Izzy opened her mouth and then shut it again, worrying at her fingernails with her teeth. I narrowed my eyes at her hands and Izzy shrugged and gave me a smile. “I guess I just have one of those faces.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Must have.” I folded my arms over my chest and frowned at my reflection in the car window.
The rest of the journey passed silently in a haze of freeway and broken speed limits, and I was nauseous by the time Blackwood eased the Range Rover to a stop on a tree-lined Dublin street. Snow’s truck came to a halt in front of ours, and her soldier’s truck parked to our rear. Izzy placed a firm hand on my knee. “You ready for this, Destiny?”I gave my best attempt at a smile and slipped onto the sidewalk—any other response would have been a lie.
The sunny afternoon had turned cool on the journey from the west coast of the country to the east, and a light drizzle fell on Ireland’s capital city. I took a deep breath, relishing the smell of rain and the sound of the breeze dancing through the branches of the trees that lined Griffith Avenue. My father had begun the construction of the largest tree-lined avenue in the northern hemisphere a hundred years before I was born, instructing the fae at the National Botanical Gardens in Glasnevin to cultivate a ready supply of London planetrees to line the majestic drive. Magnificent redbrick homes flanked either side of the wide leafy street, but my father’s home and the Dagda Preparatory school were the jewels in the crown of the clan’s neighborhood.
Nick, Patrick, and Markus stood in an uneasy group on the sidewalk. Snow had ordered us to dress as human mourners and the men cut striking figures in their dark suits. I could feel their eyes on my skin—the comforting warmth of Nick’s brown stare, the peculiar cool blue of Patrick’s gaze, the smoldering green of Markus’ glare. I folded my arms across my chest and examined my feet, encased in the expensive black leather boots Izzy had given me.
The moment Snow exited her car, her soldiers got to work. With dazzling speed and precision, they changed the license plates on the three cars. Three of the men separated from the group and drove the trucks away with nothing more than a lingering glance at Snow. I grabbed the sleeve of Izzy’s black jacket. “Where are they going? How are we supposed to escape if something goes wrong?”
“Destiny, Snow’s got this. I promise.” Izzy squeezed my hand. “What we’re doing here, well, it’s not strictly up to code, but if the I.G.S. takes the time to serve Balor with a search warrant—”
“He’ll move the kids and we won’t find them again,” I said. Izzy nodded. “So, the head of the International Guild of Supernaturals is breaking and entering with us—talk about blurring the lines of morality.”
“I answer to my own code of ethics, Destiny. I always have.” Snow’s eyes glimmered at the sight of my obvious discomfort. What the hell was this woman? She was slippier than an eel, appearing and disappearing on silent feet. I made a mental note to grill Patrick about her when we got back to Galway. I bit my lip—if I got back to Galway.
Snow marched toward the green-domed church that bordered my father’s property. My father referred to the stunning building as his mustache—human’s trailed to the church in droves to worship their Roman Catholic god, completely unaware that a god of a very different kind lay just beyond Corpus Christi’s boundary wall. As a teenager, I often loitered on the avenue when the bell tolled for service. I would watch the humans gather to worship and wonder how they would react if they knew the gods—the immortals who were the first to inhabit the earth—still walked amongst them.
The doors of the church were open but the vast rows of wooden pews were entirely empty. Snow gave Markus a pointed look and he cast a rune to lock the external doors. I glanced at Izzy and noticed her glare was fixed firmly on Snow’s face. Whatever plans the Guild’s general had shared with the guys in the truck on the way down, clearly hadn’t reached her other agents’ ears yet.
Snow raised her chin. “Our window of opportunity to carry out this search is small, and the risks are great.” The general’s dark eyes were captivating. The flecks of color in her irises were unlike any I’d seen before, spiraling glints of ember that almost appeared to move. Drawing me in like a spinning top. Or a descending staircase. I blinked and forced myself to focus on her words. “The Guild has been chasing the missing children for almost a year with absolutely no lead—until today.”
“What’s the plan?” Izzy tapped her foot on the elaborately tiled floor and stared at Snow.
