“Just on my nose.” She crinkled it, as if it might show the sprinkles of light brown that’d cost her three hundred gold mynet to conceal.
“I don’t want you to hide anything about yourself,” Darien said. “Switch it out for another one. I’m sure your freckles are just as beautiful as the rest of you.”
Her heart felt like it was exploding. “Darien…” she breathed. Gods, could he be any more perfect?
“Promise me,” he urged.
Loren’s heart was swelling with a rosy warmth as she whispered, “I promise.”
When the waitress came by to gather up her dessert dish, and Darien signed the bill without a single copper leaving his pocket, they made their way to the sidewalk below. Nightfall had brought balmy winds that smelled faintly of the Angelthene River rushing beyond the freeway.
“I almost forgot.” Darien stopped just down the sidewalk from the revolving doors to the restaurant. He reached into his pocket, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, as he produced a flat velvet box. “I got something for you.”
“What is it?” Her voice was barely a whisper as he placed the box in her palm.
“Open it and find out, silly girl.”
“You shouldn’t be spending anything on me.” Her stomach was leaden with guilt. “The talismans have cost you enough.”
“Open it,” he urged softly. “I promise it didn’t cost three hundred thousand gold mynet.”
She gave him a look that said she certainly hoped it hadn’t. But he looked so eager for her to open the gift, that her heart squeezed, and she found herself lifting the lid off the box.
Inside was a charm bracelet of rose gold. Every charm was carved to perfection with the smallest details—and the charms, she realized with heart-stopping clarity, were miniature versions of the shops and restaurants on the Avenue of the Scarlet Star.
Of course, there was Mordred and Penelope’s Mortar and Pestle, complete with a cauldron-shaped sign above the tiny door. Then there was Medea’s Magic Tricks, Chico’s Woodfired Pizza, the Cat’s Meow, Bella’s Beauty Bar, The Golden Onion, Ella and Prince…
Loren’s jaw was hanging open. “It’s the Avenue of the Scarlet Star.” Darien was smiling at her. “You had this made for me?”
He shrugged, as if it wasn’t the biggest deal in the world. “That avenue means a lot to you, so I thought you should bring it with you wherever you go.”
She swallowed, entirely at a loss for words.
He held his hand out, palm up. “May I?” She handed over the box, and he removed the bracelet and hooked it around her wrist, where it glimmered softly beneath the streetlights.
Tears stung her eyes at the amount of thought behind this incredible gift. She closed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck.
“Thank you,” she said into his shirt. He wound his arms around her waist and pressed his face into her hair, holding her so close she could feel his heart beating against her own. It didn’t escape her that this was the second time they’d hugged—and it was just as good as the first time. “No one has ever done anything this nice for me before.”
He made to answer, but whatever he was about to say, he never had the chance.
Screams rippled through the night, causing them to pull apart from each other.
A crowd had gathered just down the street, and people were pointing in horror at something that was anchored to the wall of a jewelry store.
Every thought was wiped out of Loren’s mind as she followed Darien down the street. As soon as her brain was able to make sense of what she was seeing, her heart stopped.
It was a dead body. Just like the one Darien had told her about that he’d seen in Calanthe’s photographs.
Another of the missing girls was anchored into the wall like a hunting trophy, her flesh and blood—and the smattering of magic that was left behind by whatever spell had been used to end her life—were spread out around her in a way that looked like phoenix wings. Her eyes were closed, and blood was streaming from them, sparkling just like the magic that looked like fiery feathers on the white brick wall.
Two words had been drawn in blood below the girl’s corpse.
WE’RE WAITING.
It was a message—forher. A threat of what she could expect from the days ahead, should she continue to hide.
Loren’s blood turned to ice as three gunshots peeled through the night. The citizens milling about the sidewalks, and those who’d stopped to gawk at the dead body, screamed and scattered.
