Sound returned next. The faint crackle of firewood. Wind raging over the eaves. Branches tickling the windows. Dogs whimpering.
Bri coughed and cracked her eyes open. The sitting room was shadowed except for the glowing rings of molten gold staring back at her.
Lucas’s face was pallid and lined with strain, his stubbled jaw tense as he scanned her. Then his hands slid away, and his eyes rolled back into his head. He collapsed back to the floor, bringing her down on top of him.
She had no strength to push off his giant chest or free herself from his arms, which seemed to weigh a hundred pounds each. Any exertion made her dizzy.
Warm, tingling magic rippled beneath her, and she found herself lying half on top of and half beside a furry beast the size of a small horse. Its fur was thick and soft and smelled of leather and spice. The wolf let out a long, shuddering huff and began to snore softly.
Too weak to manage anything else, Bri slid to the floor and nestled into the crescent of the giant body. Two other warm, furry bodies curled up on her other side, and she let the coils of exhaustion pull her under.
She woke tightly tucked into her own clean sheets. The house was quiet as she slipped from the bed and stepped out to the hall landing. The echo of the grandfather clock ticked, matched only by the scuffle of Maggie as she trotted into the foyer and yawned.
“Lucas?”
No answer. If she hadn’t still been wearing yesterday’s clothes, if burnt-down candles weren’t scattered all over the living room, she might have thought she’d dreamt the whole thing.
No, it was real.
What had happened? How had she been able to touch Kean? To physically go to that grey place? And where had Lucas gone? Now that she was more than semi-conscious, she remembered him passing out as soon as she had returned. Was he all right?
For her part, she felt… good. No, better than good. She’d slept soundly through the night. And morning, she realized glancing at the clock. She hadn’t felt this rested since…she couldn’t remember. Her head was clear, her body free of aches and tightness.
The mirror held more surprises for her. The smudges under her eyes had miraculously disappeared, and there was color in her cheeks. She had an extra spring in her step, as if she weighed less, and yet she felt stronger. Sturdier.
She was also starving.
As usual, there wasn’t much in her fridge besides leftovers and dog food, so she showered and bundled up for the two-mile walk into town. Lucas’s motorcycle was gone, leaving a swarm of questions stirred up in her mind. She could still feel the slightly raised and itchy skin where his magic had melted into her arm. She contemplated sending him a three-letter text but thought better of it. She should talk to Astrid first.
Things had changed. She had touched Kean last night. She had travelled to that grey place. But how? And what did it mean?
She and Kean had tried to form a more solid connection before with no luck. She should be encouraged by the progress, but her heart gave a painful squeeze thinking of Kean’s hollow eyes as he’d watched her go. Had he pushed her out on purpose? Could she ever go back now? If she could visit and return from his plane, maybe she could bring him back with her.
If you can even figure out how to get back there again.
She grumbled with frustration at her own lack of magical knowledge and spent the rest of the walk to town debating how to reveal to her best friend that their coven-brother was a Lumere. She couldn’t avoid it any longer.
The storm had passed, the only evidence of it a thin veil of lace across the sky and the debris shaken loose from the trees. Despite the chill in the air, Bri was flushed and sweating by the time she reached the stained-glass doors of the Devil’s Pub and Brewery.
The bar was a solid piece of redwood with the faint outline of ghostly faces burned into it. A giant cauldron with fake silk flames was the centerpiece of the bar, surrounded by all the liquor bottles. Artificial drip candles mounted to the walls and hanging from rustic chandeliers provided the only light in the room. Bri was grateful to slip out of her hulking wool coat as she sidled to her usual corner of the bar, where the locals could come and go without having to acknowledge her, or vice-versa.
The pub was packed with the usual lunch crowd, mostly Zyne. Sammy, one of the new hires for the upcoming summer rush, finished changing out a tab and smiled at Bri as she sauntered over.
“My, you’re looking fresh,” she said in greeting.
