by Sarah Piper
“In other words, live out eternity trapped in the most fucked-up Groundhog Day in the universe?” I shook my head. “Hard pass.”
“You might reconsider, once I’ve shared the rest.”
A tremble rolled through my body, head to toe, but I held it together. “What’s behind lucky door number two?”
“I burn your life scroll, as Sebastian intended from the moment we made our first deal.”
“First. So this is part of a new deal, then?”
“It is. We have no other choice in the matter, Gray. This is his domain.”
“What does he want?” he asked, though I suspected I already knew the answer.
“He’ll allow me to escort your soul back to your body and reunite the two, restoring your life force. You’ll be physically alive and integrated, just as you were before you entered the Shadowrealm.”
“And my magic?”
“Shall be restored as well. Your power will continue to develop—to whatever extent you are allowed to continue your magical training and studies—and you will grow and age and transform as you normally would. Upon your natural death, you’ll… you’ll remain in his possession, per the terms of your original contract.”
I closed my eyes, the last of my hope evaporating. Of course Sebastian had thought of everything. The devil is in the details. For the first time in my life, I was starting to understand what that actually meant.
“So that’s it, then,” I said. “Stay here, or start a new life as the Prince of Hell’s magical plaything.”
Liam had the good sense not to try to soften the harsh reality of that situation. “If you need time to consider this, I can come back—”
“Oh, I’ve already made my choice, Liam. But you were wrong about one thing.”
“I was wrong about a great many things.”
“I’m talking about the part where you said this would be the last choice I’d ever be allowed to make.” I opened my eyes and glared at him. “I guarantee you it won’t be.”
Liam said nothing, but his lips held the hint of the same smile I’d caught in the Shadowrealm after I told him I wasn’t giving up hope—that I’d find a way out of there, no matter how impossible it seemed.
“So what have you decided, then?” he finally asked.
I tipped my head back and looked up at the sky, gazing across the spray of red stars. They were beautiful, yet eerie. Not home. Not true.
I took a deep breath, calling up the magic from deep inside. It answered immediately, swirling in my chest, buzzing through my nerves, across my skin, into my blood, right down to my very bones. I might not be able to use it here in Hell, but this magic was a part of me, something even Sebastian couldn’t take away.
I was done running from him. Done prolonging the inevitable. It was time to meet my so-called master and let him know exactly what I thought of that little arrangement.
Lowering my face once again, I met Liam’s intense gaze with my own brand of ferocity. He flinched in surprise, and I let out a laugh.
Then, with a smile on my face and all that beautiful, dark, incredibly powerful magic racing around inside me, I made my choice.
“Burn it, Liam.”
Nine
Emilio
“All non-fae travel has been restricted,” Jael said, helping himself to a second serving of Elena’s canelones de espinaca. “Communications into and out of the Bay are glamoured. I’d advise you not to trust any reports you receive from your men or anyone else in town, and don’t bother trying to warn them, either. They won’t receive your messages as you intended.”
I pushed my own plate away, my worries about the situation back home killing the last of my appetite. “They can do that? Glamour cell phone conversations?”
“Cell phones, texts, emails, handwritten letters, telegraphs, photos, websites, on and on. Anything can be glamoured to seem like something else, especially when the targets don’t realize they’re being targeted.”
“So coordinating a rescue from inside the city is out,” Elena said. “We’ll have to get in, but you say they’re restricting travel. Is there a way to get close, sneak in below their radar? Maybe send in undercovers?”
“You won’t get within fifty miles of the Bay,” he said. “You’ll drive your normal roads, of course, but then you’ll suddenly forget to make the turn. Or you’ll make the turn, only to end up right back where you began. Or you’ll swear you left for the Bay hours ago, only to find yourself in the bathtub enjoying a good soak. Fae glamour has many facets.”
Did we stand a chance? Darkwinter seemed to have the advantage at every turn. And they had the Council’s backing, besides.
What a mess.
“How did this even happen?” I asked, more to myself than anyone else, but Jael answered anyway.
“My sense is that Darkwinter and their allies have been planning this for some time, Talia’s involvement notwithstanding. Recent conditions in the Bay have made the city ripe for such a takeover.”
“How so?” Elena asked.
“The Bay was already in a state of chaos,” Jael said. “After word spread of the rash of violence against witches, many of the others began to flee.”
“It was safer for them to go,” I said defensively, thinking of Gray and Haley. Of Reva. If they’d gotten out earlier, maybe they’d be safe now, too. Maybe Gray wouldn’t be trapped in the Shadowrealm with a madman bent on killing her, and Reva and Haley wouldn’t be locked in that awful prison. “What would you have them do instead? Wait around to be caught by a hunter? To be carved up and experimented on, slaughtered in their own beds?”
Jael finally set down his fork, deep pain flashing in his eyes.
Too late, I realized my mistake.
He’d lost someone he loved in exactly the way I’d so gracelessly described.
Nice move, asshole.
“Jael, I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“I wanted to take her away,” Jael said softly. “But she wanted to stay. Sophie loved the Bay. It was her home. She loved Gray, too. I understand why you’re so upset about this situation, detective.” At this, he met my eyes again, his gaze fierce despite the calm, almost detached tone in his voice. “I’m asking you for the same understanding.”
