Dark Secrets

by Hall, Linsey

  “There’s no guild tower in this square.” Mac pointed to an empty expanse of wall that pulled at me strangely. “This area is deserted. There may have been shops and restaurants here once, but not in my lifetime.”

  The grass in the square was damp and scraggly, with wildflowers blooming in patches. The vegetation looked weak and limp, as though struggling to suck nutrients from the oppressive air.

  The city wall, constructed of massive stones, rose tall and beckoned. “Where are we in relation to the gate that leads to the Haunted Hound?”

  “Not far,” Mac said. “It’s to our left a few hundred meters, as the crow flies.”

  “Are there any guild towers between here and there?” I asked.

  “No. The closest guild tower is to our right, and it’s another few hundred meters away.”

  “So nothing really happens here.” I eyed the statue of a man in the middle of the square. It was an ancient stone thing, worn and battered by time and the elements.

  A bird sat on top of its head, black and regal.

  “Is that Eve’s raven?” I asked.

  Mac tilted her head. “Maybe. But don’t ask her.”

  Our fae friend was followed everywhere by a black raven she claimed not to see. I’d learned the hard way that she got plenty annoyed if you asked her about it.

  “Who was that guy?” I asked.

  “Councilor Rasla.” There was a slight edge to Mac’s voice. “Bloke’s been dead a few hundred years, but he was the one who put the strict guild rules into place.”

  “That everyone must join one?” I asked. “No weirdos allowed in Guild City?”

  “That’s the one.” Mac’s lips twisted.

  “Jerk.”

  “It explains why all the local birds are using his head for a loo.” Mac pointed to the statue, which was covered in white drips.

  I smiled, but even the joke wasn’t enough to distract me from the tug on my soul. I slowly approached the wall, curiosity pulling at me. As I cut across the grassy square, I avoided the larger clumps of flowers that were wet from the rain. The day was too cool to get my trousers soaked.

  But the closer I came to the wall, the more strongly it pulled.

  It almost…sang to me.

  I picked up the pace, forgetting my reluctance to wade through the flowers. Vaguely, I recognized that the calves of my jeans were getting wet, but I plowed onward, determined to reach the wall.

  What was it about this place?

  “Carrow!” Mac’s voice sounded from behind me, echoing slightly with concern.

  I could barely hear it.

  I kept going, unable to resist the wall’s siren call.

  I reached it and pressed my hand to the rough, shimmering stone. Magic. Mac shouted my name again, but the stone wall held my attention. It pulsed, changing in temperature from cool to warm. Dark magic surrounded it, sickening me, but my fascination with the wall was stronger than my discomfort.

  A vision flashed in my mind of me walking into the wall, stepping through the stone, which should be impossible.

  What happened here?

  I asked the question but got no answer. Again, that steel barrier flew up between the information and my vision. This place was also protected by a spell.

  But something happened here.

  I pressed my hand harder to the stone, desperate to figure it out.

  “Carrow!” Mac’s voice was at my ear now, and her hands wrapped around my arms. She pulled me back, yanking hard.

  My hand broke contact with the wall, and I stumbled against Mac. Her arms tightened around me.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, struggling in her grasp.

  “You went into some kind of trance.”

  I turned and caught sight of her white face. Seraphia stood next to her, a frown drawing her eyebrows together. “It was strange, Carrow,” said the librarian. “As you neared the building, you seemed to…disappear, almost.”

  “And your eyes are glowing again,” Mac said.

  Shit. I looked back at the wall. It still pulsed with magic. “I don’t understand. It calls to me, but it’s so dark.”

  “Because of Orion’s Heart?” Mac asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  I looked back at her and frowned. A dark light seemed to surround her. It came from the wall, creeping along the ground and up her legs. Seraphia glowed, too. They were standing close enough that the magic reached them.

  “Mac…” I touched her shoulder gently, but she didn’t feel any different. “You’re pale.”

  “I—” Her brow creased, and she grimaced, folding over on herself. “I don’t feel well,” she gasped.

  “Me, either,” Seraphia said, going to her knees.

  Panic flared. “What’s happened?”

  “A curse.” Mac straightened, her entire body shaking. “It’s the wall, somehow. I can feel it.”

  I looked back. The wall glowed with dark magic, magic that had infected Mac and Seraphia. My heart raced. “How do we fix you?”

  “Let’s go to Eve.” Mac looked at me, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Do you not feel bad?”

  “Not really, no.” I swallowed hard. Why was I so different?

  It wasn’t that I wanted to be cursed, but…

  why not me, too?

  “You have the faint darkness to you, though.” Seraphia staggered upright. “The curse seems to be hovering around you.”

  Maybe it likes me.

  It was a terrible thought.

  “We need to get you to Eve,” I said.

  “We also need to figure out what the hell this is.” Mac pointed to the wall, her voice firmer. “She can’t fix us if we don’t know what the curse is.”

  “Have you ever heard of anyone being cursed by a wall?” Even the words sounded insane.

  “No.” Mac shook her head. “But objects can hold curses, and this is a particularly big object.”

  “Then how did it get cursed? And with what?” I clenched my fist, resisting the urge to touch it. It was hard, though. The darkness in the stones called to me.

