London’s very own Luna Ravenwood has made a rather unfortunate reputation for herself by overstating her ability in divination for the past twenty years. Yet this has not stopped her from publishing eight volumes on witchcraft or providing courses on how to open the “third eye.”
Chapter 7
Avery
Fucked. Absolutely, unmistakably fucked,that’swhat she was. Once Gideon found out? Fates, they’d revoke her parole. He might personally recast the sleeping curse to punish her for being so stupid, or even—No. It simply wasn’t possible. Averywasn’tthat stupid. Was she?
No. There had been so many signs—things Saga herself had said—Avery had practically asked her outright if she was Mundane and the other woman had laughed at the notion. She had talked of magical properties of herbs—witchcraft!
Then there was the evidence of Reza Lahiri, Saga’s uncle, having mentioned being married to a mortal—they had a changeling daughter. But Lahiri had also confirmed his wife was a witch. A Hudson witch—and consequently that meant Saga herself was from the Hudson line. Her eyes narrowed on the woman, suspicious. “Are you pulling my leg right now?”
Saga had the gall to look indignant. “No, if anything I should be asking you that.” No, not the gall. The right. She was sincere. This was sincerity. Her arms folded. “Is this some kind of prank?”
Avery could say yes. Shecouldlie and save her own neck. It would, of course, possibly elicit a reasonable rage from Saga, which could result in harming the case and alerting the suspect. That was all, of course, assuming that Saga would even believe such a flimsy explanation for what had just happened. Though people did tend to reach for the most comfortable answer, regardless how poorly it held up to scrutiny.
Saga waited in that silence. Her eyes were glassy. Angry. No. Hurt. Shefelt betrayed, that much was clear, but thus far Avery hadn’t actually done anything to betray her.
Unless she lied now.
That didn’t sit well with her. Perhaps because it also meant severing any connection she might have started to build with a valuable ally, or perhaps simply because lying would have been what the council would want her to do. On principle, Avery was loath to do anything the council would want her to do.
“It is not a prank,” Avery admitted. “I don’t suppose we could talk about this at a later date?”
“No,” Saga insisted. “I don’t suppose wecan.”
Avery flinched. She listened to the stillness, trying to hear whether Rachel was moving in the next room. Nothing. She spoke more quietly this time, hoping that in dropping her voice, Saga would match her. “I understand you are upset, but this is officially now an active crime scene, so there isn’t really time.”
“Make time, wizard,” Saga growled.
“I’mnota wizard.”
“Fantastic!” came the sarcastic whisper. “We’ve established something you’renot. I’ve got two now.” Saga illustrated by holding up her fist, then one finger at a time as she listed. “Human and wizard.”
It was clear that the two-fingered gesture Saga flicked at her had a ruder implication than just illustrating a number, but Avery forgave it. If this was Saga’s first encounter with this kind of magic, she would be going through a rather rapid cycle of intense emotions. The only course of action was to simply let her process.
“So whatareyou?”
“I am…” Avery straightened to her full height, a towering willow of mist and silver. Any answer she gave would inevitably lead to more questions—so many questions—questions that if their roles were reversed, she herself would also be asking. But there was no time for such things. “Complicated.”
She was stalling, and Saga saw right through it. “I used to read studieson neural pathways for fun. I’m sure I’ll muddle through.”
“Fey,” Avery said bluntly. “That’s what I am—the broad strokes of it anyway. A changeling to be exact—one foot in your world, one foot in the next, but fey nonetheless.”
“Fuck off,” Saga blurted.
Avery raised her finger to her lips. “We still have a suspect outside,” she warned.
“Excuse me,” Saga hissed. “But some pretty suspect things are happeninginside. Am I supposed to just accept that? Or pretend like I didn’t notice? That this is normal for me?”
Avery contemplated Saga, then the penumbra of the ritual. Frankly, she wasn’t sure what to tell the woman. The last time she’d revealed the other side to anyone… Well, apparently mysticism had been far more rampant and easier to accept the last time. “I promise, I didn’t mean to deceive you. If I’d have known, I would have…” There were many ways she could have finished that sentence, and so Avery simply didn’t finish it at all. “Well, at the very least, I would have been a little more gentle in this reveal…” Seeing no real change in Saga’s expression, her frustration snapped. “I thought you were one of us!”
“Why would you think that?”
“We talked about magic!”
“Not like this, we didn’t! I thought you meant like the religion-based, pagan thing, you know—meditation, crystals, incense, spells as a form of prayer—that kind of thing!”
