Gods & Monsters

by Shelby Mahurin

  And I would kill Lou and Coco at the first opportunity.

  The Wager

  Lou

  Coco allowed me to wallow in misery for approximately three minutes—hugging me all the while—before pulling back and wiping my tears. “He isn’t dead, you know.”

  “He loathes me.”

  She shrugged and rifled through her bag, extracting a bottle of honey. “I seem to remember him loathing you once before. You both rose to the occasion.” She combined the amber liquid with blood from her forearm before swabbing the mixture over the wound at my chest. She turned to examine Beau’s injuries next. “We might as well be comfortable while we wait.”

  “Wait for what?” Beau asked mulishly. Sporting a terrific shiner from Reid’s ministrations, he swallowed the blood and honey. The swelling disappeared almost instantly.

  “For Reid to crawl back with his tail between his legs. It shouldn’t take long.” She shooed him down the beach. “Now go find some driftwood for a fire. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.”

  “Why?” Though Beau complied, snatching up a stick by our feet, he glanced around nervously. “Shouldn’t we leave? Morgane could be lurking out of sight.”

  “I doubt it,” Coco murmured, “if she doesn’t remember Lou.”

  I jerked my sleeve back in place.

  “Here.” Célie smiled faintly, reaching into her own bag. She withdrew a needle and thread. “Let me help with that.” I frowned as her delicate fingers threaded the eye, as she slowly, carefully reaffixed the fabric.

  “We’ll leave as soon as Reid returns.” Coco walked to the path to gather rocks for a firepit. “If we go before, he might not find us again. We’ll need him to help steal the ring before we can return to Cesarine.” With an inscrutable look in my direction, she added, “That is the plan, isn’t it? To rejoin Claud and Blaise with the melusines? Plot a final strike against Morgane? Rescue Madame Labelle from the stake?”

  “More or less.”

  Beau scowled when she snatched his stick, speaking in an aggrieved whisper. “On that note, how on earth are we supposed to steal the ring? Chateau le Blanc is a fortress, and again—Morgane could be hiding behind that rock even now, listening to our every word.”

  “Again, without Lou in the picture, Morgane could be rallying forces to kill your father as we speak,” Coco said pointedly. “Zenna said witches have been gathering at Chateau le Blanc en masse. I doubt they’re braiding each other’s hair. Perhaps they’ve already marched toward Cesarine. It’d certainly make our job easier.”

  “And if not? Couldn’t we just . . . dispatch Morgane at the Chateau?”

  “Like we could’ve dispatched her on the beach?” I watched as Célie moved to the gash at my chest. Though the fabric was still wet from my blood—from Coco’s blood and honey—she didn’t seem to mind. I, however, struggled to remain still. To remain calm. “It worked out so well for us the first time. I’m sure it’ll be even simpler surrounded by witches en masse.” To Coco, I said, “Why didn’t we think of that?”

  She shrugged. “Who needs gods and dragons, werewolves and mermaids, when we could’ve just done it ourselves the whole time?”

  “Yes, all right.” Beau scowled at each of us, stalking down the beach, as Célie finished mending my shirt. “It was just a thought.”

  He returned a few moments later with an armful of driftwood, dumping it at Coco’s feet. She promptly scowled and stacked the pieces into a square. “Genuinely, how have you survived this long, Beauregard?”

  “Here.” I snapped my fingers, magicking the friction between them to the point of pain. The golden pattern vanished as a flame sparked. Delicious heat washed over me, a welcome reprieve to the icy cold in my chest. I glanced to the path instinctively.

  He’ll come back.

  “Lou.” As if reading my thoughts, Coco turned my chin with a single finger. “You forgot to include one key component in our plan: seducing Reid.” She smirked at my deadpan expression. “Fortunately you happen to know a master in the art of seduction. Don’t worry, Célie,” she added, winking. “I’ll teach you in the process as well. Think of it as your first lesson in debauchment.”

  My heart sank miserably, and I shook my head. “We have more important things to worry about. Besides,” I added, loathing the note of bitterness in my voice. “It won’t work. Not this time.”

