by Linsey Hall
“Good point. It must be a power you inherently have.” Mac tapped her chin. “But what the hell sort of power is it?”
“I don’t know.” I raised the book. “And I think there should be answers in here, but I can’t read it.”
Mac held out her hand, and I passed it over. She flipped open the book and studied it. “Hmm. Did Seraphia look in here?”
“No. She helped me unlock it, but by then, it was late, so I took it home to read.”
“We need to take it back to her.”
“Who is Seraphia?” Beatrix asked.
I realized I’d left her out—I’d probably left a lot out—and I quickly explained.
Mac leaned forward. “You know what? Why don’t I hang out with Beatrix? Help her get adjusted to Guid City. Maybe figure out her magic. And that will give you time to get to the bottom of this book.”
Beatrix nodded. “That sounds like a good idea. You have a lot at stake, don’t you?”
“So much.”
Beatrix gripped my hand. “That settles it, then. I’ll hang out with my new friend here, and I’ll be around if you need me.” She hiked a thumb toward my couch. “That’s my new bed, by the way. The raccoon is going to have to share.”
I laughed. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. Because I’m pretty sure I’d be dead without you.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. I need to figure it out.” I looked down at the book, wishing I could read it. There was so much I didn’t know. If I’d really brought Beatrix back…how had I done it?
Exhaustion tugged at me. I’d been going nonstop since I’d found the book and gone to Transylvania. I needed a nap of the eight-hour variety.
Aching, I stood. “Let’s get ready for bed. Tomorrow, we’ll figure this out.”
Between the two of us, Mac and I had enough extra bedding to make Beatrix a place on the sofa. Cordelia vacated it for the chair near the window, though she might eventually move into my room.
As I went to my bedroom, I turned to look back at my friend, already tucked into her couch bed.
Beatrix.
She was back.
How was I so lucky?
“Night,” Beatrix said.
“Night.” I waved, then went to my room. My mind raced as I settled down into bed, and it was impossible not to think of Grey.
Could I save him like I’d saved Beatrix?
9
Grey
The dream was both heaven and hell. It pulled at me. Carrow on one side, the afterlife on the other. The flames of the underworld flickered, trying to drag me toward them. It was a place of myth and legend. Though I’d never been to an underworld, my perception of it was as old as I was—a place of torture, where I’d pay for the sins of my past.
In the present, on Earth, there was Carrow.
And yet, I couldn’t have both her and life.
I woke, sweating and gasping.
Fates, I was a disaster.
Embarrassing.
I swung myself out of bed and drew in a bracing breath. Everything felt heavier, as it had since the curse had come back into effect. My mortality dragged at me in wakefulness and in sleep, with every second ticking by and moving me closer to an unacceptable future. I could feel time like it was a physical thing.
I shook away the thought and headed for the shower. I was due to meet Carrow soon. Next to her was the only place I wanted to be. My previous self would consider the thought insane, but I’d accepted it.
She’d changed me. Massively so.
Though part of me struggled with the idea, the rest didn't give a damn. I wanted to be by her side. Now, in the future, forever.
I prayed the book had taught her something that would help us, because the visit to the seer had not been as promising as I’d hoped. I’d put on a good face for Carrow, but the results of that visit had been disappointing. True, we’d learned a great deal of new information, but it had laid the entire task on Carrow’s shoulders, and I hated it. This should be my burden.
Quickly, I showered and dressed, choosing one of my usual suits without thinking. I drank a liter of bagged blood to give myself strength, grimacing at the stale taste. It was nothing like Carrow, but I couldn’t risk it.
Ready, I left the flat and passed Miranda’s desk with a brief farewell. The morning was brisk as I walked toward Carrow’s flat. Supernaturals were out and about, headed for work and play.
Near Carrow’s flat, I passed a coffeehouse. The aroma wafted out onto the street, rich and enticing. I turned in to pick up a coffee for her. There was no time to waste, but there was also no need to be uncivilized.
Having no idea who I would find at Carrow’s flat, I ordered four coffees. The clerk arranged them in a small cardboard carrier, and I headed back out into the morning.
As I neared Carrow’s flat, I caught sight of someone looking at me from across the street. I stared back, trying to place him, but it was just an unfamiliar young man, looking at me with surprise. There wasn’t a hint of threat coming from him, but he was staring at…
Me. He was staring at me, carrying a tray of coffees like a common errand boy. I felt my eyebrows rise and a slight, silent laugh escape my throat.
If some of my enemies could see me now.
Carrow had…domesticated me.
It was vaguely uncomfortable, but not unbearable.
But now was not the time for insufferable navel gazing. I’d done enough of that already. I turned toward her green door and knocked loudly, then looked up at the flats above.
Mac leaned out of her window and stared down at me, her pale hair tousled. Her gaze landed on the coffees. “Is one of those for me?”
“Certainly.”
She nodded. “Be right there.”
A moment later, her footsteps pounded down the stairs. She could give a rhinoceros a run for its money. The door swung open, and she reached out to grab a coffee. “Thanks.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Of course? The Devil of Darkvale is an of course I deliver coffee sort of man?”
“I suppose not, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to say.”
