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The skin on my wrist itched at the words, as if to remind me just how changed I was. The intersecting ribbons of gold—proof of my newest bargain and one that could never be broken—were hidden beneath their own glamour, but I never forgot they were there. The mark of our handfasting—a bond sealed by fate—burned and ached on my skin, and I doubted it would calm until Cate was safely by my side.
The winged skull and crossbones held an ancient warning that every creature understood. Memento mori: remember that you will die.
“It looks like we have company.” Durant nodded to one of the security monitors above his desk. Six fae, looking like a crew of reject rock stars, approached the bar.
First, the tainted clover. Then MacAlister had made it past my security at the Nether Court after his invitation had been rescinded and attacked Cate. Was there a snake in my own garden?
The fae dealt in desire, and something told me that what Oberon wanted the most was his ego stroked.
“Our magic has been warped—cursed. Light and shadow converge. Chaos nears. We must stop it, especially now that the curse on Earth’s creatures has been lifted.”
“We’ve been looking for that ring for a long time. It disappeared with the penumbra who wore it, long before the war. But the magic that links it to the Terra Court endures.”
What terrible secret did this ring hold that two fae princes wanted it so badly?
One day I would listen to my survival instinct—or die ignoring it.
My arms wrapped around my trembling body. It was the truth, but I couldn’t deny what I’d felt in my bones. It hadn’t simply been a shock. My whole body had cried out to protect the ring at any cost. I didn’t know what that meant. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to.
The kiss was desperate and stupid, and we were probably about to get killed, but it was the only way I wanted to die: with her taste on my lips.
“Well, I guess there might be some emotional scars from telling me the man I love was dead.”
“You can question my authority. You can question my decisions. You can even question our future, but you cannot question that. I love you.”
sounds like you handled everything well.” “Of course I did. But I need a margarita, a massage, and a nap. Not necessarily in that order.” She stamped her foot.
“It’s pretty romantic,” Ciara said after the long silence, “if you think about it.” “What?” I asked, distracted by the fact that she was parked in the chief of medicine’s spot. Garcia wouldn’t like that. She unfastened her seat belt but didn’t get out of the car. “That man would die for you and smile with his last breath.”
“You can’t choose someone else’s path. You can only choose if you’re willing to walk alongside them.”
“I was hoping to find my answer at the bottom of that bottle.” I tugged free of his hold, half lurching out of the tub to grab it. “No one finds answers at the bottom of a bottle.”
“Sometimes I think the costume industry was taken over by the porn industry,” she admitted with a laugh. “That’s why I try to shop from the back of the store. At least the costumes there are handmade. What do you want to be?” Normal. I bit back my answer.
“Maybe you two should be Romeo and Juliet,” she suggested. “It would be romantic.” I raised a brow. “Two idiots doomed to die because they’re impatient? Sounds like a great choice.” And maybe a little closer to reality than I was comfortable admitting to her.
Well, they’ve got everything from pumpkins to squirrels here. Squirrels? There has to be something better than that. I smiled. What about a garden gnome? Clearly, I can’t trust you.
Ciara snorted when she saw its tag: authentic eighteenth century, owned by a real pirate! “I bet you a million dollars this was never owned by a real pirate. Please, please, please make my brother wear this.” She giggled, grabbing it from the hanger and attempting to thrust it into my arms. “He can plunder your booty.”
“This place looks like it should be condemned. There’s going to be an orgy here. Is that even sanitary?”
“In 1838, I mistook a woman for a werewolf on Bourbon Street and tackled her.” Not the worst of the tales, but I still grimaced at the memory. “How did you do that?” Cate asked, laughing. “In my defense, her fur coat looked like it was trying to swallow her,” I said, smiling a bit despite myself, “and I was also very drunk.”
A vampire, a fae, and a human walked into a bar… What were the chances?
But underneath my skepticism, a current of fear ran deep. I’d seen the truth. Magic was real, and so were its consequences.
“Should something be happening?” Her scowl deepened. “Oh, so you’re one of those rush-the-magic types. I hope for Cate’s sake you’re more patient in bed.”
“A werewolf, a familiar, a human, and a vampire,” Willow said slowly, her relief vanishing. “Who else is keyed to the spell?” “Fae,” I said quietly. “The strongest magical line in New Orleans.”
