He rolled on his side to face her.

  “I’m sensitive.” He furrowed his brow. “My magic developed, and certain things can irritate my skin.”

  “Like what?”

  “Demons,” he said with a shrug. “It’s been pretty fucking itchy with Snik around.”

  “He can hurt you?” The straw mattress crunched under her elbow.

  “All demons can hurt us. I’m fine as long as I don’t touch him with my bare hand. Really, anything demonic, hence the gloves.” He wiggled his fingers at her.

  What a strange reaction.

  Sera flopped onto her back. “Do you ever wish you were different?” She sighed. “I wish I was better. Not so afraid to be happy.”

  Sleep pulled at her.

  “Why are you afraid to be happy?”

  “I don’t think I deserve it,” she whispered.

  “You deserve it, Seraphina. You deserve to feel every ounce of joy.”

  “Maybe I’ll try harder,” she said, closing her eyes. “You’re pretty easy to be happy around.” The rolling darkness was quiet as she drifted. She almost missed his reply.

  “You are too.”

  Chapter twenty-two

  Dominick

  The days were getting longer, the air warmer, the breezes carrying sticky salt across the Citadel. Dominick took in the setting sun as he sat on the pool house steps and waited for Theo. The air, the humidity, all of it reminded Dom that summer was coming.

  He was looking forward to the solstice festivals and the after-parties. The late-night dancing, with early-morning trysts. He and Sera stumbling around the streets of Dobro singing too loudly, too drunk, but together and whole.

  Yes, summer was coming, and things would be better.

  Dominick nodded to a few of the departing oracles as the pools began to empty for the night. Just as the clouds above turned a molten orange, he smiled to himself. He had been looking forward to taking Theo to dinner all day. While thinking of the warlock, he’d caught himself smiling more times than he’d ever admit to anyone, even though their findings were becoming more and more troubling. It was annoying—in the best sort of way, he supposed.

  Normally, using Theo to pull threads wouldn’t bother him. Maybe that’s why he dove headfirst into this mission of finding discrepancies between the lives that perished versus those being reported. It relieved some of the guilt he was feeling. But no matter how many times he asked Theo to pull Nora’s thread, Theo never seemed to mind, and as long as Theo kept going along with it, Dominick thought it might be good to have a little fun too.

  Dominick stood, brushed off his robes, and peered between a group of oracles scraping their feet against the beige stone as they exited. Beyond them was the warlock he was looking for.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Dominick said, taking in Theo’s slightly crooked smile and strong chin. The oracle’s eyes were red rimmed and glassy; he’d done too much today.

  “Hey.” Theo approached him and kissed Dom on the cheek.

  Dom reared back. Heat climbed his neck to his cheeks as he looked around to see if anyone had seen, before clearing his throat.

  Theo turned rigid. “I thought after this week…”

  “I just wasn’t expecting it, is all.” He could feel the embarrassment creeping from his cheeks to his ears. He must look like an utter fool. Dom couldn’t help but itch the spot below his ear in the nervous tic that Sera constantly made fun of him for.

  Public affection was never his thing. His reputation was built on the cool mask he kept in place, which—at least he thought—made him seem mysterious and appealing. Cheek kissing didn’t really fall into that category.

  “Point taken.” Theo’s voice was stone. His bloodshot eyes furrowed before he rubbed them.

  Great.

  Dominick grabbed Theo’s wrist and pulled him away from the flow of foot traffic. This was not how he wanted the day to end. He couldn’t fuck this up, and the last thing he needed was for Theodore to tell the other lifeline readers that Dom was desperate for someone to pull the lives of his friends.

  Plus, besides the time they spent on their little mission, Dominick was actually starting to like the warlock. That in itself should have been a red flag, but alas, here he was, dragging a warlock through the streets, trying to figure out how in Eraphon he was going to fix this.

  “Dominick, let me go. I’m tired.”

