“Whatever it is,” she said, “we’ll deal with it.”
I opened my eyes and met her gaze across the table, but I still couldn’t bring myself to tell her.
Necromancy? No one fucked with that shit. And no matter how desperately Sophie wanted me to open up, I wouldn’t lay that on her. She was one of the good ones. If she was smart, she’d turn me in to the Fae Council—those were the rules we lived by. The ones that kept our supernatural communities secret.
Putting her in that position, well… maybe one day it would come down to friendship or morals.
And maybe I didn’t want to see which one she’d choose.
I pulled out of her grasp, wrapping my hands around my mug to keep from fidgeting. “How long have you been using magic?”
She glared at me a moment longer, then relented. “A few weeks. A month? I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I wanted to feel it out first.”
“With the coven?"
Sophie’s smile brightened. “Haley—you remember her from the dinner, right? She's teaching me blood magic and helping me reconnect with my earth energy. It’s amazing, Gray. It’s—”
“Dangerous and stupid."
She frowned. “If and when the time comes, we shouldn’t have to fight alone.”
“We shouldn’t have to fight at all. That's the point of not using magic."
“Is that so?” She glared at my chest as if she could see the darkness swirling there. “It's destroying you. The more you hold back, the more you repress and deny your true nature, the worse—”
"I said I'm fine."
True nature? No way. This morning was a freak accident, that's all. It wouldn’t happen again. Period.
I whipped the next card off the top of the Tarot deck and tossed it down in front of me, hoping for a cheery Three of Cups, maybe The Sun.
Nope.
On the face of the card, a mother stepped on a small child as he tried to climb back into her pregnant womb. Both figures had sleek, ebony bodies, but their heads were bare skulls, elongated like wild horses. A doomed ship sank into the depths of the oil-black sea behind them.
Trump thirteen. Death.
“See? See!” Sophie pointed at my chest again, her mouth stretched into a smug grin. “You aresonot fine. Even the universe agrees.”
“The universe is obviously drunk.” I picked up the card for a closer look, suppressing a shiver. Tarot wasn’t magic—it was intuitive. The moment I drew a card, no matter how distracted I was, I always got an immediate message.
But that was just it—there was no message now.
I sensed nothing. Oblivion. A great yawning blankness that stretched on endlessly, devoid of warmth or hope.
Sophie's eyes widened. “Gray…”
“It just means… a transition.” I tossed the card back onto the pile, reciting the Death card’s standard book definition. “Big shakeup. Probably the job thing. I need to figure something else out—something safer. Maybe even something with health insurance…”
I was babbling, but Sophie let it slide.
“That’s something the universe and I agree on,” she said. “Pretty sure Ronan does, too.”
“All three of you are overprotective.” I stood up and stretched my arms over my head, forcing a yawn. I needed to get out of there, away from the card and the lingering tension. “I’m exhausted. See you for dinner? Maybe we could try the new Thai place on Fourteenth? I got paid today—my treat.”
It was my peace offering. I held my breath, waiting for Sophie to take it.
Please say yes…