She shrugged. “Fair enough. Come on up. Carrow has a surprise for you.”
Excitement thrilled through me. Hadshe found a solution? “Of what sort?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” She turned and took the stairs two at a time.
I followed her to the top floor, turning right to follow her into Carrow’s small flat. It was as charming as usual, save for the unfamiliar woman sitting on the couch, a pale redhead. Anxiety radiated from her, along with curiosity. Her green eyes raced over the entire space, including me, taking everything in like she was a person from outer space.
There was something familiar about her, too. Her magical signature reminded me of another’s. But whose?
Carrow came out of the kitchen, dressed in her usual attire of dark jeans and a simple shirt. Her hair glowed golden around her head, and her beauty took me away. The newcomer was forgotten, and I held out the coffee tray. “For you.”
Her gaze landed on it, warming. “Thank you.”
I nodded.
She approached, and I held my breath, not wanting to risk inhaling her miraculous scent.
She took the tray and removed one coffee, handing it to me. Then she turned toward the oddly familiar woman and handed her a coffee. “Try this.”
“Thanks.” The woman took the coffee, her gaze moving back to me.
From behind, footsteps sounded on the stairs. I turned, spotting Eve. The Fae rushed into the room, her hair brilliant blue today. Curiosity gleamed in her eyes, and her dress looked wrinkled and worn. Two different shoes adorned her feet.
“Well, don’t you look a sight.” Mac grinned. “In a hurry this morning?”
“Give me a break.” Eve strode into the room, her gaze on the new woman. “You’re supposed to be the raven?”
The raven?
“I—�
�� The newcomer shrugged, her face utterly confused. “Apparently so, yes.”
I turned to Carrow. “What is happening?”
“You’re never going to believe this.” Carrow held up a finger, a contrite expression on her face. “But just give me a half a second?”
“Of course.”
I stepped back against the wall. A drama was about to unfold. If I’d learned anything in my long life, it was how to sense tension. And the air was loaded with it.
Carrow looked at Eve. “This is Beatrix. She’s spent the last year as the raven that followed you. You really couldn’t see her?”
Her old friend Beatrix? The one that had been murdered?
Eve sighed. “I could see her, all right? I just didn’t want to talk about it.”
“Why?” Carrow asked.
“We all have secrets, Carrow.” Eve folded her arms. “Until now, this didn’t matter. And honestly, I’m not even sure what any of it means.”
“Try,” Carrow said. “Please. Because as far as I knew, Beatrix was dead. But…”
“I’m not.” The newcomer shrugged, confusion flickering in her gaze. “I died, and I felt it. Horrible.” She shuddered. “But then something happened, and I woke up with you. Or at least, near you. I felt your presence like a light. Like something that kept me on this plane.”
Eve crossed her arms, clutching her biceps tightly. Indecision flickered in her eyes, along with a bit of fear. “I’ve got some magic I don’t quite understand. Something Fae, but I don’t have a Court, so I’ve never learned what it is.”
“A Court?” Beatrix frowned.
“Beatrix has no idea about the magical world,” said Carrow, then turned to Beatrix. “And I promise, I’ll explain it all later.”
Beatrix nodded, frowning slightly. This had to be a lot for her to take in.
Eve continued. “I knew you were following me, but you never spoke. And you never acted like much more than an overly familiar bird. So I assumed it was just some kind of Snow White affinity for animals. But since it wasn’t dangerous, I decided to ignore it. I like my life the way it is, and I know that if I poke into my Fae ancestry, I might find something I don’t like.”
“It’s not just you,” Beatrix said. “It’s Carrow, too. She’s the one who drew me the strongest. I think she’s the one who kept me from dying. I could feel her presence. Her energy. She yanked me back from the brink of death, but you were like an energy source that kept me here. So I followed you.”
Eve nodded, her eyes flickering with worry. She looked like she wanted to ask Beatrix to stop talking. Or perhaps like she would run from the room. Instead, she said, “Well, I’m pleased that I could help you.”
Beatrix grinned ruefully. “Me, too. I wasn’t ready to die.”
Carrow smiled, seeming satisfied. “Thank you, Eve. I was dying to hear what you know about this.”
“Not much, I’m afraid,” Eve said. “I don’t know anything more than that.”
“Neither do I.” Carrow looked at me. “But I think this has to do with us. I think I can use this to save you.”
I frowned, completely lost. “You’re going to need to elaborate, because I cannot see the connection.”
Carrow went to the table and picked up the small book that Seraphia had unlocked yesterday. “This book ignited something in my magic. It allowed me to bring Beatrix back from the dead.”
“But how?” None of this made any sense.
As I listened, she told a story of using the book to control her magic in a way that allowed her to help Beatrix transition from raven to human. “But what I don’t understand is how she went from dead girl to raven,” she concluded. “And how that might apply to you.”
That was a definite gap in the story. I looked at Beatrix. “Are you a supernatural?”
“They tell me that I am.” She pointed to Carrow and Mac. “But I don’t know what kind.”
I looked at Carrow. “Is her signature strong?”
“It’s thready,” she said. “Like it’s there, but struggling.”
