Exhaling hard through my nose, I gripped his shoulders and leaned over him.
Here goes nothing.
My lips brushed his in a light caress, and I parted them slowly, touching his tongue to mine. Just for a second. Just a single breath. My eyes fell closed at the simple joy of it—of kissing Reid. God, I missed him. For too long, our lives had been tangled yet separate, intrinsically linked yet forever apart. It was my fault. It was his too.
But mostly, it was Morgane’s.
He didn’t wake.
Sighing in defeat, I rested my head against his chest and listened to his heart. How many times had I lain in this exact position, counting each beat? He’d often stroked my hair, traced my spine, even when things had been strained between us. When things had been good, however, he’d wrapped his strong arms around me and—
A heavy hand fell upon my back.
My eyes snapped open.
Behind me, Célie gasped, Coco gasped—even Beau gasped—as I scrambled to my elbows, staring down at Reid’s face in shock. He blinked back at me, and those eyes—they were the most beautiful shade of blue. Giddy laughter bubbled up my throat at his frown. “Sleeping beauty awakes.”
His hands landed lightly on my waist. “I beg your pardon?”
Skimming a fingertip along his dark lashes, I leaned down to kiss him once more. He drew back before I could. “You slept for a while, Chass. We worried you wouldn’t wake up.” I chuckled and brushed my nose against his. His brows puckered. “You aren’t going to believe where we’ve been.” I didn’t pause for him to guess. “We went underwater, Reid. To the seafloor of L’Eau Mélancolique. You were there too, of course, just unconscious.” My thoughts whirled in an incoherent blur of excitement. Where to begin? So much had happened in such a short period of time. “We walked with melusines in Le Présage—did you know they can grow legs?—and we dined with the Oracle in Le Palais de Cristal. The Oracle is Claud’s sister, remember? Isla. We met Isla, and she was the world’s biggest bitch—”
He stiffened abruptly, and his frown deepened to an outright scowl. “My apologies, mademoiselle, but I think there’s been a misunderstanding. Please”—he lifted me from his lap, depositing me firmly onto the sand beside him—“allow me to introduce myself. I am Captain Reid Diggory.” He cleared his throat pointedly. “And I’d appreciate if you’d refrain from using such coarse language around me in the future.”
I snorted in disbelief. “That’s rich coming from you, Monsieur Fuck.” His eyes widened comically at the expletive, and I laughed out loud. He didn’t. “Fine,” I said, still light with giddiness. His prickliness couldn’t puncture it. He was awake, I was awake, and we were together. Finally. “I’ll play along with this . . . whatever this is. Some sort of foreplay?”
Pushing to my feet, I offered him a hand. He stared as if it might bite him. Shrugging, I brushed off the seat of my pants instead. If his eyes had been wide before, they nearly burst from his face now. “Bonsoir, Captain Diggory.” Laughing again, I dipped in a theatrical bow. “My name is Louise le Blanc, daughter of the infamous Morgane le Blanc, and I am positively chuffed to make your acquaintance. I see you’re missing your official uniform, but no matter. Shall we light the stake now, or—?”
His eyes sharpened on my face, and without warning, he launched to his feet. “What did you say?”
My smile slipped at the sudden fierceness in his voice. I glanced at Coco and Beau, who both looked back in bewilderment. Célie rose slowly behind me. “My name is Louise le Blanc,” I repeated, less theatric now. For someone as stoic as Reid, he could playact much better than I’d anticipated. “And I’m chuffed to make your—”
“You’re the daughter of Morgane le Blanc? A witch?”
Alarm bells began pealing in my head. “Well, yes—”
He tackled me before I could finish.
We hit the ground hard, rolling, and his forearm collided with my throat. My breath left in a painful rush. “Um—ow.” Gasping, I shoved at his chest, but he didn’t move. His forearm remained. Combined with the weight of his body, I could scarcely breathe. “Okay, Chass, this role-play thing has officially gone too far—” He only pressed down harder until lights popped in my vision.
Right. This wasn’t fun anymore.
Cocking my head back, I smashed my forehead into his nose, thrusting my knee into his groin when he recoiled. When he bent inward with a groan, I scrambled out from beneath him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” I snarled, clutching my throat. “Are you trying to kill me?”
