Serpent & Dove
Page 39
He sank to the ground, pulling me down with him. But I hadn’t finished yet. He’d risked everything for me by coming to the Chateau. He’d abandoned his life—his very beliefs—when he chose me. I didn’t deserve it. But I thanked God anyway.
“After I pulled you through that curtain,” I whispered, “I said you should’ve expected me to behave like a criminal. I didn’t tell you I was a witch because I was following my own advice. I expected you to behave like a Chasseur—only you didn’t. You didn’t kill me. You let me go.” I moved to drop my hand, but he caught it, holding it to his face.
His voice was thick with emotion. “I should’ve come after you.”
I brought my other hand to his face as well and leaned closer. “I shouldn’t have lied.”
He took a shuddering breath. “I—I said terrible things.”
“Yes.” I frowned slightly, remembering. “You did.”
“I didn’t mean any of them—except one.” His hands covered my own on his face, and his eyes bored into mine as if he could see into my very soul. Perhaps he could. “I love you, Lou.” His eyes welled with fresh tears. “I—I’ve never seen anyone savor anything the way you do everything. You make me feel alive. Just being in your presence—it’s addictive. You’re addictive. It doesn’t matter you’re a witch. The way you see the world . . . I want to see it that way too. I want to be with you always, Lou. I never want to be parted from you again.”
I couldn’t stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. “Where you go, I will go.”
With deliberate slowness, I pressed my lips to his.
I managed to walk back by myself, but my body tired quickly.
When we finally reached the camp, the others were preparing dinner. Coco tended a small fire, and Madame Labelle dispersed the smoke into thin air with her fingers. Two fat rabbits sizzled on the spit. My stomach contracted, and I pressed a fist to my mouth before I could puke again.
Ansel saw us first. A wide grin split his face, and he dropped the pot he held and raced toward us, enveloping me as best he could in a fierce hug. Reid reluctantly let me go, and I returned Ansel’s embrace with equal fervor.
“Thank you,” I whispered in his ear. “For everything.”
He blushed pink as he stepped away, but he kept a firm arm around my waist regardless. Reid looked as if he were trying very hard not to smile.
Beau leaned against a tree with his arms folded across his chest. “You know, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said we could have fun together, Madame Diggory.”
I arched a brow, remembering his naked chest shimmying in the moonlight. “Oh, I don’t know. I thought parts of the evening were entertaining.”
He grinned. “You enjoyed the performance, then?”
“Very much. It would seem we frequent the same pubs.”
Madame Labelle’s fingers still moved lazily through the air. The smallest trickle of magic streamed from them as the smoke disappeared. “I hate to interrupt, but our rabbits are burning.”
Beau’s smile vanished, and he leapt to slide the blackened rabbits off the spit, moaning bitterly. “Took me ages to catch these.”
Coco rolled her eyes. “You mean to watch me catch them.”
“Excuse me?” He lifted the smaller of the two rabbits indignantly. “I shot this one, thank you very much!”
“Yes, you did—right through the leg. I had to track the poor creature down and put it out of its misery.”
When Beau opened his mouth to reply, eyes blazing, I turned to Reid. “Did I miss something?”
“They’ve been like this ever since we left,” Ansel said. I didn’t miss the satisfaction in his voice or the smirk on his face.
“The prince had some trouble adjusting to the wilderness,” Reid explained quietly. “Coco was . . . unimpressed.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. As the argument escalated, however—with no sign of either party backing down—I waved my hand to reclaim their attention. “Excuse me,” I said loudly. Both whirled to look at me. “As entertaining as all this is, we have more important matters to discuss.”
“Such as?” Beau snapped.
Ass. I almost grinned, but at the ferocity of Coco’s scowl, I caught myself at the last second. “We can’t hide in this forest forever. Morgane knows all your faces now, and she’ll kill every one of you for helping me escape.”
Beau scoffed. “My father will have her head on a pike when he learns what she’s planning.”
“And mine,” I said pointedly.
“Probably.”
Definite ass.
Madame Labelle sighed. “Auguste has failed to capture Morgane for decades—just as his ancestors failed to capture a single Dame des Sorcières in their long and gruesome history. It’s highly unlikely he succeeds now either. She’ll continue to remain a threat to all of us.”
“But now the Chasseurs know the location of the Chateau,” Reid pointed out.
“They still can’t enter without a witch.”
“They did before.”
“Ah . . . yes.” Madame Labelle cleared her throat delicately and looked away, smoothing her wrinkled, bloodstained skirt. “That’s because I led them to it.”
“You what?” Reid stiffened beside me, and a telltale flush crept up his throat. “You—you met with Jean Luc? Are you insane? How? When?”