“It’s very simple. Markus has a contact who’s agreed to help us gain access to Balor’s home. While Balor is distracted, I’ll guide the team in their search of the building.” Snow straightened her small black hat as she spoke.
“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” Izzy snapped. I clasped my fingers together and stared at my boots. Clearly, nobody had given Izzy the memo about how to address senior officers. Or the memo about Snow being a terrifying bitch. Blackwood and Teddy exchanged longsuffering glances as Izzy pointed a finger at Markus. “Listen, buddy, no offense, but we don’t have a fucking clue who you are. You could be setting us up right now. You could be walking us into the mouth of hell.” She whirled to face Snow again. “That isn’t a plan. That’s a recipe for disaster.”
I braced myself for Snow to go full monster on Izzy’s ass but the older woman was completely nonplussed. “Desperate times, Agent O’ Neill. Desperate times.”
Markus glared at Izzy. “You think I want this?” He spread his fingers wide, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. “Trust me, when I woke up yesterday morning, the last thing I expected was Murphy telling me they’d found Destiny. And I knew nothing about those kids except what my friend told me she’d read on Supebook. And I already told you, I don’t think Balor has them. At least not here.” Markus slid a hooded glare onto Nick for half a second. “Today was the first time I’ve ever been asked to move a kid. I wouldn’t do that shit.”
“So why my kid? Huh? Why take her?” I dragged my hand over my eyes as Nick turned on Markus again, raking over the coals of the interrogation the agents had already subjected Markus to at The Paper Heart.
Markus gritted his teeth. “I didn’t take her, man. She was handed to me. And I brought her back to you. Have any fucking idea what that’s going to cost me?” Markus ripped his sleeve up to reveal the outline of a serpent tattoo on his forearm. The beginning of the mark of fealty to my father and the clan. “Balor doesn’t take kindly to people who mess with his plans.” He lowered his voice to a self-loathing murmur. “And I wasn’t on his nice list to begin with, believe me.”
“How did you know to bring her to The Paper Heart?” Nick was relentless.
“Nick, he’s a level one red. He’s been the best tracker in the clan since we were twelve, okay? I’m not saying we can trust him.” I shot a look in Markus’ direction. “I don’t know anyone from the clan anymore. But tracking Maya’s home wouldn’t be a challenge for him,” I said. Nick frowned but he ceased his questioning.
Patrick watched the exchange with bright eyes and ran a hand along the back of the pew. “Does any of this matter?” We all turned to stare at him and Patrick shrugged. “We know Balor was in possession of an abducted child. We know whoever took Maya used the same method as they used to kidnap the other missing children. It’s all too convenient to be a coincidence. One way or the other, Destiny’s father is involved in the kidnappings. Even if the witch is leading us into a trap, we have to go. We can’t risk losing our lead. Doesn’t really matter how Markus found his way to The Paper Heart. Doesn’t even matter why he chose to risk Balor’s wrath by disobeying orders—”
“I sensed Destiny, from the kid. So I ran.” I held my breath as turned to Markus. Nick growled deep in his chest but Markus didn’t take his eyes off my face. I felt as though I was in a dream. In all the time that had passed, I’d forgotten nothing about him. I hadn’t forgotten the width of his shoulders or the feel of his hands around my waist. The full curve of his bottom lip. The intensity of his stare.
“Markus? Where the fuck are you? The gate’s about to close!” The hiss smacked me out of my teenage memories and back to the present. Izzy grabbed my arm as I scanned the room, searching for the source of the whispering.
My jaw tightened as a flash of blond hair and slinky white silk shimmied from behind one of the marble columns. Bitterness settled in the pit of my stomach like a concrete block as I realized who Markus had chosen as his confidante for the mission. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared past him into the belly of the church. “Markus is right here. You can come out, Willow.”
Chapter Fifteen
The first time I saw Willow, it was my sixth birthday—the morning after my mother was ripped from my life and the day Willow’s mother married my father. I remember being dragged into the ballroom to witness the ceremony. Years later, when I remembered that afternoon, I could still taste the grief on my tongue. Could still feel the rush of confusion in my ears. Aoife pleaded with me through her tears to calm myself until we got back to our quarters, but she didn’t lie to me. She didn’t pretend my mother would be coming back.