He panted and bared his teeth. “You’re a witch.”
“Yeah? So?”
Ignoring me, he tore at his bandolier, unsheathing one knife and reaching for another—the one directly above his heart. But it wasn’t there. Its sheath remained empty. He checked the others frantically, fingers seizing each one, before he realized what we’d already known. All emotion slid from his face. With deadly calm, he said, “Where is my Balisarda?”
I inched toward Coco. “Stop it, Reid. You’re scaring me.”
He stalked forward slowly, intently, matching each of my steps with his own. “Where is it?”
“A tree ate it.” Coco gripped my elbow and pulled me to her side. We watched him approach together. “In the southern part of the kingdom. Bas and his bandits attacked on the road, and Lou threw your Balisarda to protect me.” She paused, uncertain. “Don’t you remember?”
“You.” Recognition flared as he focused on Coco. “You’re a healer in the Tower.” His eyes dropped to where she clutched my arm, and his lip curled. “Are you in league with this witch?”
“I—” She stopped short when I shook my head, my stomach plunging with déjà vu. I’d had this exact conversation with Bas after he’d tried to kill me in La Fôret des Yeux. Had Reid—?
No.
My mind seized, unwilling to continue thought. He wouldn’t have. He—he couldn’t have. Could he?
“Who am I?” My voice shook as I stepped in front of Coco, toward him and his knife. The movement seemed to surprise him. He didn’t strike right away. Instead, he stared at me with brows furrowed as I carefully pushed down his blade. “How do we know each other?”
He lifted it back to my face. “We don’t.”
No no no
“If this is a joke, Reid, it’s gone far enough.”
“I do not joke.”
The truth of the words fragmented in my chest, and I exhaled deeply, absorbing their pain. No one was this good at playacting. Which meant . . . he had forgotten me. Just like Bas, he’d forgotten, only this time, I couldn’t reverse the pattern. I hadn’t cast it. But how far did it reach?
And why was he acting this way?
I searched blindly for an answer, remembering the way he’d collapsed in my arms. The way Morgane had collapsed with him on the beach. If he’d truly forgotten me, did that mean . . . ?
Holy hell.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “Think hard, Reid. Please. Just think. I’m Lou, remember? I’m your . . .” I glanced down at my empty ring finger, and the cracks in my chest splintered further. I’d returned his mother’s ring. Stupid. So stupid. “I’m your wife.”
His eyes hardened. “I don’t have a wife.”
“Easy.” I jerked back as he swiped at me, lifting placating hands. “I am your wife. Maybe not legally, but in the biblical sense—”
Perhaps speaking of his holy book had been a mistake.
With a snarl, he charged again, and I sidestepped, kicking his knee from behind as he went. He didn’t stumble as planned, instead pivoting with frightening agility. This time his knife caught my shirt, but I twisted at the last second. It shredded my sleeve instead. “Goddamn it.” The fabric fluttered uselessly in the breeze. “Just once, I’d like to keep my clothing intact—”
He rushed again with unexpected speed, catching my torn sleeve and yanking me closer, lifting his knife to thrust it deep in my chest. I caught his wrist, but physically, I was no match for his s
trength. The blade plunged lower and lower, and—not for the first time in my life—I looked death straight in the eyes.
They were the most beautiful shade of blue.
Something hard thudded into Reid’s back, propelling his knife the final inch. Blood welled as it pierced my skin, as Beau pounded at Reid’s head with both fists. Coco soon joined him, hissing as she punched down on Reid’s elbows, breaking his hold. When he turned—dragging Beau over his shoulder and throwing him to the ground—Coco wrenched a knife from his bandolier and sliced open her forearm. The bitter scent of blood magic coated the air. “We don’t want to hurt you, Reid,” she said, breathing heavily, “but if you don’t stop being an asshole, I’ll cut you a new one.”
His nostrils flared. “Demon spawn.”
She bared her teeth in a grin. “In the flesh.”
He moved to attack her, but Beau caught his ankle. “Stop this now. I command it as your—as your crown prince,” he finished lamely. Reid froze and frowned down at him.
“Your Highness? What are you doing here?”
