“Was it you?” I whispered, curling my body tighter to his. “Are you that hole in my memory? Did you save me and deliver me to my sisters?”
“Right out from under Xandros’ nose? That seems a terribly risky task, Andy.” I dared a glance up at him, but his face gave nothing away. “Besides, I think that’s something you would remember, don’t you agree?”
“I suppose so. It’s just that Petal—”
“You need sleep, Andy. Perhaps your dreams will finally avail the truth.”
I propped up on my elbow to look at him, his face so serene, his eyes so gentle. But there was a twinkle in them; a spark of mischief that made me wonder. “Zen, you wouldn’t lie to me about this, would you?”
“There’s truly no way to answer that question, so perhaps you should just go to sleep.” He placed his hands on the sides of my face and kissed me softly as he murmured something under his breath. I felt myself drifting off, and when I fell asleep, the dream that had plagued me once again awaited. But this time, I did not awaken before it finished. This time, I saw a clawed hand strike Xandros down before wrapping around my waist. The darkness that came for me came for us both, and the two of us—the demon and I—shot forth into the streets of New York, hidden by the shadows. There, in the alcove of the Sisters of Sacred Hope, the beast laid me down. Before he stood to leave, he carefully smoothed my hair from my face.
“They will keep you safe until we meet again.” Then he stood, leathery torso bathed in gaslight, and disappeared from sight.
Zen had saved me from my fate and delivered me to my future. He’d restored my soul and renewed my faith. He’d given me the key to the revenge I’d long sought and so much more. From that day forth, I knew I would always have him on one side and the Lilies on the other, working together to bring down the evil infesting New York City.
Because that was our destiny.
EPILOGUE
Ivy
The sound of merriment followed me out the door of Whittle House as I stepped into the crisp, clear night. The party to celebrate the fake newlyweds was in full swing, and though I loved seeing Oleander so happy—so free from the burdens of her past—I had to go. An urgent note had arrived from Agnes by courier. One of the new girls was having terrible nightmares and was inconsolable. She thought I’d best attend to her; that my understanding of her particular situation would lend itself to the task.
I rushed through the gaslit streets with a growing sense of urgency as the faces of our most recently acquired victims ran through my mind. How relieved yet terrified they’d looked as we’d blasted our way through their brothel, and anyone that had stood in our way. How their eyes had pleaded to be saved while they’d cowered in fear of what they’d just seen; what we’d done to save them. It had taken Willow’s gentleness and Hazel’s humor to draw them to us. But it was I who had gained their trust since that night, telling tales of my own childhood.
Tales we shared in common.
My pace quickened, knowing how hard the youngest of the group had taken the upheaval. Add in what I suspected to be magical heritage, and she was a potential crisis waiting to happen. Time was of the essence.
I turned onto Second Avenue and hurried toward the nunnery, which had just come into view in the distance. It shone like a beacon in the silvery light of the moon, which it was to so many. As I grew closer, a tiny whisper carried to me on the wind—a nearly silent cry for help. With determined strides, I stormed down the road, focused solely on that call. It grew fainter by the second, and I feared I wouldn’t find it in time—that it would be snuffed out before I could reach its owner.
Reginald appeared high above, and I whispered for him to search the area for trouble—a sign of someone in need of my help. Seconds later, his caw rent the air, and he swooped in front of me, guiding me down an alley on the right not far ahead. I skittered around the corner, boots slipping in the muck of the city. I crashed into the brick façade, then righted myself as I plunged deeper into the darkness. The tall buildings surrounding the narrow way choked off much of the light, but a patch illuminated something in the distance. A small body crumpled up in a heap in the center of the alley.
And covered in blood.
“No,” I gasped as I ran toward the poor girl, praying I wasn’t too late. Dropping to my knees, I turned her over slowly. The dead, ice-blue eyes of one of my wards stared back. Her throat had been slit like macabre smile on her neck and she’d bled to death, quietly begging for help as her life had slipped away.