That awful day, I marched up the aisle at Aoife’s side, my limbs as stiff as a china doll’s, and found myself face to face with a girl my age; a miniature replica of the woman in the bridal gown standing with my father. My new step-sister—Willow. Her mother’s marriage to my father only lasted until it became obvious she wasn’t going to bear him a child, he moved onto a younger conquest before the year was out, but Willow remained a constant in my turbulent youth. Arctic white to my flaming red—my best friend and my worst enemy.
“How delightful—the prodigal daughter returns.” Willow’s perfectly glossed lips thinned as she flicked her glare toward Markus. “You didn’t say she was with you.”
“She doesn’t want to be here, Willow, don’t worry. I’m only here to make sure I never, ever have to return to this vile, putrid cesspit again. The minute we find what we’re looking for, I’ll be gone, and you and Markus can go back to being the darlings of the clan, okay?” My inner teenager bubbled just below the surface of my skin and it took everything in my power not to reach out and yank her perfect hair—I’d forgotten how unjustly beautiful Willow was.
Willow’s eyes widened slightly and she shot Markus a glance but before she could speak he caught her arm and maneuvered her toward the altar. “Willow, if the gate’s closing, we need to hurry.”
Snow barked at the rest of us to follow, any indecision swept aside by the urgency of the moment. Willow swerved to the left at the altar and pulled back the heavy red curtain of the confessional booth to reveal a carved wooden doorway opening onto a dark tunnel. I pursed my lips and stared at the beautiful blonde. “What is this?”
Willow tilted her head to one side. “Wow, Destiny, being in the human world really has melted your tiny brain.” She leaned forward and spoke slowly, stretching out each syllable. “It’s a door.”
“Get fucked, Willow, you smart-arsed little—” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Patrick and Nick exchange a glance and I clenched my back teeth. I wasn’t seventeen anymore. I wouldn’t let Markus and Willow revert me to the person I had been before I became a mother. I took a deep breath. “I spent months scouring my father’s home for any sign of charmed passageways—is it new?”
Markus put his arm out to stop Willow from responding. “No. It’s an original feature of the house. I discovered it last year.” I raised an eyebrow and glanced at Nick. Maybe he was right to be so skeptical of Markus. A secret passage I’d somehow overlooked? Another convenient coincidence. Markus glared at Snow. “Listen, if you’ve changed your mind about searching the house, that’s fine, I’m not exactly in a hurry to face Balor. But the passageway only stays open for half an hour and we’ve already wasted a lot of time.”
“Lead the way and we’ll follow.” Snow gestured for Markus to walk through the doorway and then turned to the rest of us, her gaze hardening as she stared at Izzy and Nick. “All of us.”
Willow held the curtain open and one by one we marched past her into the darkness of the tunnel that led down into the earth and to my father’s house—supposedly. Patrick and Nick were the last to enter the passageway and I glanced back at them, stopping short when I realized Willow wasn’t following us inside. I slipped between the two men and lodged my foot in the door before she could close it. “Not coming with us, Wil?” I clamped my fingers around her wrist and squeezed it tightly. “Come on, you always loved adventures. And we wouldn’t want you running to Daddy before we’ve reached the other side now, would we?”
“You think Balor would listen to a word I say? You really don’t have a goddamn clue, do you? You walked out of that cemetery and never looked back. Did it ever occur to you that your father might think we had something to do with your disappearance?” The catch in Willow’s voice caught me off-guard. “That he’d be looking for somebody to take his anger out on?” I opened my mouth and shut it again, releasing my grip on Willow’s arm. Her lips twisted into a bitter grin. “Didn’t think so. I can’t go through the passageway with you; you’ll understand when you get to the other side. You better walk fast before I change my mind and tell Murphy you’re on your way over.”
Willow had almost let the door slide shut when she hauled it open again and called after me. “Destiny?” I paused and glanced over my shoulder. “It was one stupid fucking kiss. That night, before you left—he was drunk and I was lonely. It was never me he wanted, even after everything your father did.”