“That’s right.” Beau choked on a cough, still struggling to breathe. He pointed to his chest. “I’m in charge. Me. And I’m telling you to concede.”
“But you’re”—Reid shook his head sharply and winced as if in pain—“you’re my . . . are you my brother?” He touched a hand to his temple. “You are my brother.”
Beau slumped on the ground. “Oh, thank God. You remember.” He twirled a hand and coughed again. “Put your knife down, Reid. You’re outnumbered if not outmanned, and I have no interest in seeing your second asshole.” He turned to Célie, who stood apart from the rest of us, her face ashen. “Do you want to see his second asshole?”
It was Reid’s turn to blanch. “Célie.” Instead of dropping his weapons, however, he streaked to her side, his righteous anger deepening to outright rage. He pushed her behind him. “Stay back, Célie. I won’t let them touch you.”
“Oh, good lord,” Coco muttered.
“Reid.” Tentatively, Célie pushed at his back, but he didn’t budge. His eyes found mine, and in them, hatred burned hotter than anything I’d ever seen. I could feel its heat wash over my skin, primal and visceral. Eternal. Like Coco’s Hellfire. “Reid, this is unnecessary. These—Louise and Cosette are my friends.” She tried showing him the green ribbon around her wrist. “See? They will not harm me. They will not harm you either. Just give us a chance to explain.”
“What?” He whirled to face her then, seizing the ribbon and tearing it free. “You call them friends? They’re witches, Célie. They killed your sister!”
“Yes, thank you for that kindly reminder.” She snatched the ribbon back, scowling and stepping around him. “You’ll be surprised to find my ears actually do work. I know who they are. More importantly, you know who they are, if you’d stop acting like a barbarian and listen.”
“I don’t—” He shook his head again, eyes narrowing. Confusion clouded his gaze, and stupid, useless hope lit in my heart. He sensed the truth in her words. Of course he did. Surely he could feel something had gone terribly wrong. Surely if he followed the thread of his thoughts, he would realize what had happened, and he would reverse the pattern. And he had to reverse the pattern. Forgetting me was one thing, but this—this wasn’t Reid. This was a murderous zealot. He must’ve botched the magic somehow, perhaps pulled two cords instead of one.
As quickly as the thought came, I dismissed it, knowing in my heart it wasn’t true. Reid hadn’t botched anything.
He’d simply . . . forgotten me.
Forgotten him.
Forgotten everything.
“Remember, Reid,” I whispered, tears thickening my voice. “Please. I don’t know what you gained by doing this, but give it back. It isn’t worth it.” When I reached out to him, unable to stop myself, his knuckles tightened on his knives. He pushed Célie behind him once more.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The pattern.” The sounds of the beach fell away as I wrung my hands, imploring him to look at me. To see me. “It’s your magic. Only you can reverse it. You lost consciousness in L’Eau Mélancolique. Think back to that moment. Remember what you chose to forget.”
“Lou.” Coco shook her head sadly. “Don’t.”
“He needs to understand. I can help him—”
“He did understand. That’s the point. He made a choice he felt was necessary. We need to respect it.”
“Respect it?” My voice rose hysterically. “How can I respect it? How can I respect any of this?” I flung my arms wide, dangerously close to my breaking point. “If he doesn’t love me—if he doesn’t even remember me—what was the point in all this, Coco? What was the point in any of it? All the pain, all the sorrow, all the death?”
Tears limned her own lashes as she took my hands in hers. “He did this for you, Lou. If Morgane has forgotten, maybe you’re—you’re finally safe.”
I tore my hand away from her. “I will never be safe, Coco. Even if Morgane has forgotten me, Josephine hasn’t. Auguste and his Chasseurs haven’t. How are we supposed to win this war if Reid can’t separate friend from foe?”
“I don’t know.” She shook her head helplessly. “I really don’t. I just know he saved our lives.”
Reid wrapped an arm around Célie’s waist then, pulling her away from us. I closed my eyes against the sight of it. The sight of them. He’d made a sacrifice for the greater good, yet again, my blood spilled upon the altar. “You’re both insane,” he said brusquely. “Come on, Célie. We need to go.”
