Chapter 30

Chapter30

I stared blankly out the window of the Uber on the ride home, wondering how I’d missed so much: the meaning of the tattoo, Maud’s motives. Never had so much not been as it appeared. I prided myself on my ability to illuminate, not only physical weakness, but clarity in a situation, yet I’d had some pretty freaking huge blinders on when it came to things close to me.

I rubbed a hand over my chin. Did I have blinders on about anything else? Not bad things necessarily. Sachie believed that love was easy with the right person. She’d meant romantic love, but what about love for your best friend? Was my fear of losing her or scaring her off if I told her about Cherry blinding me to the possibility that she’d be okay with it?

It was worth thinking about.

My only other consolation was that I wasn’t the only one who’d missed some crucial details. Delacroix hadn’t seen Maud, his daughter, hiding in plain sight all this time and waiting to take him down.

He didn’t see us either, Cherry whispered. I can’t wait to jump out and say boo.

Yeah, that would be fun, but this was not about us. Maud hadn’t bothered to learn that using the ring could have killed her. She’d have been better off chucking a rock at him.

Or a heavy crystal. My chuckle died, my thoughts snapping to Sire’s Spark.

Rukhsana and Jordy assumed I had it. Yes, I’d want a dangerous artifact removed from play, and I’d also gift wrap the other artifacts for the Trad cops to deal with.

They’d thankfully missed any deeper motivation in their conclusion.

But I could take their same hypothesis of a tireless defender of justice and pair it to a secret agenda. One also involving half shedim and a Maccabee with enough power and influence to make the things she wanted happen without question.

My mother was a complicated woman.

Once the artifacts were stolen, these different criminal factions were caught up in accusations and assaults, and the Trad cops were running around chasing their tails, she saw an opportunity and took it.

Michael knew the fences in town. She could easily have tracked this one down and stolen the artifact from him. I tapped a finger against my lip. She was a Yellow Flame, but she couldn’t wipe people’s memories. That didn’t matter though. We had a Maccabee on staff who could. One who was fiercely devoted to my mother. Michael could have had that woman retrieve Sire’s Spark, made sure the other artifacts got to the Trads, handled any witnesses, and not gotten her own hands dirty.

I changed my end destination to Mom’s condo, intending to go in guns blazing. I let myself in, flipping on lights and calling her name, but the place was silent. I pulled out my phone to call her, but when I hit the home button to turn the screen on, my open text chain with her lit up.

I stared at the heart emoji she’d sent after my alleged death. Was it a sign of guilt, not connection? After all, she was more of a Maccabee than any of us. I’d never mistake her conquering her situation, i.e. having a half-demon child she’d trained to keep her real nature secret, for compliance—an acquiescence or resignation in having an infernal as a daughter.

Shoving the phone in my back pocket, I headed into her office and moved the painting of an Icelandic sky away from the safe. Michael kept her will in it, and she’d trusted me with the code years ago.

I almost laughed at myself as I punched the numbers in. Suppose she did steal Sire’s Spark, she wouldn’t hide it here. It was too obvious.

You mean hiding in plain sight?Cherry pointed out.

The safe door swung open.

I didn’t immediately look inside, because once I did, there was no going back. I sat with the hope that I was wrong, then I took a deep breath and pulled the door wider.

My heart sank.

Cautiously, I reached for Sire’s Spark, stopping short of making contact. I didn’t feel any magic, but that didn’t mean anything in terms of whether it had power or not. However, it was safer this way, because that meant any magic in it had to be activated. The items that emitted a vibration were the ones you had to beware of. They could mess you up with the brush of a fingertip.

In spite of my better judgment, I hefted the octagonal crystal, the rough artifact filling my palm. I closed my hand around it and sliced it through the air, its soft pink color catching the light.

I must have come up with a dozen explanations for why my mother had done this, but only one made sense.

My mother was tangled up in this mess involving the dead half shedim, and their missing blood. Had she shut me down from investigating further because she was trying to protect me? Stop me from jeopardizing her own search? Or keep me from learning how deep her disgust for infernals went?

I glanced at a photo of Mom and me at my graduation ceremony from Maccababy to level one operative. She had tried to talk me out of joining the organization a million times, but that photo caught me tapping my brand-new Maccabee ring to hers, like we were superheroes about to unleash our joint powers. She’d rolled her eyes but she’d laughed, and that’s when the shutter clicked.

It was one of my favorite memories of the two of us.

Part of me longed to walk away before I learned something that irrevocably tainted that memory, but it was already too late. I shot the photo one last rueful glance, then placed Sire’s Spark back in the safe, careful to leave it like I’d found it.

I shut the safe door with a quiet click. It seemed my mother and I were both keeping secrets.

But as I’d said earlier, I was an excellent fucking detective.

* * *

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Brace yourself because things are about to heat up!

Evil has a scent: lemon.

It was supposed to be a routine drug bust. Arrest some magic jerks and move on, but then a fellow operative is murdered, and Aviva is thrust into a perilous black ops mission to disprove corruption charges.

Meanwhile, her half-sister is being blackmailed for being an infernal, and as Avi struggles to protect her, she’s set on a collision course with the one person she hoped to never meet.

And just when she thought things couldn’t get any crazier, her ex drops a bomb about second chances.

Aviva must navigate a minefield of love, betrayal, and powerful Maccabees gunning for her, to expose her enemies—and keep her secrets hidden. But hey, running for your life is good cardio, right?

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