I nodded and tugged at the hem of my shirt. “Running away—leaving the clan—it wasn’t about you and Markus, Willow. I mean, it gave me a nudge, but it wasn’t the reason. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Our fault?” Willow’s voice was like a blade scraping glass. “It wasn’t our fault? Are you offering me your forgiveness?”
I dug my fingers into my hips. “I’m saying I don’t hold a grudge for my self-proclaimed best friend locking lips with my supposed boyfriend, yes!”
“You left us!” Willow’s pretty face contorted with suppressed rage. “And you never came back to check we were okay. You didn’t care if your father punished us. If he tried to squeeze answers from us we didn’t have. If he took Markus and—” Willow broke off suddenly and clamped her lips together. Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t forgive you, Destiny O’ Neill.”
Patrick took hold of my hand and pulled me away from the door gently, whispering that we needed to run before the charm was spent. Nick caught hold of my other hand and propelled me forward with great leaping strides until the door and Willow were out of sight, but her voice chased me down the passageway. I clenched my fists and pumped my legs faster, but I couldn’t outrun her words. “You don’t deserve forgiveness, and you don’t deserve him.”
Izzy stood at the end of the tunnel and gestured at us to run faster. Nick threw me over his shoulder and covered the final few feet in a streak of flying limbs. Patrick didn’t increase his pace, stepping over the threshold at an even jog just as the doorway vanished. Nick set me on the floor gently and I swung at Patrick’s shoulder. “You idiot, do you know what happens to people who get trapped in charmed passageways?”
Patrick caught my fist before my punch made contact with his arm and one side of mouth jerked upward. “I knew I’d be fine.”
“You said your visions weren’t working because of your headache—why would you take a risk?” I demanded.
“I said some of my visions were fuzzy, that one was perfect.” Patrick raised one eyebrow. “Are you worrying about my personal safety, Destiny?”
“No.” I was glad Aoife and her friends weren’t around to analyze my impression of a petulant five-year-old who’d just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “I just didn’t want anything to compromise the mission.”
I turned my flushed face away from Patrick’s probing stare and examined the cold, dank room the tunnel had led us to. The walls were made of rough brick and the ground was covered in flagstones, cracked wit
h age and damp. There were no windows and no furniture, except for a thin mattress lying on the floor and a single blanket. I hugged my arms to my chest as Izzy, Teddy, Blackwood and Snow’s four remaining men spread out and started to study the walls and door. Blackwood stared at Markus over his shoulder. “This is your bedroom?”
I snickered. Markus’ parents came from old stock. His mother was one of my father’s most trusted advisors and his father ran the clans’ investment portfolio. Markus had didn’t have a bedroom—he had a suite and a private butler.
Markus watched me out of the corner as he answered Blackwood. “Yeah, it is.”
I raised my eyebrows. Markus was lying. Why was he lying? Nick was right, we couldn’t trust him. Patrick pressed his fingers lightly on the shoulder, interrupting my inner monologue with a look that cut to my core. Willow’s words wriggled around inside my mind. My father blamed Markus.
Blackwood ran his hands over the slime-covered stone walls. “And it’s in the basement, correct?”
“There’s no basement in my father’s home,” I said. Markus hunched his shoulders. “There’s only a crypt where the clan buries their dead.”
Nick exhaled, clearly piecing together a picture of Markus’ time since I’d left the clan from the conversation he’d overheard between Willow and me. He nodded at the black steel door. “So I’m guessing that’s locked?”
“And charmed. I wouldn’t recommend attempting to use magic to unlock it.” Markus shot Nick a wry smile and the shifter returned it.
I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes and tried to remember what I was doing back in the place I hated most in the world. I was at my father’s home to find the missing children. I was at my father’s home so I could join the Free Witches. I was at my father’s home because I needed to be in the coven to protect Saoirse from my father. Even though the coven hadn’t been able to protect the other children. Patrick’s hand hovered over the small of my back and I tried to concentrate on his words to stop myself from dissolving into a puddle. “How are we going to search for the missing children if we’re locked in one of the crypt’s chambers?”
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