Chapter 16

16

I closed the book on Celtic ancients when the quad entered with Rooke and Spyne. Wild was on sentry duty again.

“Want company?” Huxley said, pulling Spyne down onto the couch with him.

“If I said no?”

Huxley looked at the title of my book. “I read that when I was four.”

I shook my head. “How is everyone?”

At dinner, I’d simply given the coven an update on how the meetings with the other supernaturals went. I’d encouraged them to ask questions about Vissimo and Luthers, and had welcomed the opportunity to speak openly on a subject where I had no secrets.

Wild would address them tomorrow, and I’d decided that no one could force their way into the painful memories of my past.

My family’s deaths were mine to share as I wished.

Sven sank into an armchair and pulled Rooke down onto his lap. “Swimmingly.”

Dark circles smudged the areas under his eyes. The guy had done what I’d asked him not to—exhausted himself. “Thank you, Sven.”

He forced a smile. “You got it.”

Spyne watched the exchange, then said, “Huxley was saying that we may gain access to the archives of the other supernaturals as part of an alliance.”

“The Luthers’ knowledge will be trickier to get our hands on,” I answered. “But I have high hopes for what the Vissimo may possess. The prince knew as much as us about demons, and ample amounts on us—though our race is so insular.”

Spyne tucked his hair behind his ear. “He seemed really old.”

“I think he is. Which means his father is older again.” And the king hated demons and magus. Yikes.

The grimoire paused. “There’s something you should know, High Esteemed. The coven is talking.”

Spyne was about to warn me about the rumors too? I felt a surge of warmth for the magus. He wasn’t sure what to make of me—like others, he sensed more was afoot. He’d decided to withhold judgment for the time being, and so I appreciated that he was going as far as to do me a solid. “I’m aware. Thank you, though.”

He cleared his throat. “They’re saying you do dark magic.”

“What?” Corentin blurted.

He was the only one who hadn’t been brought up to date. Huxley heard everything in the advisory chamber. “I’ve embraced the dark ways,” I told him pleasantly. “Were you not aware?”

“That’s fucking bullshit,” he exploded.

So much for breathing my worries in and out. “I’m glad you think so.” I set my book on the floor and regarded Spyne. Then Huxley.

Huxley was head over heels and was about as prickly as Andie’s sister—though in a learned way. He’d been treated like crap, but something about Spyne had called to him. In this battle against the demons, I’d been thrown toward those who could help me. The quad. My cousin. Varden. The other supernaturals. Spyne. I may have felt the coven was one thread away from falling apart, but I needed to trust in the Mother’s plan for me. Surely she didn’t strike me with lightning for no reason. “Wild and I are in a mating ritual,” I said to Spyne.

Huxley’s eyes widened, and he fixed them on me.

He might as well have asked the question aloud. Are you certain?

Divulging this to Spyne ahead of the coven extended trust that had only existed between the six of us—and Varden in more recent times. It told Spyne that we accepted him as an important part of Huxley’s life.

I was opening the door to divulging more to him too. Things that would really test his trust and his relationship with Huxley.

“What do you mean?” Spyne said, scanning the others, who’d all reacted to my words.

I exhaled in a rush. Here goes. “When my magic met Wild’s at my coven initiation, something happened to us. Something was triggered, a connection and a drive that was impossible to explain and ignore. When it became clear that the situation was worsening instead of resolving, Wild and I united with the interest of figuring out how to end whatever was going on.”

“That was your goal,” Sven said, snorting. “Wild had already decided to have you.”

Spyne’s mouth was ajar. “You mean a mating ritual like Vissimo, Luthers, and demons go through? That’s…”

“Impossible?” Huxley supplied. “We thought so too. And yet each step in the ritual was a romantic one. We were able to divine that it was a mating ritual, and that the process would grant Wild and Tempest with gifts along the way.”

“There have been six steps thus far,” I said. “And each has unified us more closely, marked by the passage of twin runes that appear on us.”

I lifted my T-shirt and showed him the three runes on my stomach, and then the two runes on my upper arm—though the gateway rune had altered after another step in the ritual to reflect the forming of the initial three-strand bond.

Spyne was shaking his head.

“It’s a lot,” Huxley murmured.

“It is.” The grimoire cut off, then said, “Magus have never had mates before. Why now?”

Corey answered, “We only have theories. The chief one being that magus are the only race amongst the strongest supernatural species that do not possess the mating gift. We know that mated Vissimo and Luthers are stronger. We believe the Mother may be ensuring balance amongst the top four by granting us the phenomenon too.”

“Which could mean that more magus may follow suit,” Spyne mused.

I lifted a shoulder. “We can’t know for sure. But the Mother appeared to Wild during the last step in our ritual. Wild and I share a bond unlike usual magus bonds. We believe this connection is what enabled the Mother to grant me a fourth affinity during the battle with the demons, almost as if she used Wild’s grimoire affinity to graft one onto me.”

