Page 9

9

E velyn woke up the next day like she was rising from the dead. The late afternoon sun drew lines on the wall through the blinds, and the overhead fan hummed lazily. She rolled over onto her back and stared up at it, trying to orient herself. The ache in the back of her skull had dulled and her eyes felt swollen and puffy from all the crying, but she was alive. And, at least for the time being, safe.

A large glass of water sat on the bedside table, and she drained it in long swallows as she read the note Valen had left her.

Gone to check in with Denmark and try a few more exits out of the city.

I’ll be back by sundown. There’s coffee and leftovers in the kitchen.

Please don’t leave.

V.

Evelyn stretched and forced herself to get up. A wave of sorrow hit her—she missed the sisters. They were always there when she woke up in the morning, full of purrs and sleepy mews. She hated being away from them even for a few days.

By the time she’d showered again and washed down a couple of leftover wontons with two cups of strong black coffee, the sun was setting. She peered through the front blinds. Where was Valen?

She pulled out her phone and sent him a text.

“ I got your note. It’s past sundown. Everything okay?”

As if in response, the sound of his motorcycle pulling into the neighborhood reached her ears. Intense relief washed over her. She was used to being alone, but she had to admit it was nice to have an ally right now. He came in through the back door a few minutes later, this time carrying a large takeout bag featuring a pig wearing a crown. She couldn’t tell if he looked disappointed or relieved that she was no longer wearing his robe.

“Sorry I’m late. The line was crazy.” He set the bag on the counter and started pulling out containers. “How’d you sleep?”

She climbed onto a stool next to the counter and started peeking into the food containers. “Like the dead. I’m half surprised I woke up at all.”

He grunted his agreement. “You look more alive, if that counts for anything.”

“Thanks. Any luck finding a way out of town?”

“None. At this point, I think it’s safe to assume the entire city limits are covered. I walked a half hour along the barrier to the north, far from any road, and it just kept going. You ever try a Texas Twinkie?”

She shook her head.

“Oh, you are about to come back to life for the second time today.” He opened one of the containers and handed her something vaguely cylindrical wrapped in bacon. “That right there is a Texas Twinkie. Big ass jalapeno stuffed with smoked cream cheese and brisket then wrapped in bacon.” He watched her expectantly until she relented and took a big bite.

Evelyn fought back a moan. The bacon was crispy and salty, the jalapeno was tooth-tender and mellowed by the cooking. The cream cheese and brisket combo was savory and indulgent. It was delicious. She wanted twelve of them.

“Well?” he prompted.

“Life changed.”

“I knew it!” He grinned and took a bite out of one, finishing half of it in one go. “You want a beer?”

“Water, please. I think I’m going to need my wits about me tonight.”

He got up to get their drinks. “Fair enough. I’ll have water too.” He set two glasses of ice water down and rejoined her at the counter. “Denmark is continuing to spiral. He is quickly turning into a mad king just at the thought of owning that book. If I wasn’t already convinced that you did the right thing in making the swap, I am now. He’s going crazy with perceived power.”

Evelyn helped herself to a couple of smoked ribs and some potato salad. Valen’s fridge might have been disappointing, but the man had excellent taste in takeout. “That’s what I was afraid of. I don’t know what kind of influence this book might have after sustained contact, either. It’s… dark.”

“That reminds me. I have something for you. I left it in my saddle bags. Be right back.” He returned a few minutes later with what looked like a leather satchel. He held it out to her. “Merry Christmas.”

Evelyn wiped her fingers on a napkin before accepting the bag. The leather was soft and pliable but sturdy and well-oiled. Fine iron buckles sealed the top flap into place. Subtle runes and wards were carved into the leather around seams and creases. The inside smelled of incense and was lined with a fabric unlike anything Evelyn had seen before. It glowed bright with an opalescent shine, clear and true. She traced her fingers along the surface and felt goosebumps race up her arms. “What is this lining? It looks like fabric, but it feels strange.”

Valen answered her around a bite of cornbread. “No idea. All they would tell me is that it was woven from strong magic—the kind that could counter the darkest curses imaginable.”

“Where did you get it?” It was wondrous, but if he’d revealed anything about the book and whoever he’d told couldn’t be trusted, her safety meter just dipped. A lot.

