Page 254 of Sorrow & Strangers

“Coming to you last year proved not to be enough, sir.” My tone is sharp, and my words are like daggers.

His eyes glow. “Thank you for the reminder of my great failure, Miss Tuatha De Daanan,” he growls, grabbing a box from the shelf and slamming it onto his desk. He opens the lid and pulls out a busted iron ring. “A piece of armor from Beowulf.” He waves his hand, and various runes hidden on the metal light up. I watch as he focuses on them, altering them before my eyes. “Curse protection,” he says. Once the runes still and fade, he holds the ring out to me.

“It’ll keep him away?” I ask, looking between the ring in his hand and his eyes.

“Him?”

“It,” I correct, releasing a shaky exhale.

“Yes. It will keep it away.”

I nod and take the ring, sliding it onto my forefinger. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Tuatha De Daanan. If it worsens, please do revisit my office, and I can alter the wards on the artifact. Now, unless there is anything else,” he says, gesturing to the door before focusing back on the work on his desk.

I leave his office without another word and without an ounce of guilt.

The stranger has tested the boundaries a few times since then. I felt the ring pulse a little in response to his powers, but the more he does it, the faster it will adapt. If he has tried in the last week, I haven’t noticed.

Alice told me the ring is only as powerful as the wielder, and luckily, I have enough power to go around. As the weeks have passed, I’ve spent every spare moment delving deeper into my power. The first thing I did was look for the bottom, but I never found it, not yet anyway. I might not know what to do with it, but it appears that I have a shit-ton of it.

“How many people have you invited?” I ask Alice as I walk down the stairs. The room has been completely transformed into a winter wonderland, putting even Connor’s display from last year to shame.

Alice glances at me, her hand in midair as she’s placing a maroon bauble on the tree that is nearly the same color as my dress.

“Is that a question you really want me to answer?”

I sigh and walk to the bar cart that Alice set up. Pouring myself two heavy measures of scotch, I take a healthy sip. “Is Rafe’s girlfriend coming?” I ask, trying to hold back my grimace at the thought of having to spend an evening with his blond bombshell of a girlfriend. It’s not that I don’t like her. She’s just high energy and loud, and they just seem like an odd pair. I still think about Mira, but we’ve all been told, under no uncertain terms, not to mention her. Rafe and Annabeth met the second week he returned to school, and at the time, it felt like the kitsune was a very welcome distraction.

“I guess,” Alice says, scrunching her nose.

“She’s okay, Al,” I say, throwing her a look, though I know I’m being hypocritical.

Alice shrugs. “I know. But she’s not right for Raf⁠—”

“Stop.”

Alice sighs, putting another bauble on the tree. “I’m still rooting for Mira.”

I can’t say that I disagree. The version of Rafe with Mira was confident, happy, and vibrant. The version of Rafe with Annabeth is timid and awkward.

“Me too,” I concede, “but we can’t. He needs this. It’s helped get him back into classes.”

“All right, supportive mode activated,” Alice says, shaking it off.

I take another deep drink, looking at the ring as it taps against the glass. My chest tightens a little, but I shake my head, clearing the thought.

Rafe comes down the stairs wearing a button-down and jeans. In that moment, I’m glad for the distraction as it gives my mind something else to think about.

“Shit,” he says, looking at the bar cart. “That is a lot of alcohol.”

Alice ponders the cart. “Really? I thought we might need more . . .”

I glance at Alice and then at Rafe. “So is Annabeth upstairs or . . . ?”

Rafe doesn’t react to her name, and he looks completely unconcerned. “She’s on her way.”

“Right,” I say with a nod.