  Dom pulled Theo into the gardens between the Ogdelo and Council chambers. Safe behind a cluster of trees, he finally let Theo go.

  “You’re upset.” Dom brushed his hair back and stood with his hands on his hips. Shadow help him.

  “What do you need, Dominick?”

  “I don’t need anything. I wanted to know how your day went and if you still wanted to grab dinner. Based on how bloodshot your eyeballs are right now, it doesn’t seem like it went well.” Why was he so bad at this today? Usually, he just fucked them and moved on. But keeping someone interested in him until Sera got back was going to take work. Work he wasn’t exactly qualified for.

  Theo crossed his arms. His gray robes whipped around him, and the way the sunlight moved over the planes of his face…

  “I guess I see clearly now what you really want… for me to pull threads for Nora, and a good lay after? Excuse me for thinking this was a little bit more than that.”

  Coven founders…

  “Just… stop, okay. Stop. It is. I do.” Dominick groaned in frustration, wiping his hand down his face. He lowered his voice. “Theo, I do like you. I’ve been looking forward to taking you out all day. I was just surprised, is all…” Dom ran his hand through his hair again. “I’m not good at this shit, okay?”

  Theo raised a brow at him, and Shadow help him, he’d beg Theo if he had to. For Sera, for Nora… for him.

  Dom’s groveling was interrupted by the sound of boots on stone.

  Chair Renata passed the gardens, leading four human men. Their pockmarked and wrinkled skin, along with their strange clothing, gave them away—tights with heeled shoes, thick velveteen jackets, and fluffy collars tight around the neck. Only one wore white robes, and he carried a tome.

  Dominick gasped at what was behind them.

  Massive winged beings, men bigger than any Legion warriors he’d seen, with white wings edged with gold held high above their shoulders. The gilded tips, like their armor, glinted in the sunlight. Their wings were large enough for flight, which must be a feat, since the bodies attached were thickly wrapped in muscle.

  Giant swords fastened to the warriors’ hips, some down the center of their backs, didn’t look light either. The weapons shimmered with magic—wisps of white and iridescence escaped the scabbards and sheaths. A dozen of the winged warriors followed the humans and Chair Renata while every coven member in the vicinity gawked.

  Not even the birds dared to chirp in the presence of their harsh faces.

  Chair Renata led the parade to the front steps of the Council chambers, and after a few moments, they all disappeared inside.

  “What are they?” Theo whispered.

  “I have no idea.”

  Chapter twenty-three

  Seraphina

  There was movement in their room above the tavern. Alistair was up and about, but Sera wondered whether if she kept her eyes closed and lay still enough, he’d leave her alone.

  Her head was pounding. A piece of straw jammed into her cheek through the flimsy fabric that was… wet? Drool, not piss, thank Shadow.

  “Wake up, Queen Minnow.”

  Sera wiped her face. With a groan, she rolled over. “No, thank you,” she said, pulling the itchy quilt over her face. Why did her head hurt so much?

  “We’re wasting daylight because you can’t hold your ale.”

  Ale.

  That’s what that drink was called. She wished it had been laced with magic like the coven breweries’ was. That’s what must prevent this incessant throbbing.

  Al ripped away the quilt, and the sun shining through the filthy window was brighter than she’d thought. “Just go without me. We both know you could finish this mission faster if I didn’t get in the way. So let me not get in the way.”

  Alistair’s eyebrows were almost at his hairline when she peeked through one eye. He was smiling and clean shaven. Those fucking dimples would be the death of her one day.

  “Don’t be too surprised, but I actually need your help today.” He crossed the room and rested his forearm on the doorjamb. “There’s bread on the table. Eat it. Then meet me downstairs. Soon. Don’t make me come get you.” And Alistair Alcott, captain in the Solarni Legion, gave her a look that immediately made her thighs clench. Then he shut the door.

  A few minutes later, she descended the stairs in her stained lavender dress, bread in hand, slowly working the hard crust between her teeth. She sat opposite Al, and he handed her a bowl of last night’s reheated stew.

