Glistening under the moonlight, blood pooled beneath the woman’s head, dark and viscous. Caelith dropped to his knees beside her, but as he leaned closer, a fresh spray of blood erupted, splattering his cream-colored jacket. And a glistening bit of—was that brain matter?—landed squarely on his lapel.
“Goddess!” he choked, recoiling as his face drained of color.
From her hiding spot, Emmaline grimaced, but a tiny, involuntary snort escaped her. She quickly clapped a hand over her mouth, stifling the laugh before it could escape. It wasn’t funny, of course. Not really. But there was something about Caelith’s disgusted expression, the way he held his arms out as though afraid to touch his own clothes, that was absurdly… satisfying.
“She should’ve watched where she was going.” Emmaline bit her lip to keep from giggling outright as Caelith stood abruptly. Why did the urge to laugh always strike her at the worst possible moments?
Tugging at his stained coat with two fingers, he held it away from his body like it might bite him.
“Tink’s titties. What do I… gods, what do I do?” He took a tentative step closer, his heels catching on the edge of her gown. Grimacing, he bent down, his hand hovering uncertainly above her neck, fingers twitching.
Is he checking for a heartbeat?Emmaline leaned forward.
“Come on,” he hissed at himself. “Just… just—”
But he jerked his hand back instead, raising it to his mouth as he stumbled away.
Hidden in the bushes, Emmaline shrank further into the shadows, her own pulse pounding in her ears. She clutched the leafy branches around her like they could shield her from what she’d just done… or at least from getting caught.
She can’t be dead, the thought echoed in her mind. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.If anyone finds out…
Backing further away, Caelith fumbled in his coat pocket, pulling out a small, engraved golden disc—a Lord’s version of a speak-easy, as they were called. It was the Vale’s answer to human-made cell phones out in the mundane world.
He twisted one of the dials, the faint scrap of metal against metal slicing through the quiet, before raising the disc to his lips.
“Get out here. Now.” His voice was low and clipped.
The disc hummed as the other end connected. Whatever reply he received was too soft for Emmaline to hear, but she saw his shoulders stiffen, and his fingers tighten around the device.
“Just hurry,” he snapped before cutting the connection with another flick of the dials.
Emmaline’s chest ached as she watched him pace in small, frantic circles, his hands running through his perfect golden hair, leaving it deliciously disheveled.Even in distress, he is magnificent.
But then her eyes slid back to the unmoving figure on the ground, and the gnawing dread in her stomach deepened.
Is she… dead?
The thought hit her like a punch to the gut. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen death before. Anyone who’d been around for the War and then the Great Move from Wales to the New World had seen more than their fair share of horrific violence. But murder was still frowned upon, and if caught, she’d… The air escaped her lungs in short, sharp bursts. She didn’t know exactly what would happen to her. A full-blood Ellyllon of the upper classes had not been murdered in hundreds of years.
They’ll take him away from me. Her heart raced faster.
Biting her lip, she began to inch backward through the hedge, her mind spinning. Her plan might have gone a little too far, but it wasn’t her fault the woman had tripped so spectacularly. None of this would have happened if she’d stayed home instead of trying to steal Emmaline’s Goddess-given mate. This was just fate correcting itself. Right? Nobody could be mad about that.
She had almost reached the edge of the foliage when her speak-easy chimed from her dress pocket.
Oh shite.
Caelith froze, his head snapping toward her, eyes narrowing as his hand hovered over his belt knife.
“Who’s there?” He scanned the shadows as if he could pluck the intruder out of hiding with sheer will.
Her speak-easy—blasted thing—continued to chime softly in her pocket, the glowing runes casting soft, traitorous light onto the leaves around her. Of course, it would go off now. Why not? The Goddess clearly had a sense of humor, which apparently involved throwing her into increasingly absurd levels of mortal peril and embarrassment. Which was worse, she didn’t know.
Freaking Ursula, she thought, glancing at the call signature on the device.If there’s trouble, that witch always finds her way into the center of it.
“It’s all right.” His brows furrowed, expression shifting from alarmed to calculating. “Whoever you are, you don’t have to hide. Just come out, and we can talk. You saw what happened, didn’t you?”
His tone had lost any trace of tension.