  “I don’t see why not. He fell in love with you before.” She dropped her hand. “And I would argue it’s the most important thing.”

  “He didn’t know I was a witch then. He thought I was his wife.”

  “Nuance. Your souls are bound. Magic can’t change that.”

  “You can’t really believe in soul mates?”

  “I believe in you.” At my incredulous look, she shrugged again, watching the flames crackle. “And perhaps I’m willing to make an exception when it comes to the two of you. I’ve been here this whole time, you know,” she added. “I watched Reid take his forefather’s life to save yours. I watched him throw his entire belief system out the window and learn magic for your sake—and wear leather pants in a traveling troupe. I watched you sacrifice pieces of yourself to protect him. He fought an entire pack of werewolves to return the favor, and you fought tooth and nail in these waters to return to him. You’ve befriended a god, swum with mermaids, and now you can even transform into a three-form shape at will. You can probably do a whole slew of other fun new things too.” Her brows lifted with her shoulders. “I’m certainly not betting against you—unless you’re too afraid to try?”

  Nicholina’s hateful voice filled my mind. But you should feel lucky you tricked him, oh yes, because if you hadn’t tricked him—such a tricky little mouse—he never would’ve loved you. If he had known what you are, he never would’ve held you beneath the stars.

  Goddamn it.

  Beau, who’d been listening in silence, watched me too closely to be comfortable. He arched a brow. “I don’t know, Coco. I don’t think she can do it.”

  I glared mutinously at the fire. “Don’t start with me, Beau.”

  “Why not?” His dark eyes searched my face and missed nothing. “You just said as much yourself. It won’t work. He’ll never love you again. I’m merely concurring with the sentiment.”

  “I’m not doing this.”

  “Yes, you’ve made that perfectly clear. Better not to try at all than to fail, right?” He shrugged dispassionately. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “Beau!” Célie’s eyes widened in protest. Perhaps she was too naive to see Beau’s manipulation, or—more likely—perhaps she insisted on being the voice of optimism despite it. “How can you say such wicked things? Of course Reid will love her. The bond they share is true. You saw their kiss—it woke him up despite the magic!”

  “Oh, Célie, enough with this true love nonsense.” He returned his cool attention to me. “You want truth, sister mine? I shall give you truth. You were right before. Without memories of your relationship, you are only a witch to Reid, and he hates you. You are no longer his wife. As far as he knows, you were never his wife. Indeed, he’s probably plotting creative ways to kill you at this very moment.” He leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially. “My money is on strangulation. He never has been able to keep his hands off you.”

  Célie’s eyes flashed. “Really, Beau, you shouldn’t—”

  I mimicked his movement with a black smile, leaning toward him until our noses nearly touched. “Let’s sweeten the pot. I bet it’ll be a knife to heart.”

  Coco rolled her eyes as Beau shook his head. “Not intimate enough.”

  “There’s nothing more intimate—”

  “Oh, I disagree—”

  “You’re both ridiculous,” Célie snapped, shooting to her feet in a spectacular display of temper. “You want to sweeten the pot? I wager all the riches in my father’s treasury that Reid does fall in love with you again, despite knowing you’re a witch.”

  A beat of silence passed as she gla
red at me. Pink tinged her cheeks.

  “I thought you stole all of your father’s treasure?” Beau asked suspiciously.

  “Not even close.”

  He pursed his lips, considering, while I quietly seethed. They were treating this like a game, all of them. But this wasn’t a game. This was my life. And why did Célie care so much, anyway? Reid had wrecked their own relationship for the sake of true love with me. As if reading my thoughts, she whispered, “The two of you have something special, Louise. Something precious. How can you not fight for him? He has certainly fought for you.”

  You’ve lived in fear too long.

  Fear has helped me survive.

  Fear has kept you from living.

  “I think I’d like to accept that wager, Mademoiselle Tremblay,” Beau mused before turning to Coco. “What do you think, Cosette? Does the fair maiden stand a chance of seducing her gallant knight? Shall true love win the day?”

  Coco carefully stoked the fire. “You know what I think.”