“I… Of course,” I said. “I’m sorry, Jael. I should’ve been more… I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
In the awkward silence that followed, Elena cleared away some of the dishes and brought back a fresh pot of coffee, even stronger than the last one. She poured us each another cup—her fourth, my sixth, Jael’s second. It seemed we’d all accepted that sleep wasn’t an option tonight.
“I don’t blame the witches for leaving,” Jael finally said, stirring about half a cup of sugar into his brew. “I’m merely pointing out the facts. The power balance their absence created didn’t cause this, but it is a factor. One we must consider if we’re going to find a way to restore that balance.”
“A factor, yes,” I said. “Along with Darkwinter’s aspirations, Talia’s betrayal, and the hunters’ endless quest for the magic they believe is rightfully theirs. Not to mention the Council’s total fucking betrayal of their own oaths.” I gulped down half my coffee, ignoring the burn in my throat. “Looks like we’re about three kinds of fucked here, amigos.”
Jael didn’t disagree. “Another challenge we’re facing is the existing unrest within each supernatural sub-community. The vampires in particular have become unstable. Several factions are vying for Darius Beaumont’s territory. A group from the south has already taken control of his assets in town, including his apartment and the Black Ruby property.”
“What?” This was news to me. Vampire hierarchy had a lot of very definitive rules. One group couldn’t just move in on someone else’s territory—not without a whole lot of bloodshed. “Darius hasn’t formerly relinquished any of his holdings, and he isn’t dead. Who are these upstart vamps?”
“They’re unknown to me, but my understanding is th
at Darius lost respect in recent months after the slaughter of several of his own kind at Norah Hanson’s home. His involvement with the Grinaldi family has not helped matters. None of the squabbling vampire underlings seem to know where his loyalties lie, other than with a witch who up until a couple of months ago was utterly unremarkable. And now the vampire seems to have vanished altogether.”
“That’s ridiculous, Jael. The vamps we eliminated at the Hanson house were sent there to kidnap Gray and kill the rest of us. Hardly innocent victims.”
“Allegedly,” Jael said. “Remember, detective. The official story is typically the one written by those in power, regardless of how they came into such power. At the moment, they’ve set up camp in our city, while you and your allies appear to have fled. Whom does that leave to tell the tale?”
I conceded the point, despite the fact that it made my blood boil to imagine some rag-tag bunch of bloodsuckers invading Darius’s territory. He’d rip their throats out of he knew. Hell, I’d save him the trip and do it myself if I could get back there.
“So who’s pulling the strings?” Elena asked. “Darkwinter and the hunters are doing the dirty work, but someone must be financing the operation. Coordinating the takeover. Do you think it’s Talia?”
“I wondered about that, too, but…” Jael sipped his coffee, considering, then finally shook his head. “No. Talia has always thought very highly of herself, and her position on the Council does afford her some measure of power. But I’m fairly certain she’s not the ultimate player here. Someone—or someones—is leading the charge at a much higher level.”
“Probably sitting in a cushy office somewhere, keeping his hands clean.”
“Or hers,” Jael said.
“Or hers. Exactly.” I pushed back from my chair and got up to help Elena clear the last of the dishes, waving away Jael’s offer for help. He’d given us a lot to consider, and it all felt legit.
But something was still bugging me about it all.
Jael wasn’t on the Council. As far as I knew, his family made an honest living in the Bay through Illuminae—at least, as honest as a fae could be. Back in the fae realm, he was Seelie court royalty, but here in our world, he was a club deejay. Venerated by the groupies who flocked to Illuminae to hear him spin, but not someone I’d typically think of as a covert operator.
How, then, had he come across so much intel about Darkwinter’s actions?
I opened my mouth a dozen times to press him on it, but after putting my foot in my mouth about Sophie’s death, I didn’t want to risk offending him again. We needed him on our side.
Thankfully, Elena spared me the trouble.
Setting out a plate of homemade alfajores so thick with dulce de leche they were probably going to be the death of us all, she said, “Unfortunately, we can’t make a move on this intel until we verify it. The last thing we need is to expose ourselves because of a misguided operation based on incomplete or unverified information.”
“That’s going to be difficult,” he said, reaching for a cookie. “As I’ve said, communications into and out of the Bay are not reliable.”
Diplomatic as ever, she waited for him to take a bite, then went in for the kill shot. “So, who’s your source on this?”
Slowly, he finished chewing his cookie, clearly considering his next move. He held Elena in his gaze, but there was no malice there. If anything, he looked impressed.
Reaching for another cookie, he said, “My sister Kallayna has been working to infiltrate Darkwinter for quite some time. She’d heard whispers at Illuminae that the old lines were gathering strength, preparing to make a move in the Bay. Frightened by the possibilities, she encouraged these rumors, hoping to find out more information. Eventually she became aware that a Knight of Darkwinter had been spending time at the bar. She took her time, slowly getting him to trust her. To enjoy her company. They became quite close.”
“How close?” Elena asked.
