Ask me? How would I know where he was? I’d only just returned home. “I haven’t seen Alec since the last time we were all together in the ballroom.”

  Tansy cursed under her breath, then nibbled on the edge of her thumb.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “What’s happened to Alec?”

  The legs of a chair scraped loudly across the floor, breaking the moment. Devlinn had pulled out a chair for me. “Perhaps we should sit.”

  Reluctantly, I sat. He pulled out the chair to my right for Tansy before taking the one to my left. My white wolf placed herself between Tansy and me.

  She cast a wary glance at the animal. “A new pet of yours?”

  “Something like that,” I replied coolly. The brown male came to sit beside Devlinn, who pretended to ignore the wolf. “They won’t hurt you,” I reassured them. “Either of you. I swear.”

  “Good to know,” he said with a thin chuckle. Devlinn poured each of us a steaming cup of dark red herbal tea that reminded me of the shade of Alec’s eyes.

  I wrapped my hands around the warm cup. Steam rose, reminding me of the lake I was trying hard to forget. “Tell me about Alec. What happened?”

  “Last night, after you left with the Duke, Alec was beside himself,” Devlinn explained while stirring sugar into his tea. “He was going on and on about how he needed to talk to you. He said there was something important he needed to warn you about.”

  “Warn me?” I muttered. “About what?”

  Tansy let out an exasperated huff. “We don’t know! He wouldn’t tell us! We chased him down to the stables, trying to stop him. We told him this was not how things worked.” She lifted her teacup, but didn’t take a sip. “We explained that he couldn’t just steal a horse and go riding after you while you were with the Duke. But he wouldn’t listen!”

  “That’s right,” Devlinn confirmed, biting into a cranberry scone. “He was completely mad. Tore off into the night. Lena sent riders after him, of course, but none have returned.”

  I sat back in my chair. What could’ve been so urgent that Alec would ride out alone after me, in a land unfamiliar to him? He wasn’t from the Unified Territories, nor was he a warrior like Bastien. If he’d gotten hurt, or worse, killed… A cold pang of guilt twisted in my gut.

  “Maybe he wasn’t mad,” Tansy said, more quietly. My gaze shifted to hers, and I found her studying the gash above my eye. “Maybe he was right to try and warn you.” She set her cup down and leaned forward. “Claire, what happened to you?”

  For a moment, I found it difficult to breathe. I wasn’t ready to explain what happened in the graveyard. It was easier to talk about with Bastien because he was there. But now that I was sitting in front of two people who had no idea what I’d been through, in this very formal tea room, with a vase of freshly cut moonflowers sitting in the center, my voice stuck in my throat.

  This wasn’t a story for tea.

  “You wouldn’t believe me.”

  The white wolf set her muzzle in my lap, pushing her cold snout against my hand, as if to say she understood. She’d lost members of her pack, too. I set my hand on her head, gently petting her soft fur. As soon as I did, a scene flashed before my eyes. A woman and a man abed, entwined together.

  “Why wouldn’t we believe you?” Tansy reassured me. “We’re your friends. Besides, you’re sitting with the king and queen of unbelievable stories. Who has crazier stories than two witches who don’t charge their magick, and who come from different covens? If anyone is going to believe you, it’s us.”

  She was right. Of course, she was. I tried to find the words to explain what had happened. “Last night, the Duke and I were attacked.”

  Devlinn’s tea cup clattered onto the saucer.

  “Someone attacked the Duke?” Tansy rushed to ask. “In his own territory?” I nodded, and she covered her mouth.

  “It wasn’t just someone,” I said, then stopped, unable to get any more words out. I was in the tea room and the graveyard at the same time. I was shivering despite the warm tea. I could taste the coppery flavor of blood in my mouth, which made my head swim. I was living in two realities at once. Stuck in two timelines woven together, no matter how much I wanted to separate them.

  I drew in a deep breath and told myself I was brave. That I was strong. That I’d survived. But it didn’t stop the tears from falling past my lashes. I wiped them away, embarrassed for crying in front of them. But I’d nearly died. Bastien had nearly died. Had it not been for Cora, I wouldn’t be here to tell this story. She saved us both.

