She was in Gage territory. I’d seen enough of the tension between the city’s magical creatures to understand that, for a witch, walking through the Nether Prince’s door took a leap of faith. Finally, she gave a resigned nod that spoke volumes of the trust we had built. “Might as well see the rest of your place.”

“It’s not my place,” I said through gritted teeth as I called the elevator back. At least it didn’t feel that way right now.

She frowned all the way up to her forehead, which knit together in doubt. Leaning forward, she whispered as if the security camera might be able to hear her, “Do you keep your underwear here?”

“Um…yes,” I said slowly.

She leaned back, crossing her arms with a smirk. “Then it’s your place. Once the panties are in the drawer, the place is yours.”

“I’ll be sure to throw a housewarming party,” I said dryly, but I couldn’t help smiling.

The elevator dinged its arrival on the family’s private floor, and as the doors slid open, Willow let out a low whistle. “Now I get what you see in him.”

I almost laughed, her awe briefly lifting the weight from my shoulders. I hadn’t bothered to lock the place up when I left. I hadn’t even grabbed my purse, I realized when I saw it sitting on the table next to the door. The living room was dark, the curtains still closed and the morning light fighting to penetrate the heavy drapery. I crossed over and opened them, letting the sun wash over the space.

Willow hadn’t moved more than a step from the door, and I waved her inside. “Do you want something to drink?”

“It’s like seven in the morning,” she said, finally moving past the threshold.

“I never went to bed, so it’s still just late to me.” I walked over to the bar cart and poured myself a single finger of Scotch.

She seemed to consider my logic sound. “I’ll take one, too.” She wandered around a bit as I poured, pausing to pick up my Birkin bag. “I swear your entire vibe is Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous . Gods, this is heavy.” She peeked inside and blinked rapidly before putting the purse quickly back on the table. “Now I see why. I take it back. You’re living that mafia-wife life. I just keep lipstick in my purse.”

“He insists,” I said with a grim shrug, carrying the drinks to her.

“I heard about what happened to étienne,” she said, accepting hers. “Is that why you didn’t sleep?”

“Yes.” I nodded, feeling suddenly cold. I downed the whisky, chasing the chill away. “Did you hear anything else?”

She tapped the glass like she wasn’t sure if she should answer. “Rumor is that there were other murders and that your boyfriend was hiding them.”

No wonder Lach hadn’t come home yet. Dealing with the public spectacle of étienne’s death was one thing. If news had spread about the other two murders…

“I almost didn’t come,” she continued. “I figured you might have your hands full, but I also thought maybe you could use a distraction.”

I sighed, wondering how I was so easy to read. “I just want to do something. I’m tired of sitting around and waiting for answers.” I fumbled for my phone in my pocket, its screen slick under my fingertips. “Any idea what time it is in Prague?”

She shook her head. “Shit. You weren’t kidding when you said you knew an alchemist.”

I raised a brow.

“It’s basically the birthplace of magical science,” she explained, “and one of the only places where anyone is still studying how and why spells work. Sorry, I’m a bit of an alchemy geek. I wish we had a lab in New Orleans.”

I thought of the makeshift one we’d concocted a few weeks ago at Gage Memorial and made a mental note to put the issue in front of Lach. We needed to have resources in the city.

“Let’s hope he picks up,” I muttered, hitting the video call button next to Sirius’s contact. The phone hummed a tense prelude before his image appeared on the screen.

“Hey, Cate.” Sirius’s voice was warm, but his eyes betrayed a weariness that tugged at my conscience.

“Did I wake you?” Guilt laced my words. I should have checked the time difference.

He managed a tired grin, shaking his head. “No, it’s been a long day. Was just about to call it quits for a bit and grab a bite to eat.”

“Back to the Otherworld?” I never thought I’d miss the fae world, but my stomach growled in jealousy at the idea of a blood apple.

“Yep, you caught me just in time.” His smile slipped some as he looked over my shoulder at my companion. “You okay?”

“Ah, yeah, this is Willow.” I motioned toward her, and she stepped into view.

“Hi,” Willow chimed, offering a small wave before leaning down to whisper, “He’s cute.”

I’d thought the same thing when I first met him, the combination of his rich brown skin and deep, genuine smile somewhat irresistible. But Sirius looked down, scrubbing his neck with the back of his hand. I turned toward her, keeping my voice low, even though I knew it was futile. “He’s fae, Willow. He can hear everything.”

Unfazed, she straightened up, her grin wide and unrepentant. “Don’t care, still cute.”

“So, uh, can I help you with something?” he asked, his eyes pleading to be saved before he died from embarrassment.

“We have a few spells that are acting off. Do you have a minute?” I asked. The ring on my finger suddenly felt like more than a weight. It was a shackle I couldn’t shake.

