Chapter 18

18

CAROLINA

“ Y ou can come out now. He’s gone.” Camila’s voice is teasing as she pokes her head into the magic room where I’m trying (once again ) to make sense of the prophecy Esme gave us.

It’s like everything else around me has stopped mattering, except for this prophecy. The words keep haunting me, spinning in my head like a riddle I can’t solve.

“When men fall, and the moon replaces the sun, a darkness will return, and a joined power will rule the worlds of might and magic.”

A joined power will rule the worlds of might and magic…

I chew on my lip, turning the words over in my mind. What the hell does joined power even mean? Is it two people? Two forces?

Nightcrawler said there were two someones behind the disappearances.

Two someones…that could be the joined power. But who?

We’d bought ourselves some time by stopping Elijah’s summoning, and maybe it was time they didn’t have. In which case, they’d either be moving quickly to regroup, or they’d missed their opening. I had a feeling it wouldn’t be that easy.

My mind was working overtime on all of these things: compartmentalizing Elijah’s death by reasoning that he would have died anyway, figuring out what “darkness” is about to return to the Mortal World, and very carefully trying to avoid thinking about what my magic was telling me about Declan (especially after last night). It was proving difficult to fight my magic, mind, and body at the same time when all they wanted to do was replay the sight of a sleeping Declan in my bed.

I scoff at Camila and turn the page in our grimoire. If only it were as easy to flip through this mess of emotions as it was to turn pages. “I wasn’t hiding from him.”

Not really, anyway. The more distance I put between him and my magic, the more I could think clearly. With him so close last night, there was no way I was going to fall back to sleep. My powers felt like a fidget spinner on a bender.

I gave myself an hour of staring at my ceiling before I slipped out of bed and levitated him into it. Seeing him on the floor had stirred something in me—something protective. The man had almost died. The least I could do was let him sleep somewhere comfortable. The ease in which sleep found him on the floor concerned me.

Maybe his profession made him used to finding sleep where he could. Or maybe his body was so desperate to find sleep after the day he’d had that the moment he closed his eyes, it didn’t matter whether it was a mattress or the warped floorboards of my bedroom floor.

A part of me worried that Camila missed something in her healing, but I knew she didn’t. She was thorough. Perhaps his body just needed to recover more completely.

It was trivial, of course. Considering all of the other things we had going on. The more pressing worry was his reaction to the news about our magic. I had prepared myself for him to haul us down to the station, but he hadn’t. Why not?

He had every reason to, and then he got several more reasons when he watched Elijah disintegrate into a pile of ash. But instead of running out of our apartment screaming, he stayed over.

I absently rub at my chest and ignore the thrumming of my magic.

Like calls to like .

Like calls to like , I mock back to my magic.

Carolina, Luna’s voice invades my mind since she’s in my bedroom sunbathing by the window, please do not mock the only thing that’s going to keep you alive should demons choose to try and kill you. Thank you.

I was surprised witches didn’t go crazy more often. Between listening to their families, their familiars, and their magic, there wasn’t a single ounce of privacy to be found.

“Whatever you say. If he comes back, should I let him know you’ve fled the country?” Camila’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I realize she’s still standing in the doorway, grinning at me.

I turn another page, pointedly avoiding looking at her. “Well, that would be suspicious to the other police officers, don’t you think?”

She perches on the arm of the sofa next to me. I can feel her eyes on me, waiting for me to crack a smile or engage in her teasing. But I’m not in the mood.

“Why do you even keep looking at that prophecy? It’s not going to tell us anything else. There’s not even an eclipse due soon, so I don’t know how the moon will replace the sun to begin with.”

Between my lack of sleep and all of the other things I had to worry about, Camila’s comments were less than welcome .

I slam the book closed and look at her. “Do you have a better idea, Camila? Is that what you’ve been doing this morning—working on some foolproof plan to bring back everyone who has gone missing and stop whatever evil that’s set up shop in Grove Meadow?”

Her jaw ticks, and a shadow passes over her features. I know I’ve struck a nerve, but I don’t care.

“Why do you have to be so mean all the time?”

Outrage flares through me. “ Mean ? You think I’m mean ? I’m trying to save us, Camila. I’m trying to make sure we can protect ourselves. If you think me being irritated that you aren’t taking this seriously enough makes me mean , then you need to grow the fuck up.”

Carolina! Luna scolds.

“Oh, you know it’s true, Luna,” I snipe aloud as I watch Camila blink back tears.

The sight of them, brimming in her eyes, sends a pang of guilt through me, but I shove it down. I can’t afford to be soft right now. She knows if she lets them fall, it gives me more ammunition against her, so she fights them back. I know it’s cruel, but I can’t stop the words. They spill out before I can rein them in.

“She’s waiting for one of us to figure out a plan so she can get back to baking pastries or whatever else it is she does all day.”

Camila storms out of the magic room and slams the door behind her while Silas looks at me from his corner of the room.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” he says in his usual apathetic tone, but I know he’s mentally consoling Camila. He’s trying to make light of the situation, but I can feel the disappointment in his voice.

