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It didn’t matter, really. Not anymore. What did matter was that I didn’t have to worry about running into any mages in this part of the city. They’d all be up in Sleepy Hollow for the festival.
I turned right on West Fifty-ninth instead of heading into the park. With the trees of the park whispering in the breeze on my left and the cacophony of the city on my right, I felt pulled in two directions. I kept my eyes straight ahead, not giving in to the tension on either side.
About a block later I heard flapping wings, followed by a screech. I stopped and looked into the shadows. A pair of red eyes blinked at me from a tree just inside the park. I hadn’t seen Stryx in days. So much had been going on, I hadn’t even noticed his absence, to be honest. Seeing him now made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. But then I remembered Maisie said she’d send me a message. Had she sent Stryx?
As I neared his tree, Stryx took flight, leading me farther into the woods. I followed but pulled my gun just in case. There’d been too many surprises since I’d come to New York not to take the precaution.
Finally, the owl stopped on top of a bridge arcing over the trail. The park was quiet. A curfew kept most normal people out this time of night.
Approaching footsteps sounded behind me. I spun into a crouch, my gun ready for action. Damara stopped short at the mouth of the tunnel, her hands raised. “Whoa, chill out. It’s just me.”
I frowned. “Damara?” Relief over seeing a familiar face was mixed with confusion. Damara seemed like an odd choice for Maisie to send with a message. “How’d you find me?” Maisie had sent me to Vein, so she would have sent Damara there first.
She nodded behind me toward Stryx. “I used the owl to track you down.”
Sounded reasonable, so I nodded, but I was still tense. If Maisie had sent Damara it meant something had changed. “What’s going on?”
Damara waved a hand. “Maisie wants you to meet her at the Crossroads tonight.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“Orpheus worked everything out with Queen Maeve. Convinced her you were defending yourself. The council has dropped all charges against you.”
I frowned. “If everything’s fine, why didn’t Maisie come and tell me this herself?”
“The festival. She’s been really busy getting everything ready.”
While I absorbed that, Damara fidgeted impatiently. In fact, she seemed downright agitated. I hadn’t noticed it at first, since she caught me off guard. My instincts told me something wasn’t right.
“So why not send Adam? Or Giguhl?”
She looked to the left. “I don’t know. Look, we need to hurry.”
I lowered my eyebrows. “Why the rush?”
“It’s a surprise.” She crossed her arms. The move made her shirt gape and exposed a glint of gold between her br**sts.
“I don’t like surprises.” I crossed my arms, mirroring her. “Nice necklace, by the way.”
She looked down and released her arms. Then her eyes shifted, going hard as she looked at me again. “Thanks. It belonged to my mother.”
My eyes narrowed. “Did it, now?”
She pulled the necklace from her shirt and toyed with it. “She gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday. One week before she disappeared.”
I stilled. Rhea had told me Damara’s mother had died at the vineyard. Even though my instincts told me something was off here, a trickle of doubt crept in. Maybe the girl didn’t know the significance of the necklace. “Does that symbol mean anything?” I asked, playing dumb to see if she knew.
Damara laughed, the sound bitter. Her posture transformed from the drooping slouch of a teen to the tight, hard stance of a pissed-off woman. “Sabina, let’s not patronize each other,” she said, her voice dripping with scorn. “We both know what this symbol means.”
“What does the Caste have to do with all this?”
“All you need to know is they want you dead, and I’m going to make sure they get their wish.”
“Be careful, little girl.” I lifted my gun. “You’re playing a dangerous game here.”
She crossed her arms, unruffled by the weapon aimed at her chest. “The only one in danger here is you. Who do you think manipulated the weres into attacking you? Who do you think summoned Eurynome? Who do you think forced Lenny to go after that annoying demon of yours? You think you’re so tough, but you’re really just an idiot who doesn’t know when you’re not wanted.”
I raised my eyebrow. “If you’re so dangerous, why am I still alive?”
She gritted her teeth. “I’ll admit it was a mistake to send others to do my dirty work. But now I’m going to finish the job I started the night you arrived.”
“Well, you can certainly try,” I said, raising the gun.
She smiled wickedly at the gun. Suddenly, the static of rising magic made the hair on the back of my neck prickle. Before I could pull the trigger, a stun spell slammed into me. My limbs went cold and heavy.
She laughed and plucked the gun from my frozen hand. “Too bad your demon isn’t here to save you this time. He proved incredibly hard to kill, and I wasn’t sure how I’d manage to get you alone after he survived the attack at Vein. Of course, then you f**ked up and got the council to turn against you, which made it a lot easier to get you alone tonight.” Her fist cracked into my jaw. “That’s for killing Hawthorne, you bitch.”
I couldn’t move, but I could feel. And right then my blood felt like lava in my veins. The muscles in my jaw ached from both the blow and from wanting to scream at her. To demand answers.
“Ooh, you’re mad, aren’t you?” she said with a fake pout. “You haven’t figured it out yet, have you? You’re dying to know why and how.” She whistled low, and a second later Stryx landed on her shoulder. She raised her free hand to pet the owl. “Did you know several human races consider owls harbingers of death?”
I racked my brain, trying to remember if Damara had ever been around when Maisie and I discussed my immunity to the forbidden fruit. I prayed she hadn’t been. Because if she shot me, I’d survive and get a chance to teach this little bitch a thing or two about harbingers of death.
She moved closer now, crowding me. I couldn’t see the gun, but I sure as hell felt the cold steel digging into the skin over my heart. “Who’s going to mourn you, murderer?”
Knowing you’re about to get shot is strange. Several things happen at once. Normally, you brace yourself for impact, but frozen as I was, I could only watch and wait. You hear the explosion. Feel the punch of the bullet. The scent of gunpowder singes your nose. But it takes a few seconds for the pain to register. In this case, because she’d shot at such close range, the bullet seared a path through my chest before forcing its way out my back.
