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Chapter 6

Carrow

My mind spun with all that I'd learned as I headed through the winding passages of Guild City. Old cast-iron streetlamps flickered to life, throwing a golden glow on the shop windows that jostled with magic and life.

Bars were filling up—happy hour was a thing, even in the magical world—and cheerful supernaturals passed me in groups as they headed toward their usual haunts.

This was all still new to me. Normally, I'd spend time exploring as I walked, peering in shop windows and daydreaming about my life in Guild City, but my thoughts were on Mac and Seraphia.

I reached Eve's place in record time, panting, my skin lightly dampened with sweat. I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The main shop was empty, but Eve's voice echoed from the back room. "Who is it?"

"Carrow."

"Come on back."

I hurried through the shop, passing shelves of tiny vials and jars of potion. Eve relegated her dangerous potions to the back room, where she did a lot of her work.

It was chaos.

Every surface was covered with the tools of her trade: small cauldrons, knives, a mortar and pestle, along with jars and bowls of ingredients. The fae's hair was bright pink. A few days ago, it had been purple and white. The raven that followed her everywhere sat high on a shelf, observing the situation below.

Mac and Seraphia stood nearby. They looked better than when I'd last seen them. Their color was back, and their eyes were brighter.

"How are you feeling?" I hurried toward them, carefully inspecting their faces for any signs of distress.

"Fine now." Mac grinned to reassure me, and Seraphia mimicked her smile.

Worry and guilt streaked through me. Why were they cursed if I wasn't?

"I don't buy it." I turned to Eve. "How are they?"

"Fine for the moment." Concern flickered in her eyes. "I got a few clues from the cursed book, enough to make a potion to hold off the effects, but I wasn't able to cure them."

"Not yet," Mac said. "You'll figure it out."

"Grey is looking for another copy," I told them. "Maybe if we figure out what history was erased, we'll learn more about the curse."

Eve's brows rose. "Grey, is it?"

I shrugged. I hadn't yet confessed that I'd started calling him by his first name, but Eve didn't stick on the question.

"But that's good," she said. "If we can find out who cast the curse, then it'll be easier to cure. Different supernaturals have different abilities, and it will narrow down our search if we know what the culprit was capable of."

"We're going to be fine," Mac said. "You're the best there is."

"But I haven't found an antidote yet," Eve said. "Hell, we don't even know what's going to happen to you."

"But you whipped up something to hold off the effects, so we're good." Mac squeezed her hand. "We've got this, don't worry."

I looked between Mac and Eve, worry streaking through me. Mac was putting on a brave face, but this was bad.

Seraphia met my gaze. "How did it go with the Devil? What did you learn besides the fact that he'll seek another copy of A Most Elucidating History of Guild City?"

I explained about his memory and our hopes to unlock it.

"I like that plan," Mac said.

"He said he'll meet you tomorrow morning?" Seraphia asked.

"Yes. His friend will hopefully have a copy of the book by then."

"Good," Eve said, "because these two need to rest. I don't want them getting too tired or weak. It could give the curse a better foothold on them."

I nodded. "Let's head up to my place. We'll get some food, rest, and come up with a game plan. There's probably something we're missing."

Mac grinned. "Like a girls' night!"

"A girls' night with a goal," I said. "And an early bedtime."

"Of course. But I like this plan." She looked at Seraphia. "Will you come?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you, silly. We need to go over all the facts again. But more importantly, you're cool, and you should come hang out with us."

Seraphia smiled. "Okay."

"Let's do my flat," I suggested.

"I'm going to leave everything like it is and lock up," Eve said. "I can clean this mess tomorrow."

"Good plan," I said, and shepherded the others toward the front.

It took her less than half a minute to finish her stuff and grab her keys. I got the history book, and we headed out of her shop, Eve and Seraphia in the lead.

I hung back with Mac. "Are you really okay?"

"Yeah." She nudged me with her shoulder. "Don't worry so much."

"And Seraphia?"

"She's fine, too."

"She seems a bit lonely." I thought back to her eyes. "Not sure why. Just something about her."

"She keeps to herself, mostly. In our world, you tend not to poke when someone does that. You never know what they're hiding."

"But you trust her?"

"Yeah. I think she's got a bad past, but I trust her. And no one should be lonely."

"You like to collect strays."

"Strays?"

"Yeah." I grinned and pointed to myself. "Like me. Now Seraphia."

Mac shrugged. "What can I say? There aren't really any stray cats in town, and you're the next best thing."

I laughed, and the four of us headed up to my place, taking the stairs two at a time.