  “It would seem we have a wager.” Beau held out a hand to Célie, clasping her wrist and shaking it. “If Lou fails to seduce her husband, you will give me all the riches in your father’s treasury.” His teeth flashed in a hard smile. “And if she succeeds, I will give you all the riches in mine.”

  Célie blinked, the indignation in her eyes winking out. Her mouth parted in awe. “King Auguste’s entire treasury?”

  “Indeed. Unless, of course, our fair maiden objects?” He extended his free hand toward me, but I knocked it aside with a scowl. Ass. “As I thought.” He tutted softly. “You are too afraid.”

  Paralysis crept up my spine as I looked between them all. Though I opened my mouth to speak—to vehemently object to this foolish game—the words caught, and different words altogether spilled out instead. Honest ones. “I’m not afraid. I’m terrified. What if he does try to strangle me or stick a knife through my heart? What if he doesn’t remember at all? What if he doesn’t . . .” I swallowed hard and blinked back fresh tears. “What if he doesn’t love me?”

  Beau wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close. “Then I will become a rich man.”

  “You’re already a rich man.”

  “A very rich man.”

  “You’re an ass, Beau.”

  He brushed a brotherly kiss across my temple. “Do we have a wager?”

  I rested my head on his shoulder as noise sounded from the path, and Reid stormed into sight, right on time. Jean Luc followed at a wary distance. Jean Luc. It was a mark of the last twenty-four hours that I didn’t bat an eye.

  “Yes,” I said. The word tasted like hope. It felt like armor. I allowed it to wrap around me, bolstering my spirit and protecting my heart. Reid had fallen in love with me once, and I still returned that love fiercely. It was special. It was precious. And I would fight for it. “Yes, we have a wager.”

  Holes in the Tapestry

  Reid

  The witch called Lou stepped from the crown prince with a smirk as I approached. I did a double take. Whereas before her eyes had shone with grief—with near unfathomable loss—they now sparkled with wicked intent. I frowned as the other witch, Coco, stepped in front of her, breaking my line of sight.

  Was she—I stared at them incredulously—was she pulling Lou’s neckline down?

  I averted my eyes, furious, but glanced back as Célie leaned over to pinch Lou’s cheeks.

  Beside me, Jean Luc broke into a jog. He didn’t seem to notice Lou’s décolletage. He saw only Célie. Spinning her around, he cupped her face and kissed her. Straight on the mouth. In front of us all. Though Célie’s eyes flew open in surprise, she didn’t protest. Indeed, she even wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling against his lips. “You’re here,” she said happily.

  He returned her smile before resting his forehead against hers. I stared at them. I hadn’t seen Jean smile since we were children. “I’m here,” he breathed.

  Something shifted in her expression. Her smile faltered. “You’re here.” She blinked up at him in confusion. “Why are you here?”

  “Yes, Jean.” I stalked forward, careful to keep one eye on Lou. She kept both on me. Unease snaked down my spine, further inflaming my fury. “Why are you here?”

  Lou sauntered forward, still grinning. I refused to retreat a step. Not a single one. “I could pose the same question to you, Chass.” She batted her lashes and trailed a finger across my chest. “Just couldn’t stay away, could you?”

  I caught her wrist and stepped closer. Baring my teeth. I longed for my Balisarda. “Hardly. You’ve clearly tampered with my memories, witch. I want them back.”

  She tilted her face toward mine, unperturbed. “Hmm. I don’t think I can help you with that.”

  “You can, and you will.”

  “Only the witch who cast the enchantment can break it.” Coco’s hip knocked into Lou as she swept past us, pushing Lou flush against me. She winked. “In this case, that means you.”

  My jaw clenched, and I lifted my hands to Lou’s shoulders to forcibly remove her. “You lie.”

  “Why would we lie? Trust us when we say you aren’t exactly fun to be around—not like this anyway. If there was a way for us to reverse your memory, we would’ve already done it.” Coco lifted a shoulder as she stepped on the path. “You’ll need to do it, or no one will.”

