The sound of her true voice, the warmth in her blue-green eyes… It’s her. In a flash, that cold wind vanishes, taking the last of my nausea with it. I close my eyes and press my lips to the top of her head, heart thudding in my chest. I can’t talk around the knot of emotion lodged in my throat.
“Where… where are the mages?” she asks.
“Right where we left them.” Jude thumbs toward the area on the other side of the counter, where the two assholes are still slumped against the pillar, heads lolling.
“Did I… Are they dead?” she asks.
“Almost.” Jude strokes her hair. “You sliced-and-diced them pretty good, darling. I’ll finish up the rest.”
“I… what?” Her brow knits with confusion. “I don’t… I don’t remember it. Why don’t I remember it?”
I set her on her feet, taking her hands in mine and forcing a smile. “Shock response. Totally normal.”
I have no idea if that’s true, but right now, it seems like the only logical explanation. And I need to believe thereisa logical explanation for this, because the alternative is too fucking horrifying to consider.
“I need to finish it.” She pulls out of my hold and heads for the counter. “They need to die. Now.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Jude says, following her.
How the fuck he can be so calm right now is beyond me. It’s beyondhim, this sudden newfound ability to keep a cool head whenever West seems to need him the most.
She grabs the dagger again, but he’s right beside her, gently prying it out of her fingers.
“Give it to me,” she whispers. “I need it.”
With his free hand, he cups her cheek. “No, scarecrow. You’ve done what you came here to do. It’s over now.”
“Jude, I… Please. I need to kill them.”
“I can’t let you do that.” He frowns, tracing his thumb along her lower lip. “Killing them… It’ll destroy a part of you I’m not willing to give up on just yet, even if you are.”
“Auggie?” She turns to look at me as I join them at the counter, her eyes pleading, tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Jude’s right, witchling. This isn’t something you need to do. Let him take care of it. Please?”
She glances at the mages again, then at her hands, still trembling.
She’s silent for so long I worry we’re losing her again, but then she finally nods, a deep, shuddering breath rattling through her.
I fold her into my embrace. Hot tears soak through my shirt.
“I don’t remember it,” she breathes. “I don’t remember anything after picking up that knife the first time. Just… a bright light and… and then I was in your arms.”
I meet Jude’s gaze over the top of her head, mouthing for him to text Draegan. He needs to get herenow. Get her the fuck out of here so Jude and I can finish the job, throw the evidence into the incinerator, and put this whole fucking night behind us.
“It’s okay, witchling,” I murmur, stroking her back while Jude exchanges a volley of texts with Drae. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to worry about it now. We’ll figure it out at home. Let’s just clean up a bit, okay?”
She allows me to bring her back to the sinks, where I help her wash the blood from her hands and face. There’s still a bit smudged around her hairline, but at least she looks more like herself again and less like... Well, less like fucking Jude.
“Better?” I ask.
“I… I’m not…” She blows out another shuddering breath and looks up at me again, her eyes wide and lost and glazed with some new, inexplicable fright. “Um… Auggie?”
“Hey. Hey, take a breath. You’re okay. You’re just—”
“Something’s wrong with me. All of a sudden, I feel…” She closes her eyes and swallows hard, her heartbeat ratcheting up a few notches.
Fuck. Even with the human glamour dimming my gargoyle senses, I can still hear it thudding away inside her—just like I can scent the sudden, inexplicable spike of her desire.
