Chapter 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 detail 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 sense. 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 lean 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?

The obvious solution was to ignore her and us, but Carrow was hard to forget. It had been impossible not to think of her, and I was accustomed to avoiding things.

Things that I wanted.

I'd never wanted a person before—not like this—and it took everything I had to fight the pull between us. No matter how much I wanted her, the Cursed part of our situation hung over our heads.

"Where, exactly, are we going?" I asked, trying to drag my attention from her.

"Almost there."

She led me down a narrow alley between buildings. The rough stone snagged the fabric of my suit, and I shifted so that I could move silently through the space.

We arrived in a quiet square at the edge of town. It was familiar—every place in Guild City was familiar—but I hadn't been there in decades. Centuries, possibly.

"What's happening here?" I frowned at the wall, feeling the faintest pulse of dark magic. I stepped toward it, and Carrow grabbed my arm. Awareness raced through me at her touch, and I suppressed the faintest shudder.

"Don't go near it," she warned. "There's dark magic around the wall. It cursed Mac and Seraphia."

"Seraphia? The librarian?"

"Yes. You know her?"

"Not well. But I quite like the library." I hadn't read much in decades, but the library was quiet and imbued with an energy that soothed me when the memories became too dark. It was a meditative place for me.

I turned to look at her and stilled. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

She snapped them shut. "Are they glowing?"

"Yes." She stepped away from the wall and opened them again. The bright green faded to its normal hue. "I don't know why they do that. Maybe something to do with Orion's Heart?"

"The magic you absorbed."

"Exactly. But let's deal with this right now."

"Which is what, pray tell?"

"It has to do with this history book." She pulled it out of her bag once more, opening it to the missing pages. "It's imbued with an evil magic that matches the curse on this wall. And the pages that have been torn out talk about the history of Guild City…or so we assume. We don't know what they said."

Understanding dawned. "And I'm the only one old enough to know what would have happened back then. I'm your first-hand account."

"Exactly." Worry creased her brow. "Which makes you my only hope for Mac and Seraphia. They've been cursed by this, but I have no idea how or by what."

"You weren't cursed?" Worry tugged.

She shook her head, her lips pinched. "No. And I don't know why."

"Good."

She nodded, her pleading gaze meeting mine. "Tell me why this place is cursed. How do I fix Mac and Seraphia?"

I turned to the wall, searching my memory. It came up blank, which wasn't surprising, given the length of my life and all the things I'd forgot over the years, but I hated that I couldn't immediately fix her problem. "I genuinely don't know."

"You don't remember any of the important things that happened here? Hangings or festivals or crimes?"

"You think a past event might have stained this place?"

"Maybe." She shrugged. "I"m reaching, here. I want to know how this wall could curse Mac and Seraphia, and I know the past has something to do with it."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember anything interesting about this place." In normal life, I wasn't above lying about what I knew. But with Carrow, I was compelled to speak the truth.

And regretfully, I had.

"What?" Surprise flickered in her voice. "How can you not remember?"

"Do you remember everything from your entire life?"

"Well…no. But this is important."

"Many important things have happened in the last five hundred years." I winced. "Closer to six hundred, now."

Resignation flickered on her face, and maybe something like concern.

For me?

No. Of course not.

People thought immortality was a gift. And maybe it would be, if everyone lived forever, but they didn't.

Therefore, it was a lonely proposition.

"What do you know about that man?" She pointed to the statue.

"Councilor Rasla was a bastard, but I don't remember him well." I frowned, trying to recall details about him. Rasla had been pivotal in establishing the rule of law in Guild City. Why were my memories of him vague?

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, fighting a headache.

A headache?

Since when did I get headaches?

"Are you all right?" Carrow asked.

"Yes. Fine." I met her gaze. "You want to know what I know about this place?"

"Yes." Frustration vibrated from her.

"Well, then. We'll reach into my memory."