When we passed Mac's door, she paused. "Do you have wine?"

I scoffed. "Do I have wine? Only the finest adult juice boxes in all the land."

Mac laughed. "Those little single-serving boxes?"

"The very same. If you're lucky, I'll give you a straw."

She grimaced. "Pass. But I will get some crisps."

"If Cordelia hasn't eaten them all."

"Fingers crossed." She darted into her place.

"Thanks."

Eve and Seraphia reached my door first. "Let yourself in," I said, gesturing. "It's unlocked."

"You should lock it," Seraphia said. "This place isn't as safe as it seems."

I frowned at her. She wasn't wrong, but the way she said it…

She shifted and looked away, then followed Eve into the flat.

Yeah, Seraphia had a tricky past, all right. But it was none of my business unless she wanted to share, so I put it aside.

"Make yourself at home." I gestured to the couches. "How do you feel about kebabs?"

"Fantastic," Eve said.

Seraphia nodded. "Love them."

I went to the window and set the history book on the little table. I grabbed the paper menu from the restaurant below us, then picked up a pen and pad of paper. I handed the goods off to Eve and Seraphia. "Jot down what you want."

I already knew my order by heart…and Cordelia's. I no sooner placed an order with the restaurant than Cordelia appeared, no matter where she was in the city. I swore she could hear the scratching of the pen.

Mac appeared at the door. "Ooh, good idea," she said, spotting the menu and pad of paper. "Get me a Donner Kebab, please."

"No problem."

Orders completed, I placed the paper in the bucket by the window and lowered it by the attached rope. Leaning out, I watched Berat, the restaurant owner, grab the bucket.

"Mission complete," I said, pulling my head from the window.

"That's a handy system," Seraphia said.

I grinned. "All Mac's idea. She came up with it."

Mac tore open the bag of crisps. "I'm a genius, what can I say?"

"There are bowls in the kitchen," I said. "Freshly washed, even."

Mac disappeared into the kitchen as Cordelia appeared on the windowsill, her little nose twitching. Kebabs?

"Yes, Cordelia."

Excellent. She trundled over to the couch and climbed up to sit between Eve and Seraphia. They must have met earlier, when Cordelia had delivered the book to Eve, because Seraphia took it in stride.

"I can't find them," Mac called.

I joined her in the kitchen and fished the bowls out of the tiny cupboard, pointing with my elbow at the little fridge. "There's some wine in there, if you want to grab it."

"Do I? It would be pure barbarism to have a girls' night without wine, even one that's aimed at solving an ancient deadly mystery and will involve—unfortunately—no drunken antics."

I grinned and filled the bowls with crisps, then took them out to the living room and handed them around. Mac joined me and passed out the mini boxes of wine, pouring Cordelia a smaller serving in a cup. Cordelia glared at her.

Mac couldn't understand Cordelia when she talked, but the look was easy to read.

"Hey, don't blame me." Mac raised her hands. "You have the lowest body weight, and I'm just doing the maths. We don't need an unconscious raccoon on our hands."

Cordelia scoffed and drank her wine.

I sipped my wine and contemplated everything we'd learned. Everything I'd learned since my arrival. "You know what's weird?"

"What?" Mac asked.

"There are no misfits in Guild City. Everyone ascribes to a guild, or they get booted. No weirdos allowed."

She shrugged. "Those are the rules."

"Yeah, but there are misfits in the rest of the world. It's strange that there are none here. Seems like it should be impossible."

Mac frowned. "That's a good point."

"It's always been the way of things," Eve said. "It helps hide us and protect us if everyone has to be in a guild and follow the rules."

"But surely a few weirdos wouldn't throw off the whole magical system. I mean, they'd still have to control their signatures, right?" I asked.

"Right." Seraphia pulled her knees up to her chest. "You know, Carrow, you're right. It is very odd. We try to shove everyone into a box and stick them in a guild, but what if they don't really fit?"

"They get kicked out of town." Mac's words were a growl. "It's bloody unfair."

"Who made these rules, anyway?" I asked.

"That guy, Councilor Rasla, from the statue you saw earlier today," Seraphia said.

"The one with bird shit all over his head?" I asked.

Mac grinned. "The very same."

"So he's the one who laid the foundation of exclusion in Guild City."

"Yes." Eve sipped her wine. "Though I've never thought much of it before now. When you grow up with something, you tend to accept it and not to look too closely at it. It's just part of life."

I didn't like it. Not only because I wasn't included in a guild, but because it seemed wrong. As wrong as the cursed magic that hovered around the city wall. "Why do you think the darkness in the wall called to me?"