“Anything for you.”

Willow had moved behind the phone, and she clutched her chest, looking like she might swoon. She mimed writing something. I held up a finger to Sirius. “Just a sec.” I obscured the screen and mouthed, What?

“Ask if I can have his number.”

I did not have time to play matchmaker. Turning my attention back to the Astral Prince, I forced a smile. “Thank you. I feel like we’re asking a lot of you. I hope having Romy and Fiona there isn’t causing problems.”

Sirius waved his hand. “It’s been great. I really enjoy having them around,” he added, and I pressed my lips together to hold back my surprise. “It’s nice to not be alone in the lab or the library all the time.”

Willow was on the verge of death. She folded her hands together in silent entreaty.

“Good. That’s good,” I managed, forcing myself to focus on him. “Look, can you keep a secret?”

“Always,” he assured me, his eyes locking on mine through the screen.

“From… everyone ?”

The edges of his eyes crinkled before understanding hit him. I wasn’t just casually checking in on his guests. “Whatever you say will stay between us,” he promised.

Lach was going to be pissed, but what choice did we have? We needed answers. With half the city ready to revolt, we couldn’t risk being unprepared if the bona fides spell fell and Oberon struck.

Hesitantly, I lifted my hand, displaying the ring that refused to budge. “It seems to be stuck.”

His gaze fixed on the ring for an uncomfortably long moment, and my pulse thrummed in my ears. Did he recognize it as a signet? Finally, he spoke, his tone lighthearted. “Have you tried loosening it with some butter? Old trick.”

“Actually,” Willow interjected, stepping into view, “it’s a spell. One I’ve never seen before.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of surprise crossing his features. “You’re a witch?”

“Is that a problem?” she challenged, hands on her hips.

“No, no.” He held up a palm, and I felt compelled to defend him.

“Sirius isn’t prejudiced,” I said firmly, though my mind churned with worry. “She’s trying to help me with it. A couple of witches have, but they can’t seem to undo the spell,” I continued, turning the conversation back to the ring. “It’s pretty much glued to me.”

“Weird.” He leaned closer to the camera as if proximity would grant him a better look. “Usually, joining spells are linked to another object. But attaching an item to a person? That’s different. I mean, it could be useful,” he mused. “I’d never lose my keys again.”

“Is it like Lach’s memento mori?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the mention of that dark mark sending a ripple of unease through me.

“Not exactly. A memento mori is a condemnation—inescapable once branded.” He rushed to add, “From what I know, anyway, but we’re working on it.”

“Right.” Nausea swirled in my stomach. “So, you think someone was worried I would lose the ring?”

If that was the explanation after everything we’d gone through to get answers, that would be…lame.

“Could be,” he said with a nod. “It could also be for protection or occlusion—it’s often a fine line between the two. If you wanted to have someone nip you over, I could take a look.”

There was no way that was going to happen.

“Things are messy here right now.” I wondered how quickly news would spread to the other courts. The bona fides spell didn’t stop anyone from talking to people outside of New Orleans. “But I’ll let you know. What was the other spell you mentioned?”

“An occlusion spell,” he repeated. “But I bet it just comes off when it’s ready to.”

He made it sound so easy. If he only knew.

I opened my mouth to ask more, but Willow interjected, gingerly holding up a wilted tulip. It was so lifeless that it seemed an affront to nature itself. “What about this?” She waved the flower, and three petals fell off. “I had a basic eternal blooming spell on it, and bam! The magic is just gone.”

I bit my lip, my anxiety coiling tighter in my belly. Maybe it wasn’t just political tension between the covens. Maybe the city was struggling beneath the weight of the bona fides spell. If that proved to be the case, I knew what Lach would do. Suddenly, I wanted to vomit.

He studied the flower with a frown. “Even basic spells can glitch. It might just need a jump start,” he said simply, yet his eyes betrayed a hint of concern that matched my own. “Or maybe someone tried to borrow your magic and accidentally siphoned it off.”

They might as well have been speaking in code, but Willow nodded thoughtfully. Before I could ask them to explain any of what they were saying, movement flickered behind him on the screen and Romy and Fiona appeared, engrossed in their own conversation. Romy’s gaze floated over Sirius’s shoulder and brightened when she caught sight of us.

“Hey, Cate! Hi, Willow!” she chirped, leaning into view. Her smile was a welcome beam of light. “I’m glad you two connected.”

She attempted to coax Fiona forward, but Lach’s sister stormed off-screen, her departure as sudden as a gust of wind slamming a door shut. Just my existence seemed to piss her off.

“Is something wrong in Prague?” The question spilled from me.

