Yeah… That therapist? I woulddefinitelybe putting her kids through college. Probably her grandkids, too.
“Tell me about your experience with the Darkwinter fae,” he said.
I joined him at the edge of the wall, crossing my arms over my chest to keep the chill at bay.
“There was a faction of human hunters making waves again, trying to mobilize their forces across the globe to mount a coordinated attack against witches. We couldn’t understand how they’d grown so powerful in such a short time, but it turns out they hadn’t. Their backers, though… They were the real force behind the madness.”
“Darkwinter,” he ground out.
“Yep. They got in bed together on a plan to eradicate witches and enslave the rest of the supernatural and human populations. We’re talking some epic-level conspiracy shit, too—turning humans against each other, outing supernaturals in communities just to stir up fear and instability, crossbreeding supers to create powerful hybrids with ten times the strength and none of the weaknesses. But it was real—all of it. My sisters and I lived though it.”
“And survived.”
I nodded, that old word settling around me like a familiar security blanket. “Thanks to countless allies and a whole lot of magick, not the least of which involved my calling on the Dark Goddess, yes. We survived. Took their asses down, burned them to the ground, and fucking lived to tell the tale.” I shook my head, a bitter laugh bubbling up. “Kind of hoped I’d seen the last of them.”
“You defeated them once before, Haley. I have every confidence you’ll do it again.”
“That was in my home realm, though. Not in Midnight.”
“If it was possible there, it’s possible here.”
“I’m not so sure about that, Keradoc. You said Darkwinter shouldn’t be able to sail the unsailable sea, yet they have. They’ve outsmarted your soldiers and rebel factions both, slowly tearing their way across your lands. If they were cross-breeding supernaturals in the Bay, imagine what they can do in Midnight? In a place where they can feed off the same dark energy that runs through their veins?”
At my words, my own blood began to stir, buzzing suddenly through my veins as if my latent Darkwinter magick had heard me talking about it and decided to join the party. The faint scent of sulfur tinged the air, a hint of sweetness following.
Keradoc watched me a long moment, his eyes narrowed in silent assessment, and I wondered if he could feel it, too. The darkness. The strange mix of my magick—Darkwinter, Silversbane—mingling with the strange magick of Midnight.
But when he finally spoke again, he said only, “We need more fighters, Haley. That is another reason I brought you here tonight.” He nodded back toward the gatehouse, where the bridge was now lifting, sealing us inside the city once more. “These were all the troops the outposts south of the wall could spare, and they’re still not enough.”
“What about the people?” I asked. “The regular people? Maybe if you leveled with them, they’d—”
“The people of Amaranth City are not soldiers. They’re street fighters, Haley. Scoundrels and renegades one and all.”
“Doesn’t mean they can’t fight.” I thought of everyone who helped us in the Bay. How we’d all come together—witches, law enforcement, supernaturals—all of us ready to defend our home and the lives of everyone we cared about. “Doesn’t mean theywon’tfight, especially if they know what’s at stake.”
“This isn’t Blackmoon Bay. It’s not even Earth. It’s Midnight. A brutal, terrible realm built from the blood and bones of all who’ve been cursed with the pleasure of calling it home.” He dropped his gaze and shook his head, dark hair falling into his eyes, shielding them from my view. “They won’t fight for us, Haley. Not against a faceless goddess commanding legions of skeletons and ghouls who rise just as soon as they’re slain. Not even against Darkwinter.”
“So what’s your plan, then? Wander the realm and see if you can round up a few monsters, recruit them to the cause?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Something like that,” I echoed, air-quoting the words, “is not a strategy. And if there’s anything I’ve learned about you in my weeks of captivity, it’s that you always have a strategy. Some plan you’re cooking up, ten steps ahead of everyone else.”
He arched a delicate eyebrow, a hint of laughter shining in his eyes. “Is that what you’ve learned?”
“Well, that and how to summon fire spirits, an accomplishment we’ve already established can’t impress you.”
“Everything about you impresses me, little thief.”
His words sent another jolt skittering through my veins—one that had nothing to do with my Darkwinter magick. But before the moment turned any more awkward, he glanced back out across the wall and said, “Many years ago—centuries, actually—several members of a prominent family of noble fae were slaughtered in Amaranth City. It was a coordinated attack, a betrayal by the very gargoyles hired to protect them.”
I swallowed hard, picturing the gargoyles that had attacked us the night Hudson and I had tried to escape. They were formidable fighters, just like Hudson himself was. That night, they’d only been trying to stop us, but it wasn’t hard to imagine what it would be like to be on the receiving end of a gargoyle murder spree.
Goosebumps rose along my arms, and I rubbed them to no avail.
Keradoc shook off his cloak, the movement shifting his shirt and revealing a stretch of bare torso, the skin puckered with scars. I’d gotten a glimpse of them before—a stolen glance into his room as he was dressing for our trip to the marketplace—yet the sight of them still stole my breath, making my chest tight.
Those scars told me he’d been bitten. Mangled. And the ones I couldn’t see now, the ones that’d left their vicious marks across his entire back and both arms, told other stories. The stories of a fae who’d been burned and whipped. Shot by arrows or bullets or both. Tortured.