“Thanks.” Bri smiled back, unsure what to make of the compliment. Sammy was a transplant from a coven in Missouri–maybe it was midwestern slang?
“I’ll grab the boss.”
“And some chowder and bread, please,” Bri called out as Sammy passed through the swinging door to the kitchen.
Sammy returned a moment later to set a piping hot bowl in front of Bri and pour her usual iced-tea before traipsing off to bus some empty tables in the back.
Drool almost oozed out of Bri’s mouth before she shoveled the first spoonful. She was scraping the edges of the bowl with her third piece of bread by the time Astrid appeared.
Blessed with eternal youth–at least she looked like it–Astrid’s porcelain skin was permanently bronzed with a kiss of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Her heart-shaped face, chopped silvery-purple hair, and slight stature gave the impression of innocence. Or maybe it was her standard uniform of t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. Today’s was another classic: If you can’t stir with the big girls, step away from the cauldron. But anyone who met Astrid learned quickly that even though there wasn’t much bark, there was plenty of bite. Bri and Kean called her their Prickly Pear, thanks to her acerbic wit and general disdain for “mushy nonsense”.
Astrid hung her apron on a hook and strode around the bar looking harried, her thoughts elsewhere. She glanced up at Bri and did a double-take. Bri grabbed her napkin and wiped her face, assuming she had a clot of chowder on her chin.
“What?” she asked, meeting Astrid’s wide, startled eyes.
“Did you have a spa day on the mainland?”
“Huh?”
Astrid squinted and cocked her head, giving Bri a more thorough once-over. “Or get a vitamin B drip or something?”
Bri shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
Astrid snagged Sammy as she walked by and nodded to Bri. “Doesn’t she look different?”
Sammy grinned. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”
Though her stomach was still growling for more, Bri shoved her empty bowl aside and met their curious gazes with an irritated sigh. “You make it sound like I normally look like hell.”
Sammy had the wisdom to take that as her cue to leave.
“You never look bad.” Astrid sidled onto the stool beside her, still studying her face. “You usually seem so… haunted. But that’s not it.” She leaned back and looked again. “Your aura is all shiny. It’s had this dingy film on it ever since… Anyway, you must have had a good visit with the Fitzgerald clan, huh? Where’s my wine?”
Bri waved her hand through the air to brush away all the layers of unimportant chit-chat. She worried at her bottom lip as she considered where to begin.
She was saved from speaking by a jangle of the bell above the door. Bri followed Astrid’s suspicious gaze to spot a domineering male figure clad in a black leather jacket and aviator sunglasses, limned by the overcast white sky behind him.
Like animals at a watering hole when the apex predator arrives, a hush passed over the Zyne gathered in the pub, followed by a wave of female tittering from a table of mainland college girls.
Bri’s mouth went dry, and her heartbeat kicked up. A tingle of warmth pulsed across her arm. She hissed and turned back around.
“Good afternoon, ladies.” Lucas removed his sunglasses and jacket and took the empty seat on Bri’s other side. “Fancy meeting you here.”
Bri glared into her iced tea, annoyed by the swagger in his tone. Maybe Kean was right, and Lucas couldn’t be trusted. He’d cajoled
his way into her house, made friends with her dogs, unlocked one of her most guarded secrets, and convinced her to do magic in front of him. Then everything had gone wonky. Had it all been some ploy to get that shackle on her arm? Had he used it to track her, or was he stalking her? “What are you doing here?”
Astrid couldn’t decide whether to stand or stay seated on the stool, since she was technically shorter standing. She gaped at Bri, pummeling her with silent questions, which Bri deflected by covering her face with her hands.
“According to Yelp—that’s an app on my phone,” Lucas leaned in to say conspiratorially, “this pub has the best food in the islands. I find myself especially hungry today.”
She peeked through her fingers in time to catch a cocky smirk as he made a show of perusing his menu.
Deciding that she needed to take back the upper hand, Astrid marched behind the bar and crossed her arms over her chest, her pointed stare bouncing from Bri to Lucas and back.