Slowly, so as not to startle her, I approached Beatrix. “May I touch your hand? I am gifted with an excellent sense for reading magical signatures.”
“Um, sure…” Discomfort flickered across her face, but she held out her hand.
I rested mine over hers gently, feeling the faintest pulse of magic through her. It felt like a howling wind, high up in the atmosphere. Even the air that I breathed began to feel thin.
Beyond it, though…
Beyond it, I felt Carrow.
My gaze flicked to Carrow. “Did you sense your own signature on her?”
“No.” Confusion flashed on her face. “I felt a powerful wind, and the air was thin in my lungs, but there was nothing of mine.”
“But there is.” I focused more intently on Beatrix’s magic. “Deep in her soul, there is a small part of you. I can feel it. There’s no doubt that it is your magic.”
“Really?” Carrow approached.
I removed my hand from Beatrix’s and stepped back. Carrow raised her own hand. “Do you mind?”
Beatrix shook her head, and Carrow touched her shoulder. She closed her eyes and focused. Seconds passed, then a minute. Her eyes opened, and she removed her hand. “Maybe I feel it. It’s hard to say.”
“Well, I think I feel it,” Beatrix said. “Like you’re with me. It’s what drew me to you while I was still a raven and didn’t have my memory.”
Carrow turned to me. “This is the mystery that I want to get to the bottom of. If I could do this for her, then maybe I can do it for you.”
“Break the curse?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t understand how it could work. I just know that it could. And that this book”—she raised it—“has answers.”
“Did you read it all?”
“I couldn’t.” She flipped it open and showed me.
The text was indecipherable. More like tiny images of intricate shapes—not a language I’d ever seen.
“The whole thing is like this,” she said. “I want to take it back to Seraphia.”
“We’ll do that now.” I looked at her, unsure of how any of this would work. Were we even on the right path? My dream had made it clear that our time was short, and the afterworld beckoned.
10
Carrow
I looked at Beatrix, wondering what to do with her while Grey and I sought answers. She looked confused and worried. Mac had kindly offered to keep her company, but it seemed unfair to leave her here while there was so much outside my small flat. And I missed my friend.
“Want to see a bit of the city?” I asked.
Beatrix nodded, her expression lightening. “Yeah. I suppose I need to sort my life out, now that I have it back.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I said, unable to help looking back at Grey.
I could feel Beatrix watching the two of us, her radar going wild. She’d been my friend for so long that she knew when I liked a guy. And what I felt for Grey was far from something so simple and juvenile as like.
I grabbed my jacket and the book, making sure that Rasla’s seal was inside the jacket pocket. Together, we left the flat. At the street, Eve veered off for her shop, looking back twice at Beatrix, her brow creased with concern. There were hidden depths to Eve, and I was glad she’d felt comfortable enough to admit what she had.
Now we just needed to figure out my exact role and how I could use my strange skills to help Grey.
Mac, clever genius that she was, stuck close to Beatrix, pointing out the different sights around town. I remembered my first days there. My old friend would be having a hard time falling asleep tonight. Mac’s actions gave Grey and me a bit of privacy, and he joined me, walking close by my side.
“Thank you for the coffee,” I said.
“My pleasure.” He looked down at the book. “You truly think you have the ability to break the curse?”
“Yes.” I could feel it. “Or at least, I have the abilit
y to fix our situation. I don’t know how, but my magic is screaming it. If only Seraphia can help decipher the book.”
We reached the library a few moments later.
Unlike the last times we’d visited, Seraphia was loitering outside the front door. She looked like she’d recently showered and put on fresh clothes, and her eyes looked well rested. She clutched a mug of tea and stared up at the clouds.
“She seems a bit more herself,” I said.
Grey nodded.
Seraphia caught sight of us and smiled. “How was the book?”
“Unexpected.” I stopped in front of her and removed it from my pocket. “It’s written in a language I don’t recognize.”
“Really?” She frowned. “I’d have assumed it would be English, given where you found it.”
“Me, too. But it’s not.” I opened it and showed her the strange scribblings. “Check it out. The writing is insane.”
She squinted at it, then gasped, her grip loosening on her mug. The ceramic cup slipped from her fingers, and Grey reached down, snagging it before it hit the ground.
“No way,” she breathed, reaching for the book with a trembling hand. I let her have it, and she raised it to her face. Quickly, carefully, she flipped through the pages, her jaw slackening. “I’ve never seen one of these before.”
“What is it?” I could feel Mac and Beatrix crowding close.
“Just a moment, and I’ll confirm my suspicions.” She turned and hurried into the library.
We followed, Beatrix gasping upon entrance. Seraphia raced to her worktable, winding her way through the shelves, and we hurried after her. She bent over the table, laying the book out flat and opening it to a random page. Quickly, she ducked under the table and disappeared.
I bent down to peer underneath, then spotted her opening a secret compartment set into the floor.
“I trust you,” she said. “Or you’d never see this.”
With a few deft maneuvers, she lifted up one of the wooden floorboards, and her hand trembled as she withdrew a box. The ornately carved wood gleamed with the patina of careful care. Quickly, she climbed out from under the table and set the box on the surface.