“After I sent you lot off with those twittering triplets.” She shrugged, bending low to scratch the blackened log at her feet. When it moved, blinking open luminous yellow eyes, my heart nearly leapt to my throat. That wasn’t a log. That wasn’t even a cat. That—that was a—
“The matagot delivered a message to your comrades shortly after our disagreement. Jean Luc was less than pleased by a demon waltzing around in his mind, but even he couldn’t ignore the opportunity I presented him. We met on the beach outside the Chateau, and I led them within the enchantment. They were supposed to wait for my signal. When I didn’t reappear, Jean Luc took matters into his own hands.” She touched the crusty bodice of her gown as if remembering the feel of Morgane’s knife sinking into her chest. My throat throbbed with empathy. “And thank the Goddess he did.”
“Yes,” I agreed quickly before Reid could interrupt. His flush had spread from his throat to the tips of his ears during Madame Labelle’s explanation, and he looked likely to further derail the conversation by throttling someone. “But we’re worse off now than we were before.”
“Why?” Ansel’s brow wrinkled. “The Chasseurs killed dozens of witches. Surely Morgane is weaker now, at least?”
“Perhaps,” Madame Labelle murmured, “but a wounded animal is a dangerous beast.”
When Ansel still looked puzzled, I squeezed his waist. “Everything that happened—everything we did—it’ll only make her more savage. The other witches, too. This war is anything but over.”
A foreboding silence descended as my words sank in.
“Right,” Coco said, lifting her chin. “There’s only one thing for it. You’ll all come back to my coven with me. Morgane won’t be able to touch you there.”
“Coco . . .” I met her gaze reluctantly. She set her jaw and planted a hand on her hip in response. “They’re just as likely to kill us as they are to help us.”
“They won’t. You’ll be under my protection. None of my kin will dare lay a hand on you.”
There was another pause as we stared at each other.
“You don’t have many other options, Louise, dear,” Madame Labelle finally said. “Even Morgane isn’t foolhardy enough to attack you in the heart of a blood coven, and Auguste and the Chasseurs would never find you there.”
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Reid asked, frowning. The back of his neck nearly blended into his coppery hair, and his hands remained clenched. Tense. I coaxed his fist open with a gentle brush of my knuckle, lacing my fingers through his. He took a deep breath and relaxed slightly.
“No.” Madame Labelle swallowed hard, and the matagot rubbed its head
against her knee in a startling domestic gesture. “Though it’s been years since I’ve seen him, I think . . . I think it’s finally time I had a conversation with Auguste.”
Beau frowned. “You would have to be a complete idiot to tell him you’re a witch.”
Reid and I glared at him, but Madame Labelle only lifted an elegant shoulder, unruffled. “Well, it is good I’m not a complete idiot, then. You will come with me, of course. I can’t just waltz into the castle anymore. Together, we might be able to persuade Auguste against whatever harebrained scheme he’s undoubtedly concocting.”
“What makes you think you’ll be able to persuade him to do anything?”
“He loved me once.”
“Yes. I’m sure my mother will be thrilled to hear all about it.”
“I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand.” Ansel shook his head in bewilderment and looked to Coco. “Why do you think we’ll be safe with your coven? If Morgane is as dangerous as everyone says . . . will they really be able to protect us?”
Coco barked a short laugh. “You don’t know who my aunt is, do you?”
Ansel’s brows furrowed. “No.”
“Then allow me to enlighten you.” Her grin stretched wide, and in the dying sunlight, her eyes seemed to glow brilliant crimson. “My aunt is the witch La Voisin.”
Reid groaned audibly. “Shit.”
Acknowledgments
This story passed through many hands before publication, which means I have many people to thank for helping me shape it into something special.
To my husband, RJ—I quite literally couldn’t have written Serpent & Dove without you. Thank you for your patience throughout this entire journey—for every night you brushed the boys’ teeth and tucked them into bed when I was writing, and for every weekend you retreated with them to the basement when I was banging my head against my laptop. For all the dishes and laundry you washed when I was revising, and for all the emergency grocery runs you made when I ran out of 5-Hour Energy. You’ll never know how much your support means to me. I love you. (P.S. You’re now holding my book in your hands, which means . . . IT’S OFFICIALLY TIME TO READ IT.)
To my children, Beau, James, and Rose—If I can do it, so can you. Follow your dreams.
To my parents, Zane and Kelly—You fostered my love of reading, and more important, you fostered my love of myself. Without your praise—and your total confidence in my abilities—I never would’ve mustered up the courage to pursue publication. I can’t thank you enough for your unconditional love and support.
To my siblings, Jacob, Justin, Brooke, Chelsy, and Lewie—It would’ve been hard to take an eight-year-old writing poetry about Peter Pan seriously, but you always did. You never laughed at my writing dreams. Your enthusiasm means everything to me.
To my parents-in-law, Dave and Pattie: Thank you for all those days you volunteered to watch the boys. We love you.
To my forever friends Jordan, Spencer, Meghan, Aaron, Adrianne, Chelsea, Riley, Courtney, Austin, and Jon—Thank you for celebrating my weirdness and sticking around despite it. Life is hard—and publishing is harder—but I know you’ll always have my back. See you at the party barn!