Sorry, Bri mouthed. She had intended to fill Astrid in on everything, even last night. There was a lot to tell, and she’d planned to warm up to it slowly. Astrid was usually the voice of reason when Bri and Kean got hot-headed, but her temper was a force of its own once conjured. Bri was expecting to face it full blast when Astrid learned the secret she’d been keeping.
They’d gained an audience. A few North Wake coven members sidled up to the bar. Though Astrid and Kean had left that coven to form an independent one with Bri, Astrid had been a member of North Wake for many years. Whatever they thought of Bri–and it was no secret most of the town saw her as a blight on their fine, upstanding magical community–they still had Astrid’s back.
“Everything alright, Astrid?” the largest man asked, staring directly at Lucas, whose eyes flashed with a taunting hint of golden fire.
Immortals and Zyne did not mix well. They weren’t supposed to mix at all, aside from at the Arcanum. For most, an encounter with an immortal was either a death sentence, if the immortal was rogue, or still serious trouble if they served the Synod.
“Everything’s fine, boys. Have another round on the house.” Astrid waved at Sammy, who nodded and went to fill a beer pitcher. Astrid continued to study Bri and Lucas, her foot tapping impatiently as one eyebrow climbed higher and higher on her face. “Somebody better start talking.”
Bri opened her mouth to speak, but Lucas cut her off. Again.
“I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced,” he said, holding out his hand.
Astrid gave him a calculating look before taking it.
“Astrid Edgewood.” Her brow crinkled as he subtly sniffed the back of her fingers before pressing his lips there in a courtly greeting. “This is my bar.”
“It’s an honor, Miss Edgewood. Any friend of Bri’s is a friend of mine.” He winked at Bri. “I am Lucas Moncrieffe, at your service. And this fine establishment comes highly recommended.”
Astrid sighed and grumbled, “Something to drink?”
His gleaming white teeth lit up their dark corner of the room. “Three glasses of your best Scotch. And another round for the house.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Cash or credit?”
He retrieved a wallet from his back pocket and produced a black American Express card with his name clearly emblazoned on it.
“I.D.?” Astrid drawled.
He flicked a legit-looking–yet obviously totally fake–driver’s license out of his wallet too.
Astrid looked them over, shrugged, and retrieved a footstool from the corner. She climbed atop it to pull down a dusty bottle tucked in the back of her top shelf.
Lucas leaned in toward Bri as Astrid set out three tumblers and poured, his gaze drinking in every detail of her face in a way that called all the blood to her cheeks. “You’re looking well, Briana.”
She glared at him. “And why is that, exactly? What did you do to me?”
He’d spoken about completing a ritual. What if he’d lied about what that entailed? Kean had warned her…
Lucas sniffed at his glass and swirled it, biding his time, attention lingering on the invisible band around her arm before he took a sip and his eyelids fluttered closed. “This is not the time or place for that conversation. We should speak somewhere private.”
“He’s right. We can go to my office.” Astrid slid Bri’s glass in front of her and swirled the amber liquid in her own. She took a small sip and then set it aside, flicking a bar towel over her shoulder.
“But first, if I may, I’d like to order,” Lucas said. “I’m famished.”
Bri’s stomach echoed that sentiment, and her cheeks heated at his pleased smile.
He ordered two bowls of chowder, two baskets of fish and chips, which he insisted Bri share, and two sixteen-ounce steaks. Rare. He drank half of the three-thousand-dollar bottle of scotch and showered Astrid with compliments over each course, but Bri was thankful her best friend was immune to flattery and took the opportunity to grill him instead.
What was he doing away from the Arcanum?
He had left his post.
Was that allowed?
Yes, after their sentence was complete, Kinde were free to roam among mortals if they wished.
Bri hadn’t thought to use it before, but when she looked at Lucas with her Second Sight, she saw that his magical collar was indeed gone. Unfortunately, doing that also revealed the rest of Lucas’s silvery magic, including a thread of it that connected to her. Had that always been there? There was also a bright coil of living moonlight circling her left biceps.
