Chapter 23

Josie and I set out for home, my hip twinging with each step, while Harrow elected to stay with his uncle and wait for the 514's coroner to arrive. He wanted to be alone, and I honored his decision. All the while I wondered if—like when Kierce had taken me at my word and left the hotel—Harrow wished I had stayed. But after the bomb dropped about Lyle being the one who called the sentinels on me, not Harrow, and Harrow asking for his mother's ring—her ring—I was glad for the distance.

Eventually, I would have to tell my siblings. Maybe not about the ring but definitely about Lyle. Not yet, though. I needed time to sort my own feelings out before adding theirs into the mix with my regrets.

Carter hung back too, but she had no choice in the matter. She would remain cuffed to the tree until her emergency contact collected her. I hoped they would respect the dietary—or was it more behavioral?—boundaries she had set for herself.

Until she detoxed, Carter would come for me until she killed me or I killed her. Neither option appealed. I liked her. Cheddar puffs residue and all. I hoped that, if we met again, it wouldn't end in blood.

Just a few hours ago, if Josie and I had found ourselves in this predicament, we would have called Armie.

But Armie was gone. Had never really existed. I had no idea how to help Josie cope with that loss.

"Is your birdfriend—I mean, boyfriend—going to be okay?"

Thoughts on Harrow, I had to replay her words to make sense of the question.

"Cute." I hauled out my phone, not expecting much. "I'm going to try Swyft again."

This time, the call went through without a hitch, and we landed ourselves a ride home.

"Are you sure that was Armie? My Armie? Hell, our Armie? He was your friend too."

"Kierce tore away his…" I flicked my hand. "Glamour?" I would never forget it. "It was Armie."

"How did we not see it?" Her anger was slowly draining away, turning into pain. "He was always around. Helping out. Hanging out. He slept over." She ran her nails up her arms like she wanted to scratch off her skin. "A lot."

"I don't know." I couldn't imagine how she felt after his betrayal. "I don't know anything anymore." A sniffle drew my gaze to hers. "You okay?"

Dumb question. Of course she wasn't. Who would be in her shoes?

"Thirteen months, Mary." A tear rolled down her cheek. "More than a year."

Yet another facet of Ankou's story that didn't fit the rest. There was a catalyst. There must have been. I couldn't see him wasting a year infiltrating our lives just to throw all that hard work out the window for Lyle's prayer. Had Kierce been the spark? No. That didn't fit. His god sent him to investigate the dybbuk.

There must be more to it than what Ankou admitted before I ended him.

Too bad Kierce wasn't here for me to interrogate.

"I'm sorry, Mary." I padded over to her, wrapping my arms around her. "I'm so sorry."

"How can I ever trust anyone again? I ragged you about Kierce being a psycho killer while I was…" A sob broke free, and she tucked her face into my neck. "I wasn't in love with him, but I did love him. He was a good friend. To all of us."

"You'll get there again." I made it a promise. "You just need time to heal from this."

"Yeah." She sniffled. "Maybe." She looped her arm through mine. "Here I am hogging all the sympathy when you just found out Lyle would rather burn in Hell than see you with Harrow." She wiped her cheek dry. "And the bird thing. With Kierce." She touched the end of her nose, tracing a beak in the air. "That had to be a shock."

"That's one word for it." I tipped my head back, taking comfort in Badb's mournful presence as she flew over us. "It explained a few things."

"Like why his tongue is forked and can flick out and back into his mouth twelve times per second?"

"What?" I spluttered a choked laugh. "You made that up, Mary."

"Mary, I kid you not." She placed a hand over her heart. "But it's a hummingbird thing, not a crow thing."

"I would ask how—and dear God why—you know that, but you must have learned it while planning your pollinator garden." I leaned my weight on her arm, the pain about to squeeze tears out of me that I was sure had nothing to do with Harrow's guilt or Kierce's absence. "The last week has proven I'm better off in my own bed, in my own apartment, without a guy complicating things."

"You'll see Harrow again," she pointed out. "Kierce will come back too, for his bird."

"Maybe." I wasn't sure I could face either of them just yet. "Maybe not."

Headlights glinted ahead, and we stepped onto the road, eager for the driver to whisk us home.

"Do you think Carter will be okay?" Her grip tightened on me. "Do you think you'll be safe around her?"

"I won't be around her." I checked the driver's photo ID, his license plate number, and the make and model of his vehicle, because that was the kind of night I was having. "Case closed."

"You think these 514 people are just going to forget you exist now that you've solved a case?"

"Their plans aren't my problem." I ignored the doubt writ large across her face. "I mean it."

"I know you do." She glanced back once more. "I just hope they get the memo."

That made two of us.