To my first critique partners, Katie and Carolyn—As the very first people to believe in my story, you two will always hold a special place in my heart. Thank you for your encouragement and critique—as well as talking me through my writer’s block, helping me untangle complicated subplots, and reminding me these characters are special. Because of you, I finished my first draft; Serpent & Dove wouldn’t be here today without you.
To my first beta readers, Mystique_ballerina, Somethings-Here, fashionablady, BadlandsQueenHalsey, drowsypug, Djwestwood, Arzoelyn, Mishi_And_Books, reaweiger, lcholland-82700, laia233, saturday—, JuliaBattles, and BluBByGrl—Thank you for all your views, comments, and messages. I appreciated every single one.
To Brenda Drake, Heather Cashman, and the entire Pitch Wars team—Your incredible mentorship program ignited my writing career. Thank you.
To my Pitch Wars mentor, Jamie Howard—Without your vision, Serpent & Dove would be a much different story—and not in a good way. Thank you for believing in me and my story, and thank you for all the time and energy you devoted to us.
To my critique partners and sisters, Abby and Jordan—I adore you both. You came into my life at a critical juncture, and though we started as critique partners, we’re so much more now. I consider you both sisters. Thank you for walking beside me on this crazy journey, holding my hand when I was unsure, and encouraging me to continue when it would’ve been easier to turn back. Writing can be an incredibly isolating career, but you make me feel less alone.
To my writing friends Lindsay Bilgram, Madeline Johnston, Destiny Murtaugh, Abigail Carson, Kate Weiler, Jessica Bibi Cooper, Hannah Whitten, Layne Fargo, Allison L. Bitz, Laura Taylor Namey, Monica Borg, E.K. Thiede, Kimberly Vale, Elora Cook, Christina Wise, Isabel Cañas, Kylie Schachte, Luke Hupton, Rachel Simon, and Lily Grant—Thank you for being such a supportive online community. You’re all wonderful, and I’m so grateful I stumbled upon each of you when I did.
To my Francophile, Catherine Bakewell—Your knowledge of the French language and culture enriched this story—especially those curse words! Lou and I are forever indebted to your foul mouth.
To my wonderful agent, Sarah Landis—I knew about three seconds into our first phone call that you were the agent for me. Your enthusiasm is contagious, and more important, you have this knack for putting me at ease—a difficult feat for a worrier like me! Your transparency and general warmth have been invaluable as I navigate the publishing industry. Thank you for always being in my corner.
To my agent siblings, Erin A. Craig, Jessica Rubinkowski, Meredith Tate, Julie Abe, Jennie K. Brown, Ron Walters, Elisabeth Funk—Your publishing knowledge and experiences have been such an important resource for me. Thank you for sharing your insight and encouragement!
To my beta readers, Erin Cotter, Margie Fuston, Megan McGee Lysaght, Lindsey Ouimet, Kylie Schachte, Emily Taylor, E. K. Thiede, Carol Topdjian, Kimberly Vale, and Christina Wise—I can’t thank you enough for taking the time to read early versions of Serpent & Dove. Your feedback—both the praise and the critique—was vital in shaping this story.
To my phenomenal editor, Erica Sussman—I’ll never find the right words to thank you for your unending patience and vision. As a writer, there’s always a small fear in handing your story to someone else. After our first brainstorming session, however, that fear disappeared. I trust you with my story completely—from my characters to my magic system to my world building. You are a true rock star. Thank you for loving this story as much as I do.
To my team at HarperTeen, Sarah Kaufman, Alison Donalty, Jessie Gang, Alexandra Rakaczki, Ebony LaDelle, Michael D’Angelo, Bess Braswell, Olivia Russo, Kris Kam, and Louisa Currigan—Thank you for believing in this story. I’ve been blown away by your skill time and time again, and I consider myself unbelievably lucky to be surrounded by such a talented team. Thank you for fulfilling my lifelong dream.
About the Author
Courtesy Shelby Mahurin
SHELBY MAHURIN grew up on a small farm in rural Indiana, where sticks became wands and cows became dragons. Her rampant imagination didn’t fade with age, so she continues to play make-believe every day—with words now instead of cows. When not writing, Shelby watches The Office and reads voraciously. She still lives near that childhood farm with her very tall husband and semiferal children. Serpent & Dove is her debut novel. Visit her online at www.shelbymahurin.com.
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Copyright
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
SERPENT & DOVE. Copyright © 2019 by Shelby Mahurin. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
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Cover art © 2019 by Katt Phatt
Cover design by Sarah Nichole Kaufman
Library of Congress Control Number: 2019939331
Digital Edition SEPTEMBER 2019 ISBN: 978-0-06-287804-5
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-287802-1 — ISBN 978-0-06-297710-6 (special ed)
ISBN 978-0-06-297113-5 (intl ed)
1920212223PC/LSCH10987654321
FIRST EDITION
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