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Too soon, the pressure in my gut from the sun’s descent forced me to move. Judging from the pressure, it was about four o’clock. Just an hour or so before night’s shadow spread over the Big Easy.
After the day spent making love, Adam slept soundly. His eyes didn’t flutter when I carefully removed his hand and slipped from the bed. I dressed quickly, my eyes on him for any sign of waking. Finally, I grabbed my gun from the nightstand and shoved it into my waistband. Just as the weapon slid home, Adam murmured my name and rolled away. I stilled, expecting him to jump up and demand an explanation. But he settled down and soon his slow, even breaths were the only sound in the room.
As I watched him, I realized that David had been right that a tough choice would have to be made. After the Queen’s order, I’d assumed the Maisie-versus-Lavinia issue would be that choice. But now I knew the choice was between saving those I loved and pursuing my own goals.
Too many lives had already been disrupted. Too many bodies injured. And in the early morning hours, wrapped in Adam’s arms, I asked myself the question that sealed my fate: Could I live with myself if anyone died? Not just Maisie, but Adam, Giguhl, Rhea, Zen, Georgia, or, hell, even Mac.
I’d been through it before. With Vinca. Her loss was still a hot, sore spot on my heart. Losing her hadn’t killed me, but it still haunted me. But Vinca died when I was the old Sabina. The one who didn’t understand the meaning of loss. The one who didn’t think about the consequences of actions.
This was the new me. The one who had more friends than she ever imagined. The one who had it in her power to protect those friends. This me understood that losing any of them would destroy me. So, in reality, this sacrifice I was about to make was totally selfish.
Maybe I hadn’t changed so much, after all.
I mentally shook myself. I knew one thing: The mere thought of Adam dying made me want to scream. Plus, one small sacrifice on my part meant he wouldn’t have to choose between duty to the Council and his conscience. I might not be able to offer him pretty words, but I could at least give him this much.
Besides, the more I thought about it, the more I realized going it alone seemed some sort of inevitable poetic justice. This whole drama had started with my parents and their star-crossed love affair. And now it would end with their daughter. I’d do everything in my power to save my sister, and then I’d do whatever it took to kill my grandmother before she could summon the master.
Fuck fate and David’s fatalism. I was going to make destiny my bitch.
With one last, longing look at Adam’s smooth, muscled back, I grabbed my boots and tiptoed from the room. Like a thief in the night, I crept down the hall. When I reached the door to the workroom, I heard the muffled sounds of Zen and Rhea making plans. Holding my breath, I made it by the door without any creaks of the floorboards to give me away. Farther down the hall, the fae’s door was also shut. But instead of hushed voices, I heard the telltale sounds of a snoring demon. Apparently, Giguhl had crashed in PW’s room. I paused, placing my hand on the door.
Not being able to say good-bye to Giguhl was one of my biggest regrets with this plan. Once I was dead, Giguhl would immediately return to Irkalla. Demons were always tethered to the mage who summoned them. If the mage died, the demon went back to the underworld. Adam would be able to bring him back, though, and I prayed they’d at least keep in touch. But if that wasn’t possible, I prayed my friend would eventually be able to forgive me.
Downstairs, I rushed through the empty shop, grabbing Zen’s keys from the back office as I went. I threw on my boots and opened the back door. With my hand on the knob, I stopped and looked over my shoulder. Behind me, the dark shop, with its musty, mysterious smells, sat in quiet judgment. Ahead, the rain had stopped, leaving the courtyard heavy with the scent of wet cobblestones and the sharp green scent of plants. A few rogue rays of late-afternoon sun broke through the cloud cover.
Oddly, I didn’t fear death. Not if it was on my own terms. And not if it meant that everyone in the building above me stayed safe.
I paused as Pussy Willow’s words from the day before came back to me. Guess she was right, after all. I was capable of connection. Maybe even love.
Yeah, I decided, love .
Because even though I didn’t have a lot of history with that particular emotion, what else could explain this sudden unfamiliar but fierce need to protect?
Ironic that I finally figured that out right before I left them for good. Would Adam forgive me? Giguhl? Eventually, I decided. After they got past their anger.
Behind me, the concussion of a large expenditure of magical energy exploded through the building. My heart contracted from the pressure and the curtains in the office fluttered. The Queen’s knights and the Pythian Guard had arrived. Which was my cue to exit. With any luck, Adam would be so busy dealing with them he wouldn’t be able to come looking for me until it was too late.
As the sounds of male voices and the pounding of boot heels filled the store, I took a deep breath and stepped out into the light. Then, without another backward glance, I ran toward the street. But I couldn’t help feeling like I’d left something important behind.
I checked the clock as I sped through the French Quarter. Four-twenty p.m. Since Lavinia couldn’t handle the sunlight, she’d be forced to wait until true night to perform the ritual to summon Cain. That meant I have about forty minutes to get to the cemetery, get Maisie out of harm’s way, and kill Lavinia.
At the last minute, I’d forgone Zen’s Gremlin in favor of a black Kawasaki motorcycle I’d found parked off Bourbon. I revved the engine and sped up, enjoying the familiar power of 180 horses between my thighs. My own bike— a cherry-red Ducati— had met an untimely end on a highway outside Boisie several weeks earlier thanks to Lavinia’s assassins. I still hadn’t finished mourning its demise. But now I leaned into the power and allowed myself to enjoy the breeze on my face, the dip of my stomach, the brief moment of freedom.
Ten minutes after I left Zen’s shop, the brakes squealed to a halt in front of the Cajun Sausage Fest. I hated the time this would waste, but I knew better than to go into a confrontation with Lavinia without ample reserves of blood. Even though I’d recently fed from Adam and his blood still tingled in my veins, I wasn’t taking any chances.
The sign we’d hung on the door read “Closed for religious observances.” Few in a Catholic-rich city like New Orleans would question the Cajun closing down for All Saints’ Day. That meant I didn’t have to worry about anyone snooping around looking for Alodius while I was inside. I pulled his keys from my pocket and clicked the lock open.
