Page 16

The tavern was a stark contrast to the chaos they’d left behind in London.

Warm candlelight flickered across the worn wooden beams, casting long shadows over the room.

The air was thick with the mingling scents of smoke, spiced mead, and the faint, metallic tang of magic.

Celise walked into the room with the confidence of someone who owned the very ground beneath her feet. Her long cloak billowed behind her.

The low murmur of conversation ceased as the patrons turned to look at her.

Elves, fae, trolls, and other supernatural beings filled the dimly lit space, their wary gazes flickering from Celise to her sisters.

Suspicion hung heavy in the air and mingled with the faint hum of latent power that pulsed through the room.

In places like these, where dark magic was the power of choice, there was little trust and no honor among thieves, so to speak.

Everyone assumed someone would stab them in the back.

The tight smiles, slight head nods, or a lifting of the chin was simply a way for them to say, “I’m not going to stab you right now .

” Not that any of these beings would challenge her.

They knew who she was and what she possessed.

Had possessed. She reminded herself that she no longer had the Nushtonia .

But it was possible that no one here knew that.

Regardless, she was still more powerful than anyone present. She could feel it.

Crestia entered next, a smug grin tugging at her lips as she surveyed the crowd. “Looks cozy.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm.

Limaria followed, her silver hair catching the candlelight as she folded her arms. Behind her, Thraya and Hishta lingered near the portal, their unease palpable. Thraya’s eyes swept over the room, her posture tense, while Hishta moved quietly, her amber gaze darting between the unfamiliar faces.

Celise stopped in the center of the room.

Her gaze locked onto a tall elf seated near the bar.

His sharp features were illuminated by the faint glow of the candle in front of him, and his dark hair was tied in a loose braid.

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze cool and calculating as he met Celise’s stare.

“An unexpected guest,” he said cautiously. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen you.” He glanced at her sisters. “And those aren’t who used to tag along with you. What happened to the delicious little healer? And to what do we owe the pleasure, Celise?”

Celise smiled slowly. “There’s no need to lie, Felspar. You take no pleasure in my appearance. Regardless, I am here because I need a favor.” Her casual tone was laced with authority.

Felspar raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “A favor? From me? That usually comes with a price.”

“Everything has a price,” Celise replied, stepping closer. “And I’m prepared to pay it.”

The elf’s smirk faltered slightly, and his gaze flickered to the sisters behind her. “What kind of favor are we talking about?”

Celise’s voice dropped and became cold and commanding.

“I need my sisters restored. Their powers, their strength—it seems somehow they’ve lost them.

And as we both know there isn’t much that blood magic can’t do if you have the knowledge.

It is no secret that you dabble in such art. Do you know how to do it?”

A ripple of unease passed through the room.

The hum of conversations that had started back up again once her attention focused on the elf now halted, and the patrons exchanged wary glances.

Blood magic wasn’t just dangerous—it was volatile, unpredictable, and deeply taboo among most supernaturals.

And it certainly wasn’t talked about out in the open, no matter if the tavern was a place that creatures of the dark spent their time.

Felspar leaned forward, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Restoring power through blood magic isn’t simple. It takes, well, to put it bluntly, a hell of a lot of blood and power to generate the spell. And the cost?—”

“Is irrelevant,” Celise snapped. “I didn’t come here for a lecture. I came for results. So are you going to help me, or do I need to find someone else?”

The elf hesitated. His expression was unreadable as he studied her.

Finally, he sighed and leaned back in his chair.

“I can help you. But even if it doesn’t bother you”—he looked at her sisters again—“it might bother them. Blood magic demands sacrifice—life for life and power for power. And if you’re not careful, the spell can backfire and destroy you. ”

Crestia snorted, crossing her arms. “We’ve already been dead, remember? How could it be any worse than that?”

Felspar shot her a sharp look. “There are worse things than death, sprite.”

Celise’s patience was wearing thin, and the edges of her smile hardened. “Enough.” Her voice cut through their bickering. She turned back to the elf, narrowing her eyes. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll make it happen.”