Anger, hot and familiar, thrummed through me as I pulled her into my lap and held her close. “I will find who did this,” I whispered to her as I smoothed her hair from her face, “and I will make them pay.”
With a gentle kiss to her forehead, I laid her back down in the pool of her blood.
“Police!” a booming voice called from behind me, and panic quickly replaced my anger. My dress and cloak were covered in the girl’s blood, and I was not acting the way a normal human who’d happened upon a corpse would have. Even a well-played act of hysterics wouldn’t save me at that point. “Stand up slowly and turn around.”
I lifted my cloak over my head and dared a glance at the window on my left—the one that clearly reflected a tall and formidable policeman standing no more than ten feet behind me, his sharp features focused intently on me.
“I said, stand up and turn around.” The hand resting on his gun slowly pulled it free.
“I did not do this,” I said, altering my voice to a deep, husky tone.
The click of the revolver’s hammer echoed through the narrow way. “That’s for a court of law to determine,” he replied.
Rising slowly, I kept my gaze on the window and my back to the officer. Revealing myself wasn’t an option for myriad reasons, and with no other viable escape, I knew magic would have to be my savior. I began muttering a spell beneath my breath as he approached me with cautious steps.
Then the piercing sound of a scream ripped through the eerie silence, and his head snapped toward Second Avenue. The moment he turned, I sprinted for the far end of the alley.
“Stop!” he yelled after me as I neared the corner. The second I rounded it, I shot into the air, calling the wind to carry me to the top of the building. I landed softly and ducked in time to see him continue past, searching for me in every nook and cranny and alcove.
Another scream tore through the night air, but this time, I recognized it.
I hoisted my skirts high and darted across the roof, jumping from building to building as my heart rammed against my ribs, until I reached the Sisters of Sacred Hope. With a graceful leap, I landed behind the building and fastened my midnight cloak to hide the blood of my fallen ward as I rushed to see if her fate had befallen others. If their deaths were the reason for Agnes’ cries.
As I rounded the building, the young novitiate turned to me, tears staining her anguished expression. She collapsed into me and cinched her arms around my waist like a vise.
“Agnes, what’s happened—”
““It’s too late, Miss Ivy,” she said over and over again. “It’s too late—"
I pulled her off of me and grabbed her shoulders. Fear churned in my veins as I thought of the sweet child now dead in the alley. “What do you mean ‘it’s too late’, Agnes?”
The unadulterated terror in her eyes sent a shiver down my spine.
“I mean they’re gone, Miss Ivy,” she said, choking back a sob. “All the girls are gone.”
Preorder Ivy’s Story Before You Go
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Read on for more information about the next book in the series!
NEXT IN THE SERIES
Ivy Foxglove, the fearless but mildly uptight leader of the Gilded Lilies, may have met her match in the young, sexy police officer, Emmett Martens.
She’s trying to find who’s killing the missing girls of the Sisters of Sacred Hope.
He’s working hard to prove it’s her.
Get ready for some serious ene
mies to lovers vibes in this witchy Charmed meets The Black Dagger Brotherhood mashup.
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Amber Lynn Natusch is the author of the bestselling Caged, as well as the Force of Nature series. She was born and raised in Winnipeg, and speaks sarcasm fluently because of her Canadian roots. She loves to dance and sing in her kitchen—much to the detriment of those near her—but spends most of her time running a practice with her husband, raising two small children, and attempting to write when she can lock herself in the bathroom for ten minutes of peace and quiet.
She has many hidden talents, most of which should not be mentioned but include putting her foot in her mouth, acting inappropriately when nervous, swearing like a sailor when provoked, and not listening when she should. She’s obsessed with home renovation shows, should never be caffeinated, and loves snow. Amber has a deep-seated fear of clowns and deep water…especially clowns swimming in deep water.
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A Curse of Nightshade (Witches of the Gilded Lilies Book 1) Page 27