Mac's gaze flicked to mine. "Now, don't go thinking you're secretly evil or anything. Because you're not."

That was exactly what I'd been worried about. "How could you tell?"

"You're an open book, and none of the pages have been torn out."

"But I wasn't cursed."

"I have no idea why that was," Eve said. "But we'll figure it out."

"Maybe it's the magic from Orion's Heart that you absorbed," Mac said.

"Or maybe you're just a total badass," Eve added.

"Maybe." Doubtful.

A bell rang from below, catching my attention. Cordelia leapt off the couch and scampered toward the rope. She hauled on it, pulling hard to raise our dinner up the wall. I joined her and tugged the bucket up the last meter.

My mouth watered at the fragrant smell of grilled meet and spices as I lifted the bucket through the window. I handed Cordelia her little glass takeaway container, then passed around the rest of the food.

We chatted as we ate, discussing everything that we knew about the mystery. It shouldn't have been fun, but it was. At least a little. There was still the fear that hung over us, but being with Mac, Eve, and Seraphia was fun even when it was scary and tense.

Finally, we'd exhausted ourselves and every avenue of discussion. Mac yawned, and Seraphia followed suit, her mouth wide.

"You two need some rest," Eve said. "The curse is draining you."

Mac looked at Seraphia. "I've got a spare bed at my place. You can bunk there, if you want."

"Thanks. I'm exhausted." She yawned again.

I stood, my gaze going to the book that we'd brought up from Eve's shop. "Do you mind if I look at that again tonight?"

Eve frowned. "Is it safe?"

"The wall cursed them, not the book." I shrugged, trying to appear casual. "I think it will be fine. If there's a problem, Cordelia will get you."

Cordelia glared. I need my beauty sleep.

"You're beautiful enough, so do me a favor, okay?"

She grumbled but nodded.

"It's all yours," Seraphia said.

"Thanks." I grabbed the book and waved goodnight to them as they piled out the door.

Cordelia trundled after me to the bedroom. She slept in a ratty old armchair that Mac and I had unearthed in a secondhand shop. Mac had disapproved of our find, but I loved the worn blue velvet, and so did Cordelia.

Be quick. Cordelia climbed onto her chair. I'll be asleep in no time.

"Yeah, yeah." I flung myself onto the bed, barely managing to strip out of my jeans and shoes.

The night sounds of Guild City drifted through my window as I leaned back against the headboard and flipped through the pages. The golden glow of the lamp illuminated the tiny, ancient print.

What are you looking for?

"I'm not sure." I kept flipping. "I think I've got all the clues I can out of it—using my magic, at least. But I haven't read it. It's a history of Guild City."

That means it's a history of the Devil.

"Maybe." But that's exactly what I'd been thinking. I could probably learn about him through this book. Given what was growing between us, I wasn't going to look a gift book in the mouth. Even if it was cursed.

Carefully, I searched for the Devil's name. He was rarely mentioned, but when he was, he was always doing something important.

Like establishing the city, for one. Apparently, he'd been on the original council hundreds of years ago and had helped draft the city designs, basing them on his hometown of Sighi?oara in Romania.

Did he miss it?

As the pages turned and the years passed, the Devil appeared more infrequently, as if he'd stepped out of the limelight and become the loner I knew him to be. For someone with so much power and influence—and so many employees—he spent most of his time alone, as far as I could tell.

Not a single friend, unless you counted Miranda. And you couldn't. She was a great right hand, but she wasn't his pal.

The mystery of the Devil—of Grey—ran through my mind as my eyelids grew heavy, and the book slipped from my grasp.

When the dream came, I didn't even realize it was a dream. The line between wakefulness and sleep was so fine that it didn't exist.

Instead, I was immediately in the future, wrapped around Grey as he bent over me, his fangs brushing against my skin. A shiver raced through me, fear and desire in equal parts.

I moaned, tilting my head, wanting more of him. He groaned low in his throat. The noise made the heat inside me burn ever brighter. When his fangs pierced my skin, pleasure flared.

I clutched him to me, clinging. Waves of pleasure crashed over me as he drew on my neck. Every pull felt better than the last, until my head began to spin. My heart stuttered, and my skin grew cold.

Dimly, I realized that this was bad. This wasn't normal.

"Grey." I tried to speak, but the word was barely a whisper. He didn't stop. Panic flared.

I tried to struggle, but it was too late. He'd taken too much. There wasn't enough blood left to deliver oxygen to my muscles, and I was fading away. Dying.

My last thought was one that had haunted me since I'd heard it.

Cursed Mates.

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