  But I don’t want to be that person.

  I turned from the wall.

  “We can get ourselves to Eve,” Mac said. “But we need you to figure out what’s going on. Are you okay here alone?”

  “Yeah. Fine.” I stepped away from the wall, hoping to fight its fascination. The weight of my bag pulled at my shoulder, the book reminding me of its presence. “Seraphia, have you found anything else about this in the library?”

  “Nothing. I checked the entire history section, too, hoping to find a clue about the missing pages.”

  I nodded. “Okay. I know someone to ask.”

  Mac’s gaze flicked to mine. “The Devil?”

  Seraphia’s eyes widened. “The Devil of Darkvale?”

  I nodded. “He’s immortal and helped found Guild City. He’s the only one I know who was around when any of this happened. Surely he has to know what is going on here.”

  Seraphia nodded, but her tone was clipped with wariness. “If you say so.”

  “Come on, pal.” Mac reached a supporting arm around Seraphia. “You’re looking pretty pale. We need to get you to Eve.”

  “Thanks.” Seraphia shot Mac a grateful look, as if she were unused to such kindness.

  “Update me as soon as Eve helps you,” I said.

  “Likewise,” Mac said. “I want to know what the hell is going on here.”

  I nodded, watching them turn and limp across the grassy square. At one point, they fell to their knees, and fear surged through me, blocking my throat.

  This could kill them.

  The wall still pulled at me. Everything in my soul wanted me to turn around and press my entire body against it.

  Nope.

  The sight of Mac and Seraphia dragging themselves to their feet gave me the strength to resist. I kept my gaze on the two women for support as I followed them away from the overgrown square. Exiting the dingy alley, I made for t
he Devil’s tower. Grey’s tower, as I now thought of it.

  It had been three days since I’d appeared before the council with Grey at my side. Three days since I’d seen him, but I had a problem, a big problem that I didn’t fully understand.

  And I was going to bring that problem straight to the devil himself.

  3

  Carrow

  The journey to Grey’s tower was a blur. People thronged the streets, shopping or out for lunch, but the wall and the curse surrounding it were the only things on my mind.

  We’d just saved Guild City from a deadly threat. Was I now going to have to save my friends from another one?

  I wasn’t sure I was up for the job.

  But I had to be.

  Finally, I reached the clearing in front of Grey’s tall, dark tower. Powerful and mysterious, Grey had been here since the city was founded. He owned his own tower, the only individual who could make that claim. The black stone was imposing, and the red glass in the windows emphasized that this was the Devil’s lair.

  The truth of him was far more complicated, I’d come to learn.

  The two bouncers at the door nodded in recognition. Both were shifters, members of the guild that handled security and protection details in town. One was a lion and the other a panther, if I recalled correctly. I returned the gesture, hurrying past them and into the small foyer of the Devil’s domain.

  As usual, Miranda stood at the desk. She was dressed impeccably in her uniform of pencil skirt, blouse, and stilettos, her hair pulled back in a neat twist at the base of her neck.

  Only the uninitiated would think that the beautiful banshee was just a hostess.

  “You’re here to see him?” asked Grey’s right-hand woman.

  “I am.”

  She raised her comms charm to her lips and spoke into it, murmuring low. I could hear the faint echo of Grey’s voice as he answered her, but it was too quiet for me to make out.

  She lowered the device and looked up at me. “I’ll take you.”

  “Thanks.”

  She gestured for me to follow her and strode down the hall, her tall heels clicking against the floor.

  Somehow, I just knew she was the kind of woman who could run in those things. She could probably even blind a man with them, all without so much as slipping them off.

  We passed by Grey’s nightclub. It was almost certainly a front for his illegal business dealings, but I was confident he didn’t do anything too ethically questionable. The Council held such tight control over Guild City’s magic that smuggling allowed Grey to make a fortune without dealing in people, weapons, or drugs, like so many human mobsters did.

  Miranda passed Grey’s office and kept going toward his private quarters.

  My brows rose. It was well into the workday already, but he was seeing me in his living space?

  As always, I wanted to ask Miranda more about Grey. There was so much that I didn’t know about my Cursed Mate.

  But I’d be a fool to ask.

  She’d never betray him, not with so much as a morsel of information.

  She stopped outside of Grey’s chambers and rapped on the door.

  A moment later, it swung open. Grey’s tall form filled the doorway, and he was so handsome that he nearly burned my eyes. As usual, he wore one of his impeccable suits. He looked like a spy right out of a James Bond film in the elegant apparel. His sharp cheekbones and strong jaw were highlighted by a faint stream of light coming from the window, but it was his full lips that drew and held my gaze.

  “Thank you, Miranda.” His low voice feathered over my nerve endings.

  Miranda nodded and disappeared silently. I met his icy gray gaze. It warmed slightly at the sight of me.

  “Grey.”

  “Carrow.” He gestured for me to enter. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “I’m not sure it’s going to be a pleasure.”

  “Any time spent with you is, regardless of the circumstances.”

  “Um…” I didn't know what to say in response to his smoothness.