  “You must die.” Imogen’s words. Haunting me again.

  I’d escaped death once, only to be told it was inevitable. I reminded myself they were all lies. She was trying to manipulate me. She knew telling me these things would unsettle me. About my death. About Bastien.

  “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” Devlinn said. “It’s okay. We understand.”

  I slipped my hand back in my pocket and gave the sheep’s horn a squeeze. When I did, the worst of the sadness and fear began to trickle out of me. “No, it’s okay. I want to tell you.” I drew in a full breath and tried again. “The Duke and I attended a funeral at Kemp Manor. Or what I thought was a funeral. There was a spell. Some ritual. It went wrong and⁠—”

  “In generationem et generationem,” Devlinn said. When Tansy and I gave him curious looks, he elaborated. “That’s the spell. Well, it’s a funeral ritual. It transfers ancient magick from generation to generation. It’s sacred in old families. Not every coven has that kind of power.”

  “So you’ve heard of this before?” I asked.

  He raked a hand through his red hair, mussing it. “My coven didn’t possess that kind of magick. Probably why my family was so twisted and bitter.” He expelled a humorless laugh. “That kind of inherited magick is rare. It’s said to have come from the time when Dark Witches and demons would, you know…”

  He left the rest of his sentence hanging, his gaze dropping to the swirling tea in his cup.

  “Fuck?” Tansy offered.

  Devlinn laughed again and lifted his cup to Tansy in acknowledgment. “You always know how to take the words right out of my mouth, love.” He smiled at her in a way that warmed my heart. “Yes, when demons and Dark Witches would fuck. Long before the Blood Treaty forbade summoning demons.”

  My mouth dropped. First, Damien and Diana. Now demons and Dark Witches? Was everyone having sex? I removed my hand from my pocket and wrapped it around my teacup, trying to find a steady breath. Slowly, the dots began to connect. This darkness inside me. The simmering anger. The endless want. It wasn’t just dark magick. It was more than that.

  It was… demonic.

  But if this magick was passed down between generations, then I shouldn’t have received it, even if I was the most decent witch in that graveyard. “I think they were trying to pass it down,” I explained, “but the spell didn’t work. Something went wrong.”

  There was a charged silence.

  “It went to you, didn’t it?” Devlinn said.

  Tansy covered her hand and gasped, “Oh, Claire.”

  I kept my gaze trained on my cup, trying to stay present. “It all happened so fast. And after it did, they all came for me. Accusing me of stealing the magick. Bas—” I slipped, catching myself a second too late. “The Duke defended me.”

  I didn’t mention feeling occupied by the darkness. Nor did I mention what I’d done with the horn alone in my room. Or Imogen’s prediction. It was all too much, and I was already stripping pieces of myself bare that were still raw.

  “Well, of course, His Grace protected you. He’s a decent man. Not to mention you’re his sanguine partner,” Tansy said, completely unsurprised.

  I swallowed hard. It was more than that. Much more than that. But I couldn’t tell her that either.

  Devlinn regarded the wolf at his side, then said, “You’re more than just his sanguine partner now. You’re a powerful Dark Witch. One with the power to lead an entire coven.”

  “I couldn’t lead a coven,” I said dismissively. “I don’t know the first thing about dark magick.”

  I saw the tears swimming in his eyes. Saw the bone-deep empathy. Neither Devlinn nor Tansy charged their magick anymore. They chose to live a magickless life. But he understood better than I did what it meant to have dark magick.

  “Claire,” he said, “if the stories are true, you are more than just a Dark Witch, but a living relic. A source of demonic power.”

  I held his gaze, a crease forming between my eyes. It felt like trying to push a puzzle piece into a space that didn’t fit. How could I be a source of demonic power when it wouldn’t even work for me?

  “I need your help understanding what that means, because these so-called ancient powers aren’t working for me.”

  He scrunched his nose. “What do you mean?”