“We haven’t discussed payment yet,” he said coolly. “I won’t move forward until you’ve vowed to give me what I want in exchange for my assistance.”

Celise wanted to smack the smirk off the elf’s face, but that would be counterproductive. “Fine, what is it you want?”

The elf hesitated for a moment, then he lowered his voice and leaned forward as he spoke. “I want the Elf Prince, now King, Thalion, dead.” He scrutinized Celise’s face, as though looking for some sort of shock, disgust, or maybe he thought she’d actually care.

What did it matter to her who sat on the elf throne?

Then again, Thalion was one of Fane’s minions, a do-gooder.

It actually would be to her benefit for another to take his place, perhaps even Felspar.

Her lips turned up slightly as she remembered that Thalion was one of the members of Fane’s pack that she sent away, locking him into another realm.

It was going to be difficult to kill him, considering she had no plans of ever opening any of those veils, other than the one to the Realm of the Dead.

“That might be a tad, well, impossible.”

Felspar frowned. “I know he’s powerful, but every species has a weakness.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying I couldn’t kill him.

It’s impossible because I’ve sealed his ass, and the rest of Fane’s vagabond pack, in various realms. I scattered them through veils and locked them inside.

I can’t kill him because I can’t get to him.

Pick something else.” She gestured with her hand for him to continue.

The elf didn’t look particularly happy at the news, though Celise didn’t know why. “He can’t get back in the human realm. That’s practically the same thing as dead.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, in the supernatural world, things that are supposed to stay gone seem to somehow always find their way back,” Felspar said through clenched teeth. “So pardon me if I don’t agree with you.”

Celise crossed her arms in front of her and reminded herself that she wanted the elf’s help. It wouldn’t help anything if she strangled him. Well, not true. It would help with her mood. “Pick. Something. Else.” Her patience was worn as thin as a threadbare blanket.

“I’ll take an IOU,” he finally said, after several heartbeats. “No restrictions on time, place, person, or thing. When I call you for payment, you pay up.” He leaned back in his seat, resting an arm on the back of the booth and looking quite pleased with himself.

Celise didn’t like it. Not one bit. But she owed her sisters their power back, and she would restore it to them. She gave him a sharp nod.

A smile stretched across his face, and he smoothly pushed up to his feet. He towered over Celise and her sisters, but she wasn’t intimidated. She knew what she was capable of. Granted the djinn had been an issue, but an elf? No problem.

“Very well. We do a blood oath first. I don’t want you backing out of your end of the deal.

” He motioned for them to follow him, and they headed to the back of the tavern.

They reached a set of stairs. Torches on the wall lit up the narrow space.

“I live here,” he told them. “And I had a fae put a protective spell around my apartment. Nothing from inside can be heard outside of the walls.”

Crestia's face scrunched up as she looked at the closed door. “What the hell are you doing in that apartment that requires a silencing spell?”

Felspar’s grin was positively wicked. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Crestia’s face went blank. “Duh. That’s why I asked.”

Celise snapped her fingers at the two. “Less talking. We’ve got business to get done.”

The elf led them into the small apartment.

Celise didn’t bother to take in her surroundings.

She didn’t care. She wanted to get this done.

After pulling a small dagger from her cloak, Celise ran it across the palm of her hand.

Crimson blood immediately welled up from the cut. She stared at Felspar expectantly.

He pulled out his own blade from a sheath on his leg, cut his palm, then held it out to her.

She took it, letting their blood mingle.

“I give my binding oath that I will answer Felspar’s summons when he calls in the favor I owe him.

If I do not fulfill my promise, I will die.

I accept the terms of the blood oath.” A sharp sting ran up her arm as the magic sealed her promise.

Felspar nodded as he released her hand. “Now, we need four supernatural beings with some decent amount of power. You’ll be able to sense if they’re using blood magic?”

Celise nodded. “The Book of the Dead has given me many advantages.” She heard the smugness in her voice, and it annoyed her because she really didn’t have anything to be smug about. She’d lost the damn book.