“They’d started dating, and then Kallayna sensed things were getting more serious. He asked her to move in with him—he’d recently bought a home in the Bay. She was scared, of course, but she saw the opportunity for what it was and accepted his offer, pretending to be dissatisfied with our family.”
“And this Knight… he believed her?” I asked, finally sitting down again.
“As far as we know, yes. Though communicating with her has been difficult. We staged a very public, very brutal fight over her decision to move in with him, all to lend credence to her claims. She broke ties with me and turned her back on our legacy. Since then, she’s been sending me encrypted messages through a secure, non-glamoured channel magically routed through Fae, but the only way for her to access it is to leave the Bay, and she can’t do that without arousing suspicion.”
“If you knew what Darkwinter was planning,” I said, “why didn’t you come to us sooner?”
“Just like you, I needed to be certain before acting on the intel. We didn’t know exactly what they were planning—if anything. They could have just as easily been setting Kallayna up for a fall. I couldn’t risk that.”
“When was the last time you heard from her?” Elena asked.
“Two days ago—before the Knights secured the city.” He pressed a napkin to his lips and closed his eyes, his shoulders stiffening. It was the closest he’d come to losing his composure in my presence. “The thought of losing someone else I love…”
He trailed off, but I knew the “someone else” he’d been thinking of in that moment. I realized just how much restraint he’d shown tonight in not asking me for details, for updates on the case, not even when the subject of Sophie had come up earlier.
He had a right to know where things stood.
“Jael, we know who took Sophie’s life,” I said gently.
“Oh?” he asked calmly. He didn’t look up, didn’t show any outward reaction at all, but I sensed the need in his voice, that one-word reply heavy with equal parts pain and hope.
“Sophie and the other witches in Blackmoon Bay were murdered by Jonathan Reese,” I said. “He’s the man currently imprisoning Gray and the others. We don’t know whether he acted alone in the killings, but my gut says no. We already know he had accomplices in other attacks, including the one at Norah’s house, so it’s not a stretch to assume this is connected to the larger crime waves in the Bay as well as the Darkwinter takeover. I just wish I understood how all the pieces fit together.”
“Jonathan Reese?” Jael met my eyes across the table. I could practically see the wheels of his mind turning. “Possibly a relative of Phillip Reese?”
“Yes,” I said, recalling the name from what little I could find in Jonathan’s public records. “Phillip is his father—the hunter who killed Gray’s mother when she was a teenager. Do you know the man?”
“Kallayna has reported that her Darkwinter Knight has accompanied a human named Phillip Reese to at least three or four meetings with other Darkwinter soldiers. I don’t believe she knew he was a hunter. She hasn’t been privy to the meetings themselves—only to his comings and goings.”
“We already know from another source that Jonathan’s motive isn’t murder,” I said. “He’s developing the hybrid technologies, but his experiments often result in the death of his subjects. I just couldn’t figure out how he was getting his research to Darkwinter, or if they were running their own operation. But it’s his father. Phillip Reese is the connection.”
“I thought Jonathan was estranged from his father. That everything he does is in direct opposition to his father’s legacy.”
“That’s what we heard from one highly unreliable witness,” I said. “Fiona Brentwood is a vampire with an axe to grind.”
“Many people believe my sister and I are estranged,” Jael said with a casual shrug. “Perhaps it was all an act.”
We were all startled by my sister’s phone. She hopped up from the table and fished it from her pocket, disappearing into the living room. “Alvarez. What have you got for m
e?”
I turned my attention back to Jael, who’d just snuck in a third alfajor. When all this was over, we’d have to send him a whole box of them.
“You could be onto something with that estrangement act idea,” I said. “We hadn’t considered it from that angle.”
I popped an alfajor into my mouth, trying to process everything. It was entirely possible that there were multiple factions of hunter groups working together with Darkwinter, or that Jonathan and his father had set aside their differences to work against their common enemy. For all I knew, the prison was just one of many hybrid research sites.
The Bay needed our help, but right now, we needed to find out what was going on in that prison. That was the key to toppling the coup in the Bay—and anywhere else they’d set their sights on. I was sure of it.
“We need to get into that prison,” I said. “We’ve got good intel that says it’s here on the coast. Problem is, we can’t actually locate it. It’s fae spelled.”
“I might be able to intercede,” Jael said. “It’s doubtful I can destroy the spell completely—Darkwinter have powers the rest of us can only dream about—but if I can weaken it long enough for you to get inside, that might be a start.”
“It’s worth a shot,” I said. “But Jael, if Darkwinter figures out you were the one who brought down the spell…”
I let the silence speak for itself. Jael knew what Darkwinter would do to him if he got caught. He didn’t need me to spell it out.
“They are, either directly or indirectly, responsible for the death of someone I love,” he said, his catlike golden eyes suddenly blazing. “Possibly the torment of others. There is nothing I won’t do, nothing I won’t risk, to hasten their end. Are we absolutely clear on that, detective?”
I nodded once, accepting his offer. There was no point trying to talk him out of it. I knew what it meant to lay your life down for someone you loved—for vengeance, for a shot at saving them, for all of it. There would always be consequences, but not taking the risk at all? That was a shame I could never live with.