Romy’s smile wavered, her eyes darting away for a brief moment before returning to mine. “Things are…moving slowly,” she admitted, and my heart sank. “But we may be on to something!” She glanced behind her. “I should go check on Fi. It was good to see you.”

“Everything will come together,” Sirius added smoothly. His confidence was meant to buoy us, but the tension in his shoulders told a different story. He’d meant what he said earlier about the memento mori, and if he couldn’t find a way to undo it with alchemy, what chance did we have at saving my mate’s life?

“Thank you.” I wasn’t sure that we’d learned anything groundbreaking, but his willingness to help, to open more of his home if I came knocking on his door, meant a lot to me.

“Let me know if you want to visit.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing quickly. “Your friend could come, too.”

“Will do. Catch you soon.” I ended the call before Willow could prompt me to propose to him on her behalf.

“I’m going to marry him,” she announced as soon as I set the phone down.

“As long as I’m invited,” I muttered.

The events of the last six hours sat like lead on my chest as I escorted Willow down to the lobby. She continued to ask questions about Sirius, and I answered absently, more preoccupied than ever with what to do next if neither my ring nor the memento mori could be removed.

The hotel was still fairly quiet this early in the morning, and our steps echoed in the deserted lobby, a stark reminder of the emptiness that enveloped me without Lach by my side. When we passed through the Avalon’s revolving door into the brisk morning air, his presence hit me like a sudden drop in temperature. He paused on the lowest step, his gaze frosty as it swept over Willow.

“What’s she doing here?” he demanded.

I ignored him and turned to her. “Thanks for stopping by. Don’t mind him. He forgets his manners.”

I could have sworn I felt Lach tense behind me.

Willow looked between the two of us nervously.

“Thanks for trying to help, Cate,” she said, giving me a quick hug. “I’ll keep digging for answers.”

“Let me know if you find any,” I muttered. “But be careful.”

“Don’t worry. Something’s always happening in New Orleans.” She lowered her voice to add, “This will blow over.”

As she stepped back, her eyes skipped to Lach, and with a mischievous grin, she stuck her tongue out at him while his attention was diverted. It was a playful act, so typical of Willow, but it made the contrast between the two of them even starker. She’d called him my dark one for a reason. A chill skittered down my spine as Willow waved and vanished into the waking streets.

Lach glared after her. I turned on my heel, striding back toward the Avalon. He caught up with me with a speed that betrayed his true nature, despite the human glamour he still wore. We kept our distance as we stormed toward the elevator in step with each other.

“Was that really necessary?” I demanded the moment the doors slid closed behind us. “She was just trying to help.”

Lach’s face might as well have been carved from stone. “I know. We agreed on that,” he said curtly, each word clipped. “But why did you call Sirius? What did you tell him?”

His question caught me off guard, and I faltered. “How do you even know about that?”

He pulled out his phone, waving it in the air. “My sister called me. Now answer the question. Did you tell him about the ring?”

Silence hung heavily between us. I could feel the answer sticking in my throat, the truth too dangerous to voice. But before I could muster a response, Lach exploded, his anger filling the space around us.

“What were you thinking, Cate?” he thundered.

“Sirius is my friend,” I shot back, my own temper flaring. “I trust him. He’s helped us before, Lach.”

“That was then. We can’t trust anyone now.”

“Anyone, huh?” My tone was bitter from the hurt festering inside me. “You mean you can’t trust anyone. Not even me, apparently.”

His jaw tightened, and I knew he was holding back. Tension thickened the air between us as if we both knew that every word spoken might create another fracture in our relationship.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep myself from crying, but unshed tears stung my eyes as the silence stretched into a wide chasm that seemed to separate us further with each passing second. But beneath his mask of fury, I could see the fracture lines of a fear that I shared.

My hands trembled at my sides, clenched into fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. His words echoed in my head in a relentless rhythm: We can ’ t trust anyone now. Each one felt like a slap.

Something within me shifted, my determination slipping out of place like a tectonic plate. Somehow, I knew that nothing would ever be the same. That our foundation had fundamentally altered. My gaze locked with his, and the world narrowed to the restrictive confines of the compartment.

The elevator reached our floor, and we stepped out of it. I waited for him to speak, to offer some defense, some plea that would bridge the gap between us. But he remained silent, and so did I, each of us lost to hurt and frustration.

And I’d had enough. “The worst part is that I shouldn’t have to defend my actions to you.”

Turning, I jammed the down button. The doors reopened, and I stepped through without a backward glance.

“Where are you going?” he asked, a note of panic cracking through his anger.

I didn’t answer, wouldn ’ t answer. Instead, I pushed the button for the lobby. I half expected him to follow me inside, to try to stop me from leaving, to say something .

He didn’t.