Page 106 of Samhain Savior

Leaning into his touch, I let him feel the way his words affected me, sending my happiness and gratitude through the bond, and was rewarded when his eyes softened, just a little, but enough to let me know he’d felt it.

And he liked it.

“Alright,” I said, turning to Mex, a new resolve straightening my spine. “What do you need me to do?”

Chapter forty-nine

Delilah

“Don’t look at me,” Mex snapped, her hands in the air like she wanted no part in what we were doing. “Your man over there is the one with the grand plans.”

“You will do whatever you normally did to locate a soul in the Pit and converse with it,” Archer said condescendingly. “Only this time, you need to be touching Delilah when you do it.”

“Touching her? That’s all? What is she, some kind of wi-fi booster?”

Vine snorted, the sound ending in a choked cough when Corson elbowed him in the gut. Above us, Mal snapped his beak from where he was perched on the head of a carved gargoyle, his talons digging into the creature’s eyes, and I gave him a smile.

“More like a conduit,” Archer added, scowling at Vine. “It’s only a theory, but one I believe will work.”

Mex considered, pursing her lips in that way she did, before finally shrugging.

“Alright. It’s your quest. What the fuck do I care if it doesn’t work?” Her words sounded dismissive, but she was looking at me with eager eyes. I could imagine she had been missing having access to her ability; the idea that touching me could bring it back to her, even temporarily, must have been enticing.

Moving toward Baptiste’s coffin, Mex hefted the glass lid, the heavy piece coming off the top easily with her supernatural strength. Setting it aside, she stood over the coffin, staring down at the dead man inside with something like derision in her expression before she looked at me.

“I usually have to search for a few minutes before I’m able to locate the soul I’m looking for. It may take longer, seeing as how I haven’t been down there in a while.”

Reaching out, she laid one hand in the center of Baptiste’s chest, and I cringed as a puff of dust swirled into the air when her fingers disturbed the fabric of his ancient suit. Not taking her gaze off the corpse, she held her other hand out to me and let out a slow exhale.

Mex was eerily still, not even appearing to breathe, as she tilted her head back, her fingers still hanging in the air before me, but I hesitated.

The last time I did this, I ended up accidentally transporting Archer and myself to the Void. What would happen if I did that again? How would I get back without him to guide me?

“Delilah,” Archer soothed, feeling my anxiety through the bond and sending me reassurance from his side. “Breathe.”

Blowing out a breath, following his firm but gentle instructions as I squared my shoulders and raised my own hand, resting it against Mex’s upturned palm.

The second our hands touched she let out a scream so violent, I thought she might have been injured. Terrified I’d hurt her, I yanked my hand back, scrambling away, but she spun on me, snatching my hand back and grasping it in her own so tightly my fingers ached.

But I didn’t say a word.

Archer tensed, his body poised to move if there was even a hint of danger to me, and just knowing he was there eased some of my own tension.

“How?” Mex asked, staring at our joined hands before looking at me with unshed tears in her eyes. “How is this possible?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know how I’m doing it.”

“Fuck,” she breathed, the dark irises of her eyes turning a cloudy gray color as her magic took over. I could feel the weight of her power, sitting heavy on my chest as she smiled wide, her expression joyous. “It feels so fucking good to be home.”

Fingers shaking, Mex replaced her palm back on Baptiste’s corpse, sending up yet another cloud of dust and other suspicious particles, which I did my best not to inhale.

Gritting her teeth, Mex slowly unveiled her magic, the power of it feeling like lightning in my veins. I stared at her, the tendons in her neck standing out with the strain she was under, her dark eyes now milky and darting from side to side, as though she was looking around, seeing things that we couldn’t see.

Realizing that she actuallywasseeing what I couldn’t sent a chill down my spine. Above me, Mal cawed softly, his wings flapping in agitation. Pandora, too, was restless, shifting and clamoring about in her pouch, and I wished I could let her out, but there was no way I could break the connection with Mex, so she’d just have to be patient.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Mex smiled, her grin looking absolutely diabolical as she dropped her gaze to thecorpse before us, her hand curling into a fist in his ragged suit.

“Welcome back, Jean-François. It’s been a long time.”