  I stepped into the main living room, struck again by how pristine and perfect it was. It was austere, yes, but so was he. At least on the outside. Like him, the space was gorgeous. An enormous glass window provided a view of a moonlit beach. Massive waves crashed on a rocky shore, the pale light making them sparkle like diamonds. It was magic, but it looked real. Through the bedroom door, I could see a sliver of the grand piano that sat in the corner.

  The lid was up, as if he’d recently been playing.

  It hadn’t been up last time. Then, the piano had looked untouched for years. Centuries, maybe. The thin layer of dust on it and the air of neglect had been hard to miss.

  “Have you been playing the piano?” I hoped so. If he had been, I liked to think it was because of me, an indicator that he cared about me.

  Crazy and fanciful, maybe, but hell, I was crazy and fanciful.

  He nodded. “Yes.”

  I raised my brows, hoping he would continue. Of course, he didn’t.

  We weren’t there in our relationship. I cared for him more than I wanted to admit—more than made sense, even—but now wasn’t the time. I had Mac and Seraphia to think about.

  “Can I offer you anything?” Grey leaned against a heavy armchair, relaxed and casual, a predator, a lion lounging on the Savannah, ready to strike.

  Oddly, I wanted him to. I shivered.

  “No, thank you.” We’re Cursed Mates! I wanted to scream. But we still didn’t even know what that meant.

  “Are you here about the Council and joining a guild?”

  “No.”

  Though I should be more worried about that, considering my status. I didn’t belong to a guild. None would have me, as we’d both recently learned. A few days ago at a ceremony to help me find my place in Guild City, I’d been rejected by all.

  It didn’t matter that I didn’t particularly want to join one. I’d wanted the option, for God’s sake. I needed to be a member of a guild to stay in the city. As things stood, my days here were numbered. Especially since some Council members seemed to hate my guts, like Ubhan the sorcerer. Miserable bastard.

  I shook the thought away.

  “I thought I’d see you before now.” I nearly slapped a hand to my mouth. I hadn’t meant to admit that. It was like saying I cared for him.

  I did care for him, but I’d never tell him. Once we’d learned we were Cursed Mates, we’d agreed not to pursue the attraction between us. It was too dangerous.

  Even so, he’d asked me to stay with him after the Council meeting three days earlier. I’d said no. I was afraid, afraid of how quickly things were moving between us and of our status as Cursed Mates. He, it seemed, had temporarily lost his mind when he’d asked me, and now I’d lost mine by admitting that I’d hoped to see him.

  Cool and collected, nerd. Play it cool and collected.

  “It’s too dangerous,” he said.

  “Of course. Because of the Cursed Mates thing.”

  He nodded. “You had a vision of me drinking you to the death. I can’t ignore that.”

  I shivered at the memory. Obviously, he was right. We didn't know the exact specifics of our situation, but we knew enough.

  “I’m trying to figure out why we are what we are,” Grey said. “And how we can stop it. Until then, I thought it wise to avoid it entirely.”

  “Avoid me, you mean.” I nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. “Clever.”

  The briefest pain flickered in his eyes, and I wondered about the piano. Did he play that when he was distraught?

  Did a man like him even become distraught?

  That was probably the wrong word for it.

  “Fate has plans for us,” he said. “Being Cursed Mates is rare—exceedingly so. Until we know exactly what lies in store for us and how to avoid it, it’s too dangerous. But when I learn more, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Until then, it was just…this. Distance.

  It made s
ense. There was no arguing with something so rational.

  I shoved away thoughts of pianos and Cursed Mates and handsome vampires. I had far bigger problems right now, and the Cursed Mates thing could be dealt with later. Especially if we kept trying to ignore what was between us.

  I pulled the book from my bag and held it out to him. “This is why I’m here.”

  He frowned at it, then met my gaze. “What is the issue, specifically?”

  I flipped open the book and showed him the missing pages. “Someone tore them out, then enchanted the book so that I couldn’t see who did it or what the pages were about.”

  “I have a feeling this is about more than a vandalized book.”

  “A lot more.” I could tell him all about it, but it’d be far better to show him. “I need you to come with me.”

  The Devil

  Carrow led me through the bustling streets of Guild City, her stride long and confident. I couldn’t keep my gaze off her golden hair. It glinted in the weak sunlight. She’d given me back the full range of my vision. Thanks to her, I could see color again, taste things as they were meant to be, feel things.

  She had brought me back to life.

  I reached out for her, an unconscious gesture that shocked the hell out of me. Quickly, I curled my hand into a fist, lowering it to my side.

  Cursed Mate.

  I hadn’t lied when I’d said that I was trying to learn the specifics of the phenomenon, but it was proving to be exceedingly difficult.

  Her vision and the title of our affliction itself were clear enough. We were fated to be together, yet cursed to be torn apart. By me drinking her to the death.

  How the hell that would happen, though, I had no idea.

  There was something in me…this driving force…that compelled me to protect her. I hadn’t felt something so strong since the blood lust when I’d first been turned. But this…

  I couldn’t let anything bad happen to her.

  And this was all my fault. My touch was tainted. It had been so since I was turned. How could I be anything other than her Cursed Mate?