When he speaks again, his voice is trembling with power and conviction, bringing new tears to my eyes.
Tears of relief.
Tears of pride.
Tears of love.
“I promise you, Starla Milan,” he growls, dark and dangerous. “We will find the monsters who took our brothers and put that look in your eyes, and we will fuckingobliteratethem. No bone will be left unbroken, no drop of blood unspilled, no soul unbanished. When this is over, the Dark Arcana will be nothing but a myth relegated to the darkest, dustiest corners of the library.”
We watch each other in silence for a beat, Kirin’s promises bolstering me.
Baz too, if the look of wonder on his face is any indication.
But then my Devil cracks a wry smile and says, “Wow.Verypoetic, brother.”
Kirin mirrors the grin. “I thought it had a nice ring to it.”
“Me? I’m just gonna bash in their skulls and piss on their bones.”
“Also a valid choice.” Kirin gives him a playful shove as the darkness begins to recede. “Nothing says ‘fuck off for all eternity’ like pissing on the bones.”
A laugh bubbles up from deep inside my chest, finally shattering the last of the tension between us. “Okay, psychos. You’ve convinced me—we need a plan.”
“Three at a minimum,” Baz says.
“Right. Three. Got it.” I blow out a long, hot breath, blinking away the remaining tears. “Guess I’d better go put on the kettle.”
Three
STEVIE
All good planning sessions require tea—especially the balls-out, last-chance, end-of-the-world-as-we-know it ones. So back out in the kitchen, I wash the blood from my hands, tie my hair back, and give myself one job. One fucking job—that’s all I have to worry about for the next fifteen minutes.
Make the damn tea, girl. And make it count.
With excellent timing, agents Appleton and Quintana have just returned from an earlier recon mission on campus. So, while the guys catch them up on the latest and greatest Dark Arcana news and the witches bustle around the house taking stock—weapons, potions, magickal supplies, tactical gear—I pour my heart, soul, and not a small amount of magick into crafting the perfect brew.
Black tea for alertness, balanced by calming lavender. Rose petals for love—the love I feel for my mages as well as the witches who’ve become my closest friends. A whisper of cinnamon for healing and luck—Goddess knows we’ll need both. Crushed vanilla bean to remind us of home and hearth—a sweet memory to call us back safely. And finally, a few drops of essence of obsidian for protection from dark energies.
I’m calling it The Calm Before the Shitstorm—no further explanation required.
“I really hope we survive this thing, Stevie.” Isla comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist, resting her chin on my shoulder as I pour the hot tea into mugs. “I want to live long enough to see you open your own shop. You’re so amazing at this.”
I smile and let out a soft sigh. “From your lips, Isla.”
“I mean it, girl. I plan to be your first paying customer.”
“I’ll hold you to it, then.”
“It’s a date.” Grinning, she helps me carry the mugs to the table, where everyone is already taking their seats.
“So here we are, witches.” I raise my mug, skipping the preamble of small talk. “We thought we’d have more time to prepare for this battle, but we don’t. Tonight is all we’ve got left. Tomorrow, we’re going out swinging.”
“And blazing, burning, fighting, kicking, spellcasting, and whatever the fuck else we need to do to beat those sonsofbitches.” Baz winks at me across the table, the spark in his eyes giving me a bit more hope.
I salute everyone with my mug and take a long pull, and the rest follow suit, everyone doing their best to put on a brave face.
With the whole gang finally settled in around the table, I take the empty chair next to Kirin. He smiles and squeezes my knee beneath the table—a gesture that’s even more soothing than my tea.