Astrid was polishing glasses as they ate, and she still hadn’t let up. “So, now that you’re free of the Synod, I guess you’ll be heading home?”
Lucas shrugged as he finished chewing.
“And where is that?”
“France, isn’t it?” Bri chimed in. Though she had no idea where he’d come from before she’d known him four centuries ago, aside from Khaos–the demon realm.
“Currently, home is a boat moored in the harbor.”
“What?” Bri almost choked on a french fry. “Since when?”
“Three days ago.”
Three days ago. He had retired from his post, bought a boat, and moored it two miles from her house. Then yesterday, on the full moon, they run into each other. Was it Fate? Or the result of meticulous, devious planning?
The only thing you can rely on is that they’re self-serving, Kean’s words echoed back to her.
There was no way to be certain. Lucas’s eyes were a shifting storm, and every time she tried to read them, she got sucked into her memories. Vivianne’s memories.
Astrid’s gaze flitted between the two of them with undisguised suspicion. “I think it’s time for that private conversation.”
Chapter Five
Lucas followed Bri and Astrid up the narrow, rickety staircase behind the kitchen to an even narrower doorway. He ducked his head and emerged into a vaulted attic space overflowing with shelves of greenery and quite an impressive collection of rare spellbooks.
A hair-raising screech tore through the air, and Lucas yanked Bri behind him as he narrowly dodged a blur of claws and feathers streaking past his face. A giant owl landed before them with a thump and paced like a sentry, puffing its chest and hissing.
“Oh, that’s just Loki.” Bri slid around him and patted the bird on the head as she joined Astrid across the room. With a teasing glint in her eye, she asked, “What’s the matter? Your Dr. Doolittle act doesn’t work on birds?”
“Apparently not,” he deadpanned.
Loki gave a menacing snap of his beak aimed at Lucas’s tender bits, and he took another step back. His boots crunched on something, and a current of magic rushed over him, ruffling his hair with a slight breeze. He glanced down to see that he was now standing in a spelled circle of rock salt. He tried to take another step but could not even lift his boot from the floor.
“Good boy, Loki,” Astrid said.
The owl fluffed his feathers and retreated to a
perch by the doorway.
Lucas tried to lift his foot again, shaking with the effort.
Trapped!
He gritted his teeth, barely controlling the instinct to snarl.
“Sorry,” Astrid said, “but you’re not going anywhere until we get some straight answers.”
Bri’s smile evaporated. She appeared equally shocked by the mood shift of their hostess. “Astrid, this really isn’t necessary.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Astrid kicked out a stool at the planting counter and hopped onto it, gesturing for Bri to take the chair behind the desk, and then leveled a penetrating stare at him. “Let’s start with that spell wrapped around Bri’s arm.”
A ghost of panic crossed Bri’s face, and he couldn’t tell if it was because she was afraid he would answer, or that he would deflect the question to her. He chose the most neutral approach.
“Bri performed a ritual last night while I was at her house.”
Bri slid into her seat, eyes wide, but nodded for him to go on.
“I believe she crossed planes, though I have not heard her version of things yet. When I saw her spirit leaving her body, I panicked and wrapped a cord of my magic around her.” He hadn’t intended to, it had been sheer instinct.
Astrid’s gaze snapped to Bri. “Why were you doing circle alone? We are supposed to be a coven.”
“You haven’t said anything about it since Yule!” Bri bristled, then her tone softened. “I thought maybe you didn’t want to without Kean.”
A long, mournful silence stretched between them as they stared at each other.
Lucas cleared his throat. “Can I be released now?”
“I’m not done with you,” Astrid snapped, and he realized he hadn’t curried any favor there. A pity. He genuinely liked Bri’s spritely coven mate. He appreciated her blunt manner of speaking and dry humor. And he was pleased to discover that she was cunning and powerful enough to trap and restrain him. A good ally for his witch to have.
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