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The call ends, and I stare at the screen for a moment before looking up to meet Jesse’s eyes. He reaches out a hand and rubs it up and down my spine, giving me some comfort.
“She doesn’t blame you,” he whispers.
“How could she not?” I reply, my voice just as soft. “I promised her we’d protect Steph. That nothing bad would happen to her. Fuck, Jesse, I blame me.”
“It’s not your fault,” Erik says, and I shoot a glance at him. “We all knew the risks, and we went, anyway. But there is no time to dwell on it. We should follow the witch’s instructions and go talk to the other covens.”
“I’ll head to the airport,” Leif says, holding out a hand.
Jesse slaps the keys into his palm and cautions him to be careful. He takes off, and Jesse, Erik, and I circle up to make a plan.
“Where do we start?” I ask.
“Bourbon Street,” Jesse says. “Windmere found us there before. Maybe they’ll find us again.”
“Seems as good a place as any,” I agree, looking at Erik.
He nods. “Let’s go.”
We have to find Windmere and Sabledown. And we have to convince them to help us.
Because if we don’t, I will give up my magic to save Steph. No questions. No doubts.
And if Brimmwise does with it what Bernadette thinks they will, God help us all.
25
MAINTAINING THE BALANCE
The electricity in the atmosphere doesn’t move me the way it did the first time we came down to Bourbon Street. That night was all about having fun, and Steph was the driving force behind it. Now, she’s gone…taken from us. And we’re here not for entertainment, but scrambling to find a way to save her.
And we can’t seem to find a single fucking witch.
“This is pointless,” I mumble in frustration.
“We’ve only been looking for ten minutes,” Jesse reminds me in a low, sympathetic voice.
“Every minute counts.”
“I know,” he says, trying to offer me some comfort by squeezing my shoulder. “We’ll find them, Eden. And they will help us.”
We leave the bar, the second of its kind we’ve searched with no luck. As we step out into the street, an idea comes to me. Gripping Jesse’s wrist, I pull him to a stop. Erik grunts in frustration, obviously angry at the delay, but settles when I meet his blue gaze with wide, hopeful eyes.
“Maybe I can draw them to us,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “They recognize Grundelier magic when they sense it, right? So I could release some of my power, drawing any nearby witches to us like a beacon.”
Both vampires stare at me for several beats before Jesse nods. “It could work. Let’s find someplace a little more private so we can speak freely when they arrive.”
His confident word choice––when, not if they arrive––fills me with gratitude and boosts my own conviction. This will work. Someone will relent to the siren’s song of my magic, and they will listen to us. They have to.
Jesse leads Erik and me into a deserted alley that smells like piss and decomposing garbage. Ignoring the putrid scent, I close my eyes and concentrate on the magic flowing through my veins. My blood seems to heat as I focus on pulling the power to my palms, my mind forming a psychic ball of energy between them. My arms vibrate under the intensity, but I hold onto control as long as I can.
I have no idea what I’m doing. Not really. But my gut is telling me this is the right move. That a concentrated burst of power is the only guaranteed way to garner the attention we seek.
When I’m sure I’ve gathered enough power, I grit my teeth and let out a ferocious roar as I clap my hands together. I stumble back a step as the magic rushes away from me in every direction. My knees turn to jelly, and I start to fall, but Jesse’s arms circle around me, catching me before I even come close to the disgusting pavement beneath us.
“Gods,” Erik whispers, and I glance over to see him staring at me with awe in his bright eyes.
“What?” I breathe, pulling out of Jesse’s embrace once I have my feet firmly beneath me once more.