Spyne sat back. “The Mother’s hand is in this, that’s for certain. We can only guess at her design, but that you are here and in this with Wild is her design too.” His focus lifted to my face. “You are not involved with darkness.”

“I am not.”

“But why not tell the coven the truth from the start?” he asked. “Why let it reach this state?”

Because I’m a demon, I wanted to say. But I wasn’t about to tell Spyne everything. We’d wait and see how he managed knowing this much. “Because we weren’t sure what it was for a long time. There was just Wild struggling to control himself, and then runes being carved into us. There was just an undeniable push for us to continue through the ritual that I wasn’t sure I wanted. There was… a lot, Spyne, I won’t lie. On a personal level, there were many hurdles to get over, and every step was plagued by uncertainty.”

“Being in the situation while things unfold is different from hearing about it when most of the puzzle has been figured out,” the grimoire replied.

Yes. It really was. “The prince and pack leader elicited a strong response in Wild that wasn’t missed,” I said next. “Coven members are putting together their own version of the truth. They have no idea a mating ritual could be possible. I understand how they’ve reached their verdict.”

Spyne pursed his lips. “Their verdict has been helped along by their motives. Fear, spite, nefarious purpose, and uncertainty too. I would not be too understanding in this matter. You are guilty of no crime in regard to the mating ritual. I believe it’s something to celebrate, and something to learn from.”

I didn’t want anyone to look at my life under a lens.

“And does the black smoke come with it?” Spyne queried.

Rooke froze, and it took everything in me not to do the same. “Black smoke?”

“It’s part of what people are saying. That your skin was smoking during that fight you had with Corentin in the battle learning center.”

The one where I’d scorched the ceiling.

“And I saw it myself when you started to heal Wild after the battle with the demons,” he added. Spyne seemed to notice the silence.

I answered a beat too late. “If the smoke is to do with the mating ritual, then Wild hasn’t yet experienced the same.”

Spyne nodded and seemed to sense he shouldn’t ask more.

Huxley drew him in, and Spyne flashed him an open smile. My guilt only increased at the sight of their new closeness. My secrets weren’t just a wedge in the coven, they were a wedge in my friends’ relationship. I did my daily best to keep everything in perspective, but my mind kept reminding me that my secrets were biting me in the ass, one after another after another.

“What’s that?” Spyne broke the quiet not long after. “I’ve always wanted to ask. I sense knowledge in it.”

Sven was half asleep from the ministrations of Rooke playing with his hair. Corey was meditating after his outburst.

Oh, why not.“That’s my quipu. It’s how I store my knowledge to make connections and links.”

The grimoire’s ink-black curtain of hair swung forward as he untangled from Huxley to peer closer. “You do?”

“Yes, it’s how my magic likes to organize itself. When I arrived here and started to play Caves, I realized that I could use the quipu to help make decisions on strategy.”

Spyne whipped his head to gape at me. “That’s why you were so good at the game.”

He’d been in Vero too.

“Yes. I plan to use it now to make decisions about the demons too.” I blew out a breath. “It’s going to get much bigger if we ally with the Vissimo and Luthers.” I’d already added multiple strands for the other supernaturals after dinner, downloading the last couple of days into it. This quipu would circle the perimeter of the first level of my quarters in time. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of the braids spiraled up to the top level.

“You’re chosen,” Spyne said. “There’s no other explanation for the things you can do, and what you’re going through with Wild.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“She doesn’t like people having expectations of her,” Huxley said lazily.

My mouth opened in outrage. “That’s not true.”

“Is too. I don’t want to be a leader. I don’t want to be mated to Wild. I don’t want to do this, that, and everything that I’m obviously meant to do.”

“I don’t sound like that,” I shot back. Did I?

Spyne said, “You were placed in a ritual that allowed you to gain an affinity right as the coven needed you. Gaining that earned you the relics, which ended Caves. Your magic tends toward a unique outlet that gives you the perfect tool to make decisions with an impossible amount of considerations to weigh. How can you deny that you’re meant to wear Ryzika’s relics?”

Maybe I had a teensy-weensy issue about others’ expectations.

Huxley was smirking.

“I’m glad I wasn’t wrong about you,” Spyne said suddenly. “I didn’t feel I was. I should have trusted the reason my grimoire magic wanted me to pass you Endex’s journals. Thank you for being patient with me, High Esteemed.”

“Thank you for asking questions and reserving judgment,” I countered. “You’re one in a million. That’s why—when Huxley is an asshole, which he will be until he sorts his issues out—I will always take your side.”

Spyne smiled, and the return of openness between us was a gift in itself.

One that boosted my confidence for what may come in the morning.