  A swell of terror rose up, threatening to drag me back to that graveyard, but I clutched the horn even harder, leaning on it for strength. If I wanted answers, real answers from people I trusted, unlike Imogen, then I had to be honest. “Right after the magick came to me, I had the power to call flames from the dirt. But then,” my voice wavered, “they just stopped.”

  Thoughts of my experiment with the horn and the candle swam through my head. “I can’t seem to make the magick last for longer than a few moments. Even with a relic.”

  I reached into my pocket and removed the sheep’s horn and set it on the table. When I did, a thrum of power shook the cups on their saucers.

  Chapter 9

  Entre Deux Mondes

  CLAIRE

  Iimmediately regretted putting the relic on the table. It didn’t belong beside scones and bone china. The curves, the point, the ridges—they belonged with me. In my hand. My fingers twitched in my lap, aching to snatch it back, but something inside warned me it was too late. What was done was done; the moment had already shifted.

  Devlinn moved aside a sugar bowl to take a closer look. “Where did you get this?”

  I swallowed hard, strangling the folds of my dress to keep my hands still. “It was given to me. By one of the Kemps.”

  Had it not been for her… Had it not been for the kindness and bravery of one person… I straightened my back, unable to take my eyes off the horn. “She asked me to charge my magick and preserve her grandmother’s powers.”

  Devlinn reached out to touch it. I shouted, “Don’t!”

  The word had leapt from my throat, not of my own volition.

  Beads of sweat collected along Devlinn’s brow, glistening in the spaces between his freckles. I glanced at Tansy, who had paused with her teacup halfway to her mouth, her fingers trembling just enough to make the porcelain rattle against the saucer.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, trying to regain a measure of composure. “I just don’t think you should touch it. That’s all.”

  He gave me a weak smile. “Of course.”

  I took a sip of my own tea, which had gone cold. “Do you have any theories as to why I can’t access my magick?”

  Tansy and Devlinn exchanged a glance across the table. I waited, forcing patience even as my nerves threatened to crawl out of my skin. The clock on the wall ticked incessantly, each second scraping at my composure. After visiting Imogen, I needed real answers. Finally, Devlinn tapped his fingers on the table, eyes brightening with sudden realization. “Hold on, you’re not a Kemp, are you?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  “If you aren’t a Kemp, then the magick won’t recognize your blood.”

  “Dark magick is so much cooler than moon magick,” Tansy said under her breath.

  Devlinn turned his chair toward me, startling the brown wolf. “Easy, boy,” he said, patting his head, before continuing. “This kind of magick is passed down from generation to generation, which makes it tied to a bloodline. Only someone from that bloodline, in this case, a Kemp, has the power to become a living relic. Right now, the magick is just sitting inside you with nowhere to go.”

  Finally, someone had words to explain what was happening to me. This insistence inside of me was equal parts rage and desire.

  “Yes!” I exclaimed. “That’s exactly what it’s like.” A rush of relief settled over me. Now that I’d identified the problem, there was only one thing left to do. “How do I fix it?”

  Devlinn bit his lip and tapped his fingers on the table again. The gesture made my heart pound. The answer was close. So close I could feel it. “Oh! I’ve got it! You could open a channel between you and the demon from whom the power originated and ask it to reestablish the line of succession.”

  Tansy sucked in a breath. “You can’t be serious. Claire can’t summon a demon! It’s not allowed in the Unified Territories. Not to mention it’s dangerous.”

  It wasn’t the advice I was expecting, if I was expecting anything. What if the demon said no? Would I be stuck like this? Holding power that I could hardly use? Or worse? My hand rose to my throat, touching the lace collar around my neck. Would the demon take the magick away and leave me empty? Now that I had magick, I couldn’t go back to being useless again. I wouldn’t.

  A sense of calm and surety washed over me. Even from where it sat on the table, it was feeding me invisible waves of magick. The power calmed me and focused my thoughts at the same time. No one was going to take anything from me.

  If I wanted my powers, all I had to do was ask for them. It would be easy.

  “Claire?”