“Sorry, can’t tell you that either. My supplier likes to stay anonymous. I didn’t tell them anything specific, just said Denmark was dabbling in some dark shit, and I wanted a way to transport the goods that wouldn’t trigger every sniffer in the county.”

Evelyn relaxed a little. “As far as anyone knows, that’s true.”

“Exactly.” He polished off his cornbread muffin and reached for another savory Twinkie. “I thought maybe the satchel would allow us to pass through the barrier, but I think it’s too complex for that. Your whole body was blocked by the wall when the book was in the box. This satchel is comparable to the box, but I doubt it surpasses it. I mean, maybe, but I don’t think so.”

He was right. This satchel would make carrying the book on her person a lot easier. It was clearly stronger than her existing bag and far less cumbersome than the box. But if that box with all its layers of protection hadn’t been enough to elude the sniffers or the barrier, then there was no reason to suspect that this satchel could. Their eyes met and Evelyn said what they were both thinking.

“I can’t just stay here indefinitely.”

He looked down at his plate. “You could.”

She put her hand on his forearm where it rested on the counter. “I can’t, Valen. You’re kind to offer, but you know the book won’t be safe here forever. Eventually Denmark will figure out that he doesn’t have the right book, and the first thing he’ll do is come looking for me. He has all kinds of connections in this city, and what he doesn’t already have, he’ll buy. Then, if he makes enough noise, people with real power will come sniffing around. Maybe they already are. Think about it—who do you think has enough power to maintain a barrier around the whole of New Orleans?”

“The Lybbestre.” He whispered the name reluctantly.

Evelyn cringed. It was what she’d meant, but it felt like blaming the boogeyman when something goes bump in the night. It made sense, sure—but was it likely? The Lybbestre were the oldest and most powerful coven in the city. Maybe the world. Would they involve themselves in something as mundane as a stolen book? If it were powerful enough, they would , she thought, answering her own question.

“Yeah,” she said aloud. “And if it is them, then my window of escape is so narrow I’m sure it even exists.”

Valen gathered up the empty containers and cleared all the trash away. “Where will you go?”

Evelyn hesitated. She’d been mulling it over ever since she woke up. If she couldn’t go through, around, or over the barrier, she would go under.

“The Dark City.”

The Dark City was the name given to the second New Orleans that existed beneath the one everyone else was familiar with. Scientifically impossible and magically maintained, the underground metropolis consisted of interconnected but independent districts that were maintained by various magic users. They were reached through a series of catacombs and tunnels. Some districts were relatively safe. Others were not. Evelyn had only ever been in the antechamber. Witches of her low caliber didn’t enter the Dark City. Not if they liked being alive, which she very much did.

Valen didn’t respond right away. He leaned his forearms on the counter and hung his head.

“I don’t expect you to go with me.”

He laughed harshly without looking up. “Oh, I’m going with you.”

“Valen, it’s one step above suicide.”

“I know, and I’m going.” He clenched his fists. “I’m trying to think of something, anything else.”

“I don’t think there is anything else,” she said quietly. “Believe me, I wish there were. But if there isn’t a way through the barrier, then?—”

“We have to try going under.” He groaned again.

“Yeah.”

“When do you want to leave?”

“Tonight. I need to stop by my apartment—there are things I’ll need down there that I didn’t think to bring with me when I thought I was going to ride out of town scot-free.”

“That’s risky.”

“I know.” Evelyn crossed her arms over her chest, frustrated. All of this was dangerous. Every last bit of it. There were no safe choices left on the table. Her only hope now was to take the right risks. She sounded terse when she continued, “Right now, entering the Dark City without the right supplies is riskier than going home. Tomorrow, that might not be true. But tonight, it is, so I’m going. We should leave before it gets any later. The witching hour is not our friend tonight.”

She came back downstairs a few minutes later to find Valen waiting in the living room, a small duffel bag strapped across his back. He had changed into a black t-shirt and dark jeans. A tactical belt was cinched around his hips, featuring several pouches of various sizes, a large knife sheath, and a gun holster. He looked both ready to go into battle and incredibly hot. Her pulse quickened, and she scolded her body for even considering such things right now. They had much larger concerns than Valen’s undeniable sex appeal.

“You sure you don’t just want to see your cats?” His tone was tinged with an apology in the shape of humor.

“You’re damn right I want to see my cats.”