I dreamed of the fire again, of flames spilling from a great cauldron like the one in the Judgment card, devouring the city, its buildings, its people. This time, I was chained to Zorakkov by a collar around my neck, and all the while, the mysterious dark fae monster whispered through my memories, his cold rasp an echo in my skull…
Don’t fear, little one. Everything is unfolding exactly as it should be…
I kick off the sheets and take a few deep breaths, clearing the wreckage from my mind—more fallout from my mother’s truth bombs, no doubt. Over the past three nights, I’ve read through her letters dozens of times, only to end up more confused than ever.
And more determined to figure out my magic. Dark fae or not, I need to get a better handle on it… Beforeitgets a handle on me.
The guys keep reassuring me that just because my father is a Wintermoon fae doesn’t mean I’ve inherited his evil. That at the end of the day, we all have choices, and bad genetics aren’t a death sentence. But we’re not talking abouthumangenetics. I’ve got noble fae blood running through my veins.Darkfae blood. And not just any dark fae, but the worst of the worst.
The runes, the glowing violet light, the magic that allows me to read the Codex…
Until I can figure out exactly what it is, exactly where it comes from, and exactly what it can do, I’m not making any assumptions.
They tell me I’m good because theywantme to be good. That’s who they see when they look at me. Hell, that’s whoIsee when I look at myself. But I spent too many years of my life being too scared and submissive to look beneath the surface. I can’t do that anymore—not with this.
My gargoyles are too important to me.
I sit up in bed—Jude’s bed, if we’re being technical—and stretch my arms over my head, popping my back. Huxley pads into the room, followed by his sister, undoubtedly looking for snacks.
“Did you two already eat your hidden stash of crackers?” I laugh, giving them both head rubs and a few kisses before I spot a gift box on the night table with an envelope addressed to me.
I recognize Rook’s handwriting immediately.
Stomach fizzing with delight, I tear open the envelope and read the card.
Gone out to Long Island to meet with my occult studies contact tonight. I’ll be back late. In the meantime, here’s a little something to help ensure you’re safe, and a little something else to help ensure I’m never far from your thoughts… among other things.
Fondly,
Your Naughty Professor,
Rook
On that deliciously mysterious note, I set the card aside and open the box, revealing two items, each with their own additional card.
The first is a smartwatch customized with a band of pretty silver links.
You can use this to call, text, or video chat with any of us,the card says.As well as emergency services. As long as you’re wearing it, we’ll always have a way to get to you. I hope you like the design.
It’s beautiful—the perfect mix of modern and classic. I fasten it around my wrist, surprised at how light it is, and turn it on. The black face comes to life with the time and date.
The second card reads,I designed this especially for you. It’s clean and ready to wear. No further instructions but this: put it in. NOW.
Put itin? Does he meanon? Is he still talking about the watch? But… no. This note was definitely attached to the second gift. It’s a small silk pouch holding something about the size and shape of a tube of lipstick, but much weightier.
I open the pouch and tip the object into my palm. Smooth, silver, rounded on both ends like a…
Oh, goddess. Is this what I think it is?
The moment the thought enters my mind, the mysterious little bullet starts vibrating in my hand, startling my poor ravens out of the room.
The watch lights up with a video call.
Rook.
I tap it to accept the call. His face immediately fills the screen, and the vibrating stops.
“You aren’t wearing your gift,” he says by way of a greeting.