  I inclined my head. A hazy smile on my lips. “Yes?”

  Devlinn reached for my hand, slowly, giving me time to pull away if I wanted to. His fingers curled around mine, his touch gentle as he took my hand between his. A warmth spread from where he was touching me. It collected in my chest and cradled my heart. I drew in a full breath, then another, feeling more like myself.

  “There’s more to being a living relic than just making flames come from the ground. Are you sure you want these powers?”

  Tansy set her hand on my shoulder, and another warm pulse came. “There’s a reason why we left ours behind. The gods give us these powers, but they don’t seem to care what happens to us once we have them.” Tears shone in her eyes. “Everyone uses magick to hurt each other. I don’t want that life for you.”

  My friends were supporting me, and yet scared for me at the same time. It caused an ache to form in my throat. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I just wanted to live a good life with the man I loved. But the only way to make that happen was to fight. To live.

  I couldn’t tell them the truth. Not about Mama’s curse. But I could give them another. “I want to use magick to help myself. T-to free myself.”

  A pinch. A squeeze around my throat. Warning enough that I was going too far.

  “From His Grace?” Tansy asked.

  I shook my head, more tears collecting in my eyes. “No. Not from His Grace.”

  Tansy and Devlinn wrapped me in a hug, their arms twining around me until I was cocooned in their love. It was a magick of its own, having friends like them. The moment stretched on and on, as they held me and I held them. Tears slid down my cheeks. I was sad, so deeply sad. And angry. And desperate to be the woman, a witch, who could never be hurt again. I didn’t push the feelings away. I let them stay, knowing I was safe with them. At last, they released me and returned to their chairs.

  Tansy pushed her teacup aside and leaned in. “We should leave.”

  “The tea room?” I asked, confused. Blotting my tears with a cloth napkin.

  She shook her head. “No. I mean, leave the Unified Territories.”

  I was too stunned to speak. Tansy gestured to Devlinn. “Tell her.”

  “There are isles south of here where it’s warm all the time, and no one practices magick. We’ve heard whispers that they all worship logic.”

  It felt like cold water had just been poured over my head. Imogen had used the word 'logic' when she spoke about Rosa. Damien and Diana’s daughter. One of the two lost goddesses.

  Tansy beamed at me in a way I’d never seen before, almost like the sun was shining on her, even inside this tea room. She brushed her long white braids behind her shoulders. “There’s an island where people are committed to doing things that make sense. No witches. No demons. No war. Just peace and the ocean and logic.”

  Logic and the ocean. Rosa and Maris.

  “And the world’s best rum,” Devlinn added with a devilish grin. “They use it in fruity drinks that you sip out of a coconut. Because what makes more sense than that?”

  I shook my head, dismissing this, because I needed to ensure I was hearing them correctly. “You said the people worship logic? And they live on an island in the middle of the sea?”

  Tansy giggled, looking younger and happier than I’d seen before. “Yes. That’s what I said. Why do you look so confused?” She gently ran her cool fingers along my brow, studying the cut there. I winced. “Claire, how hard did you hit your head? We should take you to the healer before we pack our trunks.”

  Imogen’s croaking laugh echoed in my ears. As if I could hear her mocking me through the layers of rock. As if to say I wasn’t lying about any of it. Not the story. Not my death. Not Bastien’s inquiry about how to break our matebond. I began trembling all over in a way that not even the horn’s power could calm.

  “We should leave,” she continued. “Together. You, me, Devlinn, and Alec if he shows back up. We could be each other’s family.”

  I was speechless. They wanted to run away? With me? They wanted to be my family? No one besides Bastien had ever offered me that kind of unconditional love. No strings attached. No need to prove myself. Just acceptance.

  Her attention narrowed on the cut on my brow, and she grimaced. “This is what magick does,” she said. “It consumes everything in your life. Everything. And His Grace, he was made from magick. Reborn in it. He cannot escape it. But we can.”

  Leave? Bastien? The words didn’t even make sense. “No. I can’t leave. I’m His Grace’s sanguine partner. I am under contract.”