Célie’s voice rose in protest. “But I don’t want—”
“You’re making a mistake, Reid,” Coco said.
He chuckled darkly. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back for you, witch. And your friend. I’ll even bring some friends of my own. Perhaps we’ll build a bonfire.”
“Oh, you’ll be back all right, brother.” Beau rose to his feet. “You have nowhere else to go. But you won’t be taking Célie with you.”
“With all due respect, brother—”
“All due respect means honoring the lady’s request,” Coco said. “She doesn’t want to go with you, and you don’t want to pick a fight with me, Reid. Not without your Balisarda.”
The threat hung heavy in the air.
I finally opened my eyes.
Reid’s throat worked with palpable distress as he weighed the situation: two witches against an unarmed huntsman with his blasphemous prince and childhood love caught in the crossfire. The Chasseur inside him—the part ruled by duty, by honor, by courage—refused to leave. The man inside him knew he must. Coco hadn’t been bluffing; she would hurt him if necessary. He didn’t know I wouldn’t let her. He didn’t know he could wield magic.
He didn’t remember me.
Leveling his knives at our faces, he spoke softly, viciously. “I will be back.”
I watched him disappear up the path with an overwhelming sense of emptiness.
Coco pressed my head upon her shoulder. “He’ll be back.”
Sticks and Stones
Reid
My footsteps pounded in rhythm with my heart. Faster and faster. Faster still. My skin flushed with heat, with sweat, as I sprinted uphill, vaulting stone and fern. I’d only traveled this far north once. Right after taking my vows. My captain at the time, a weak-spirited man by the name of Blanchart, had been trying to prove his spine to the Archbishop. He’d heard rumors of melusines in the area, and he’d ordered my contingent to investigate. We hadn’t even found the beach, instead wandering for days in this godforsaken mist.
If the freckled witch spoke truth, Blanchart had been right. There were melusines in the area. After I dispatched the demon in question, I’d return and—
Scoffing, I launched from the path.
She was a witch.
Of course she didn’t speak truth.
Instead of plunging into the forest, I followed the tree line south. There’d been a hamlet nearb
y. My brethren and I had rented rooms there each night. Unbidden, I glanced down at my chest. My bandolier. The empty sheath above my heart. Pieces of memory swarmed and stung like insects. Leering faces. Bloodstained snow. Searing pain and painted wagons and bitter honey—
A tree had eaten my Balisarda.
I nearly stumbled at the realization. At the onslaught of images. They formed a picture riddled with holes, a puzzle with missing pieces. There’d been lavender hair. Starry cloaks. Troupe de Fortune. The words gored my mind with surprising pain, and this time, I did miss a step. I’d traveled with them, briefly. I’d thrown knives in their company.
Why?
Clenching my eyes against such riotous thoughts, I focused on the one knife that mattered. The one knife I would reclaim. I’d burn the whole forest if necessary. I’d hack the demonic tree down to the ground, and I’d dig until its roots became kindling.
Bas and his bandits attacked on the road, and Lou threw your Balisarda to protect me. Don’t you remember?
Oh, I remembered. I remembered the scarred witch, who’d slithered into our mists as a healer. I remembered the disgraced Bastien St. Pierre, and I remembered my own gruesome injury. I did not, however, remember their coconspirator—the freckled witch. The one who’d looked at me as if someone had died.
I’m your wife, she’d said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. In the biblical sense.
Remember, Reid. She’d known my name. Called me by name.
If he doesn’t love me—if he doesn’t even remember me—what was the point in all this, Coco?
Blistering rage further quickened my step. The wind rushed past me now, burning my cheeks and numbing my ears. As if I’d ever debase myself with a witch. As if I’d ever marry anyone, let alone a bride of Satan. “Lou.” I sneered the name aloud, my breath catching around it. A hideous name for a hideous being, and Célie—
My God.
I’d left Célie alone with them.
No. I shook my head. Not alone. The crown prince, my brother—he’d been there too. He’d even shared some sort of absurd camaraderie with the creatures, as if they three were family instead of him and me. Perhaps he could protect Célie. Then again, perhaps he couldn’t. Regardless of how he felt toward them, witches held no family. I couldn’t risk it. Not with her.
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