“Kenna,” she provided.
“You two weren’t breathing.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “If you weren’t here—” Anger won out over her battling emotions. “Who is this bastard?” Rachel inquired under her breath.
“Could it be more than one?” I suggested.
Kenna answered. “Maybe. But highly unlikely. The magic was consistent. All our magic has a signature, which is why we can detect it and can detect if there are more involved in a spell. My magic would feel different than Rachel’s although our abilities are very similar and we’re from the same coven. This magic feels like the actions of one person.” Kenna blinked rapidly as if trying to clear her vision.
They seemed okay but moved gingerly to gather their things.
“Since we can’t locate the caster of the curse, we need to figure out how to remove it,” Madoc said, defeat heavy in his voice and expression. None of them displayed the level of confidence they had earlier, and my hope was plunging to the depths of hell.
“How much time does she have?” Mave asked.
“About seventy hours,” I provided, shaving off an hour as a buffer.
“The kinborn magic did that?” Madoc’s eyes sparked with the same intrigue he’d shown earlier.
Cirrian moved into view in a silent warning. Knowing my face would betray me, I averted my eyes and nodded.
“We might need their help,” Rachel admitted, grabbing her tote and hoisting it onto her shoulder with effort. She seemed exhausted.
“William introduced us. I don’t have their contact information, but I’ll see what I can do to get it. They seem rather private.”
I was surprised by how easily they nodded their understanding.
“Contacting them will be our last resort,” Madoc said with disappointed acceptance in his voice.
“We have research to do. I’ll keep you updated,” Rachel told me.
Their slumped shoulders and dejected mood made it hard to stay optimistic as I walked them out.
“When we undo the curse, I’m still determined to find the one who cast it,” Rachel said, her voice laced with more anger than conviction. Her eyes burned with a fierce determination, but I could see the uncertainty flickering behind it. “This can’t just go unpunished.” The hold on her tote tightened.
The daunting reality of the situation lingered. Undoing a curse without knowing its exact origins, the specifics of the wording, or the many intricacies that went into spellcasting made it nearly impossible to remove. A curse was just a nefarious spell that used death as its foundation and caused it.
I still sent up a silent plea for them to be successful.
Once they were in their car, I pressed my forehead to the closed door, blinking back tears of helplessness.
“Get out of my house!” I demanded, feeling Cirrian behind me. Unable to bear looking at him, I kept my back to him. “What part of that request did you not understand?” I said, spinning toward him when his unnerving presence remained. I probably looked feral, tapping into a part of me that needed to be cruel and heartless to kill the spellcaster. It still lingered without a target. Now it had one: the infuriating, arrogant shadow god.
An easy, taunting smile flitted over his lips and reached his eyes. “As a ‘coerced guest,’ can that offer be rescinded? After all, my presence was demanded, not requested.”
“Fuck. You.”
He leaned down and licked his lips before placing them a breath from mine. “Oh, I’d love that. You’re so furious right now, our fucking would be wild and passionate. Imagining the scratching, biting, and unrestrained raw emotions is making me wild. I accept your invitation.”
“Go be a rabid dog somewhere else. You know what I meant!” I snapped.
“Do I?”
“Yes. What about this situation makes you believe I want to give you anything other than well-deserved pain?”
“Are you flirting with me? You know I have an uncanny appreciation for pain.”
If nothing else, I’m a good host. He liked pain? Who was I to deny him? Especially when I could serve it with a side of righteous anger. I swung and connected with his side. It was like punching granite. No wonder they were so damn hard to kill.