I shake my head and open the book again. “I don’t want to talk about it. ”

Hours later, I’m still poring over abuela’s magic books, trying to find anything useful. My eyes burn from reading so long, but I can’t stop. If I stop, the weight of everything will come crashing down on me, and I’m not sure I can handle it.

“Silas, what’s a demonic bounty hunter?” I ask him, my voice hoarse from hours of silence.

He hops onto the couch beside me. “Where’d you see that?”

I point to the page with a brief mention of the role, which only explains that they were witches and warlocks employed by the Fates. I hadn’t realized the Fates had expense accounts. It feels like there’s so much more to this world than I even know, and I’ve been a witch my entire life.

“They’re professional narcs,” Silas hisses. His ears flatten slightly as he says it, like the very idea offends him.

I blink at him. “Come again?”

“When the Fates want information about what’s going on in the Underworld, they strike deals with demons or witches and warlocks to investigate and report back to them. Sometimes, it’s the promise of more power, time off a sentence, whatever they think will entice them to do their dirty work.”

I look down at him curiously. He’s not telling me everything. Silas, usually a terrible gossip, seldom shared anything about his life before becoming Camila’s familiar. There are stories locked inside him, secrets I’ve never asked him to tell. I wonder what else he’s keeping from us. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was ashamed of it or because he thought we might judge him for it.

“You sound like you have experience with them…”

“It’s a story for another time,” he says, kneading a spot on the couch cushion. His claws extend, pulling on threads. There’s a tension in his movements, a wariness. I grimace but don’t say anything because I have a feeling he could redirect those weapons at me…or my clothes. Besides, I know better th an to push Silas when he’s not ready to share. But that doesn’t mean I’m not filing that little nugget away for later.

“Ookay…well, do you think one of these bounty hunters might know something about this prophecy or the disappearances?”

Silas pauses his kneading and drops onto his belly. “It’s a definite possibility. Even if it’s not being widely advertised down there, the bounty hunters have an inner circle where they exchange whispers. I… may have a contact. I haven’t talked to him in a few years, but he might still be down there.”

A contact? Silas has contacts in the Underworld? I raise a brow at him. Of course, he does. I shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s still jarring to hear him talk about it so casually. Why would Silas have a recent contact in the Underworld? Perhaps that was also a story for another time.

“Can we bring him here? Summon him or something?” Because there’s no way in hell I’m going down to the Underworld without knowing all the details.

Silas shakes his head. His tail flicks in annoyance, as if the very idea is reckless. “It’s dangerous to summon a bounty hunter to the Mortal World, especially if they’re on assignment. The Fates will intervene if someone compromises their informants. If you want to talk to him, you’ll have to go to the Underworld yourself.”

My stomach drops. Just a few days ago, I didn’t even realize there was a way to enter the Underworld, and now we might have to go there.

“You think it’s a good idea to send me to the Underworld…where all the realm’s demons live?”

“I didn’t say that. If you think that getting information from someone who is constantly privy to the inner workings down there will get you the information to put an end to all of this, then maybe it’s the only way. ”

Luna?

I wait, hoping my familiar will chime in with some wisdom that will get us out of this mess.

He’s right, I fear.

I let out a deep sigh, leaning my head back on the couch. The very thought of stepping foot in the Underworld sends a cold shiver down my spine. But what choice do we have? We’re running out of options, and time isn’t on our side.

“So how do we get down there? Is there a demonic taxi service or something?”

Silas huffs in the judgmental way that only cats can master. “I know how to open portals, Carolina. No need to take your bad attitude out on me. Just because you’re having sex dreams about Detective Do-Gooder and won’t acknowledge what’s happening between the two of you doesn’t mean you need to push everyone else away.”

What?

My cheeks heat. I can feel the blush creeping up my neck, all the way to my ears. “I’m going to kill Luna.”

How dare she share that with Silas? That thing I said about privacy? Yeah, it’s suddenly much worse than I expected. How many other things has she told him about me?

You’re awfully quiet, traitor. I send the mental jab toward Luna, but there’s no response from her.

No response from my familiar.

“Don’t blame her. You’re the one pretending like you’re not thinking about it when you know she has access to your mind.” Silas stretches out, his claws retracting as he speaks, clearly enjoying my discomfort. He lives for moments like this, where he can throw my emotions back in my face.

I shake my head in disbelief. I couldn’t believe we were talking about this. “Can we go back to the visiting the Underworld thing? ”

Silas slinks over to the door. He’s clearly had enough of teasing me for now, but I know he’ll bring it up again later. He always does. “I’ll get Cami.”

As he leaves, I exhale deeply, trying to push away the mess of emotions swirling in my chest. But it’s harder than I’d like to admit.

Because Silas is right. I am pretending. I’ve been pretending that whatever is happening between me and Declan isn’t real, that my magic isn’t pulling me toward him like a magnet. But I can’t ignore it forever.