She reminds me of the mean girls I knew at school. Bratty. Entitled. Self-absorbed. And yet, she’s proven loyal time and time again. It’s unsettling how often people prove me wrong these days.
“I have a proposition,” I say. I realize I’ve got my hand in my pocket again, brushing over Elliot’s words. I snap out of it, removing my hand and balling it into a tight fist. “An idea.”
“An idea?” Grace asks, finally looking away from Sebastian. His gaze lingers on her as she looks at me. “An idea about what?”
Her voice pitches with hope, which is nothing abnormal for her. Where the rest of us are bleak and generally pessimistic, Grace is an unending force of light. Even now, months after she first arrived in our manor, her presence feels unnatural.
I wouldn’t admit that though, especially not when Sebastian is sitting between us.
“I’ve found a potential witch ally,” I say. I level my tone, working hard to control my heart.
Beatrice, Amelia, and Milas are all staring at me now. I don’t have to return their gazes to imagine their incredulous expressions. My last potential witch ally wanted to kill me—and only their intervention kept me safe.
“You’re wasting time trying to break the curse,” I say. I glance at Grace as I add, “That door has closed.”
“In case we need reminded, Iwas the one who turned Grace.Iclosed that door,” Sebastian says, stiffening. Gone is the fool in love, here is the terrifying king we all once knew. “Not Grace.”
“Believe me, we haven’t forgotten,” Beatrice says. She jabs her index finger toward the middle of the courtyard, to the empty space where Sebastian’s statue once stood. “No one here is complaining about how that worked out.”
“You have an idea,” Grace repeats. She places her hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, and whether he realizes it or not, he instantly relaxes against her. He is a cold-hearted monster, and she brings out the best in him. I can’t help looking at them, wishing…
“Cora?” This time, it’s Sebastian.
“An old acquaintance recently found his way to the Night Realm,” I say. “He’s a healer in the Day Realm, and he needs vampire blood for a patient. I believe I can work out an agreement with him. Vampire blood for sunwalker spells.”
“Fuck that,” Beatrice snarls. “That’s obviously a trap. Lyrie’s up to something. She probably sent him to fuck with us.”
It takes all my effort not to flinch.
“I would ward the blood,” I say. “It’s simple. Quick. He’d be able to use the blood for healing purposes only, not potion-making.”
The table falls quiet as the inner circle looks amongst themselves. This is far from the first time I’ve pitched the idea of a witch ally, but it’s the first time I’ve had an actual lead. Even Virginia had been a shot in the dark—one thatclearlydidn’t land.
“It takes months for me to make a sunwalker spell,” I say. “I’ve been creating them for years, and I only have twenty-seven. It’s not nearly enough, and it won’t be enough, even if I makethem until the day I die. With an ally, I can double production. Maybe more. It’s still not enough, but it’s an improvement.”
“I want information on this supposed ally,” Sebastian says. “We don’t move forward until we’re sure we can trust him. Until we know this isn’t one of Madam Lyrie’s plots.”
“It’s Elliot Lyrie,” I say. I don’t let my nerves waver now—I knew coming into this that his name would be a problem. The least of mine, but that’s beside the point.
“As in…” Beatrice starts.
“Madam Lyrie, yes,” I say. I ignore her shrieked outburst, focusing instead on Sebastian. His expression has darkened, and even Grace’s hand on his shoulder does nothing to ease his tense shoulders.
“You didn’t mention our visitor’s name,” Sebastian says, clearly having pieced together the full story.
“I know what I’m doing, Master,” I say.
He doesn’t correct me on the formal title. He’s too busy staring at me, eyes narrowed, as if trying to decipher a hidden message in my expression. He won’t find anything.
“Very well,” Sebastian says after a lengthy pause.
“This needs to be a vote,” Beatrice snaps. When I turn to her, she’s openly glaring at Sebastian. “You aren’t a dictator anymore.”
“You want power,” I snap at Beatrice. “You’redesperatefor it, Beatrice. Well, you’re not going to get it without an army. And your army dies in the sun. This is a solution, one you clearly need. Don’t be?—”
“She’s right,” Sebastian interrupts. He holds a hand toward me, silencing me. “We’ll take a vote. Does anyone have comments before we do?”
“I do,” Beatrice snarls. “Giving our blood to witches is the most foolish thing we could do. Giving it to Lyrie’s spawn? That’s past stupidity. That’s betrayal!”