  “Eat,” he said.

  “I don’t think my stomach will like it.”

  “You’ve lost weight.” There was a hint of concern in his tone.

  “Didn’t we talk about commenting on appearances?” She held her head in her hands.

  “Your uniform was getting loose before we got here. And when I carried you up the stairs last night, I could feel your ribs.”

  Sera didn’t know what to do with that statement. Didn’t know if she should throttle him for even mentioning her body, or if she should be impressed that he paid close enough attention and realized she was suffering. And she was suffering. The guilt was beginning to eat her alive. Nora, Feybury… all of it.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m dealing with a lot right now.”

  “I know, but you’re no good to anyone if you’re dead from starvation,” Al said.

  She glared at him, but he continued to watch her. She tried to eat a spoonful of stew, and just as she suspected, her stomach protested. Though its flipping could have been from the shame of being sloppy enough that he had to carry her. She hadn’t realized she’d been that far gone.

  But from what she remembered, he’d stumbled a bit too.

  “You were quite lively,” Alistair said. Her cheeks burned as she shoveled another spoonful into her mouth to try to hide her embarrassment. “You looked happy. Well, the happiest I’ve seen you.”

  She sneered. “Glad I could entertain you on this dull adventure.” She choked down another spoonful of slop. “From what I remember, you were quite chummy with the locals.”

  Alistair leaned forward. “You really are jealous of little Dahlia, aren’t you?”

  Sera rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

  “Maybe that’s why your eyes are that lovely shade of green… You’re just full of envy.” He winked.

  She knew she was blushing, and there was no way to stop it, but instead of ducking her head to avoid his gaze, Sera rested her chin in her hand and admired him. The lines of muscle beneath his shirt, the way his forearms were so well defined, all the way down to his leather gloves. Then she lifted her gaze right back to his, and his cocky smile widened, deepening those perfect dimples.

  Al lowered his voice and leaned closer. “I don’t know if you’ll win this game, Minnow.”

  Sera shrugged her shoulders. “We’ll see,” she said and took another bite of her stew.

  “There’s a market a few streets away. I want to try and get some information from the traveling covens.”

  Now that was something she was interested in. The Solarni coven liked to think they were the only coven on the continent, but she remembered how the traveling covens used to venture to the Citadel when she was younger. Their magic wasn’t so different, but it was more organic. They chanted under the full moons. Used poultices and brewed potions naturally, with foliage directly from the ground. They were more in tune with Eraphon.

  “The Suma or Staraji?”

  Alistair tilted his head. “You know, every time I think you can’t possibly be more adorable, you spit out a fact. Makes my heart race a little, Minnow.” Sera choked. “I don’t know which coven. Assuming Suma, since they are within a human city, but I guess we will see.”

  She needed to get out of that room, away from him and that lingering gaze that was doing far more than making her heart race.

  “If I were a snarkier witch, I would tell you that I’m surprised you’d be interested in someone with a brain. But because I’m not, how can I help you get information from the traveling covens, Alistair?” she asked.

  “I’m going to ask a few leading questions. I don’t expect them to share anything with me—I scream Legion—but once I leave, they may whisper information we could use. That’s where you come in.”

  “You want me to spy?”

  “You get it. Good job!”

  It was way too early for this…

  Wagons, humans, and dust congregated around the market. The tents were a splash of color against the dulled landscape. Everything had a thick coat of dirt here. Even Sera’s skin was gritty.

  It was easy to distinguish Alistair from the humans. Was he unable to shrink his size? Or did he just like being the tallest man in the room? He lumbered from stall to stall, catching everyone’s attention as he went.

  Al had been right; it was the Suma coven. She could tell just by the color of the tents. Greens and browns similar to the forest she had trekked through for days. Not to mention their wares were a bit outdated. They wore talismans and carried around animal feet for protection. Their way of life fascinated her.