  “A pity, that.” Lou thrust her pack against my chest. I caught it instinctively. “Guess you’ll have to stay with us until you figure it out.” She followed Coco without a backward glance, swaying her hips as she went. My lip curled in disgust. She wore trousers. Fitted ones. Leather. They adhered to her delicate shape in a distasteful way—indecent, even. Shaking my head, I tore my gaze away to stare at the pack in my hands.

  I suspected she was anything but delicate.

  “Answer the question, Jean.” Célie’s voice reclaimed my attention. She scowled up at Jean Luc, fierce and unrelenting. “You said the priests—the king—requested your presence at the conclave.”

  “They did.”

  “You disobeyed them?”

  “I . . .” He tugged at his collar. “I had to see you.”

  Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why? Why are you here? Did you”—those accusing eyes cut to mine—“did he think I couldn’t do this? Did he think I would die at the first opportunity?”

  “You did almost fall from a cliff,” Jean Luc muttered defensively. When Célie’s face contorted in shock, in outrage, he added, “What? You did. I spoke with Father Achille.”

  “You spoke with Father Achille?” Célie’s voice could’ve frozen water. Abruptly, she stepped away from him, her neck and spine snapping impossibly straight. Taut as a bow. “Have you been following me?”

  “I—well, I—of course I have.” He rubbed a sheepish hand across his neck. “How could I not?”

  “For how long?”

  He hesitated, clearly reluctant. “Since . . . since Cesarine.”

  Her expression emptied of all emotion. “You abandoned your post. You forsook the conclave.”

  “No.” Jean Luc shook his head vehemently. “I delegated my duties before I left. I ensured the king and your parents would remain protected—”

  “Do my parents know? Did you tell them that you planned to follow me?”

  He looked deeply uncomfortable now. “Yes.” At her intense, cold stare, he hastened to add, “We had to know you were safe, Célie. They—I—couldn’t bear the thought of anything—”

  She didn’t allow him to finish. Instead, she bludgeoned him in the chest with her own pack, turning on her heel to follow Coco and Lou. He staggered beneath its weight. “Célie.” When she didn’t turn, his voice grew louder, imploring. “Célie, please, wait—”

  She whirled suddenly, fists clenched. “I do not need a keeper, Jean. This may come as a surprise, but I can take care of myself. I may be a woman—I may be gentle and meek and refined, like a pretty doll—but I have survived more in my eighteen years than you a
nd my parents combined. Do not mistake me for porcelain. Do not mistake me for weak.”

  She left without another word.

  Struggling to hold her bag, Jean Luc tried to follow, but the crown prince clapped his shoulder, further upsetting his balance. He pitched forward with a curse. “Bad luck, man.” Beau didn’t lift a finger to set him right. “I think there might be actual bars of gold in there.” He shrugged. “The melusines liked her best.”

  “She’s wearing trousers,” Jean Luc said incredulously, panting now. “Célie.”

  Tension radiated across my face, shoulders, neck. I cared for none of this—the witches, their lies, their clothes. Tasteless wardrobes aside, however, the women had disappeared around the bend. We couldn’t afford to lose them. I couldn’t afford to lose them. Not with my memory at stake. Despite their deceit, they would help me restore my memories, or I would cut the very lies from their tongues. I just needed patience. Scowling, I hitched Lou’s bag higher. “Where are we going?”

  Beau started after them without waiting for either of us. “I believe to pillage a castle.”

  Jean Luc acquired two additional horses at the next village to speed our travel. When he extended a hand to Célie to help her mount his own, she knocked it aside and ascended herself. She now sat formal and straight in his saddle while he perched behind her.

  That left four of us.

  I glared at the witches, prepared to tie them behind as Jean Luc had tied me. Beau had a different idea. Without giving me a chance to speak—to protest—he ushered Coco astride the second horse, hoisting himself up after her.

  That left two of us for the last horse.

  And it was unacceptable.

  “Give me the rope.” I stomped to Jean Luc’s side, seizing his bag. The coil sat at the top. Right. Squaring my shoulders, I turned to face the witch. The others watched in rapt fascination. “Don’t make this difficult.”

  Her eyes fell to the rope in my hand. Her smile faltered. “You’re kidding.”