  There was danger on the road, sure, but it couldn’t feel much different from the constant fear she’d been in since before she left the Citadel. At least they saw the continent. Sera shielded her eyes and watched Alistair enter a tent. Once he’d left, she entered.

  Rows of animal feet on rickety shelves stared back at her.

  “The rabbit is for luck.” A hunched witch pointed her twisted finger at the display. She was weathered, deep grooves cemented between her brows and around her mouth. The witch sucked in a bit of drool that had escaped her lips and limped to a stool behind a table. “Mole is for a toothache, and badger will give you fierceness.”

  “Thank you. I was just looking.”

  “You are seeking something? Something I do not have?” The old witch sniffed the air. “See, I know. I know what you need,” she said, sucking her spittle. “A bone. You need a bone.”

  Sera backed away slowly. “No, I’m fine.”

  “But you must, I insist. I can taste it on you. Ash.”

  Sera froze. She’d tasted ash in the air only a handful of times. Once before Feybury, and the other in the Menage when Nora was taken. One time involved a demon relic, the other a demon lord.

  The old witch was muttering, reaching for something behind the flap of the tent, when a tingling hum of power raked over Sera. The vibrations shifted with an unnerving familiarity.

  You run and run, her magic whispered in her mind.

  “Stop it,” she said back. She had to get out of there. Sera exited the tent and hit a wall.

  No, not a wall.

  She sucked in a breath. There before her, inches away, was him. Beneath a dark hood, a pair of red eyes gazed from below dark brows. A barely healed pink scar slashed across his right cheek. This close, she could make out the sharp lines of his face and the sensuous curve of his lips. He had a violent kind of beauty, one that promised pain wrapped in pleasure.

  “Hello again.” His voice, a deep rumble, skittered through her. She stared at him, unable to move or unwilling. Mesmerized by how his irises changed from bloodred to steely gray. “Do you always walk around with dirt on your cheeks, Subdina?”

  Speak, the voice in her head said. She was too stunned to say anything. Too terrified to move away from the obvious danger in front of her. The demon tilted his head as he examined her. Her body, now trembling, held her waiting magic within her. Waiting and watching.

  The only thought that crossed her mind was that she wanted him to speak again. His voice was a ballad, brushing her raw nerve endings in a caress. She’d read about a demon’s ability to enthrall a victim, but to feel it? This felt like a homecoming, something she had been missing her entire life.

  When his gaze left her, she could finally breathe. The top of her head reached just below his chin, so dangerously close she was, and the power that came off him washed over her in waves. Ash, but something deeper, earthen, woody.

  The demon gave her a half smile. “Your bodyguard is on his way.” He lifted her hand to his lips and said, “Until we meet again.”

  Then he was… gone.

  “What are you doing?” Alistair called to her, his hands on his hips.

  “You didn’t see him?” Sera could still feel him, the vibrations of his magic. She reached out a hand to see if this was all some insane illusion, half expecting to touch his cloak. But there was… nothing.

  “See who?”

  Sandalwood and ash enveloped her. He had to be there, somewhere. “I just— Never mind.”

  “The sun must have gotten to you.” Al linked his arm through hers.

  “We still need to get information.” She pulled her heavy curls over her shoulder, desperately wishing for a gust of air to cool her.

  “I’ve already got something. Demons were seen searching for something south of the forest,” he whispered to her.

  Searching for something, or coming from? South of Ironoak was that empty space on the map. There had to be a ruin there, and with it a possible doorway.

  Sera wasn’t sure if it was Al’s whisper in her ear, the hallucination, or the thought of being close to a doorway that led to the underworld; whatever it was, she shivered under the beating sun.

  Chapter twenty-four

  Seraphina

  Alistair had let her nap. She was grateful for it. All day, ever since she’d apparently hallucinated, she’d felt off. Too hot, then shivering. Hungry, but when food touched her lips, she wanted to vomit. Sinking further into the pillows, Sera opened her journal in her lap, still captivated by how Dominick’s script appeared on the page.