Page 123 of Fallen Court

“Is that a problem?” she challenged, hands on her hips.

“No, no.” He held up a palm, and I felt compelled to defend him.

“Sirius isn’t prejudiced,” I said firmly, though my mind churned with worry. “She’s trying to help me with it. A couple of witches have, but they can’t seem to undo the spell,” I continued, turning the conversation back to the ring. “It’s pretty much glued to me.”

“Weird.” He leaned closer to the camera as if proximity would grant him a better look. “Usually, joining spells are linked to another object. But attaching an item to a person? That’s different. I mean, it could be useful,” he mused. “I’d never lose my keys again.”

“Is it like Lach’s memento mori?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, the mention of that dark mark sending a ripple of unease through me.

“Not exactly. A memento mori is a condemnation—inescapable once branded.” He rushed to add, “From what I know, anyway, but we’re working on it.”

“Right.” Nausea swirled in my stomach. “So, you think someone was worried I would lose the ring?”

If that was the explanation after everything we’d gone through to get answers, that would be…lame.

“Could be,” he said with a nod. “It could also be for protection or occlusion—it’s often a fine line between the two. If you wanted to have someone nip you over, I could take a look.”

There was no way that was going to happen.

“Things are messy here right now.” I wondered how quickly news would spread to the other courts. The bona fides spell didn’t stop anyone from talking to people outside of New Orleans. “But I’ll let you know. What was the other spell you mentioned?”

“An occlusion spell,” he repeated. “But I bet it just comes off when it’s ready to.”

He made it sound so easy. If he only knew.

I opened my mouth to ask more, but Willow interjected, gingerly holding up a wilted tulip. It was so lifeless that it seemed an affront to nature itself. “What about this?” She waved the flower, and three petals fell off. “I had a basic eternal blooming spell on it, and bam! The magic is just gone.”

I bit my lip, my anxiety coiling tighter in my belly. Maybe it wasn’t just political tension between the covens. Maybe the city was struggling beneath the weight of the bona fides spell. If that proved to be the case, I knew what Lach would do. Suddenly, I wanted to vomit.

He studied the flower with a frown. “Even basic spells can glitch. It might just need a jump start,” he said simply, yet his eyes betrayed a hint of concern that matched my own. “Or maybe someone tried to borrow your magic and accidentally siphoned it off.”

They might as well have been speaking in code, but Willow nodded thoughtfully. Before I could ask them to explain any of what they were saying, movement flickered behind him on the screen and Romy and Fiona appeared, engrossed in their own conversation. Romy’s gaze floated over Sirius’s shoulder and brightened when she caught sight of us.

“Hey, Cate! Hi, Willow!” she chirped, leaning into view. Her smile was a welcome beam of light. “I’m glad you two connected.”

She attempted to coax Fiona forward, but Lach’s sister stormed off-screen, her departure as sudden as a gust of wind slamming a door shut. Just my existence seemed to piss her off.

“Is something wrong in Prague?” The question spilled from me.

Romy’s smile wavered, her eyes darting away for a brief moment before returning to mine. “Things are…moving slowly,” she admitted, and my heart sank. “But we may be on to something!” She glanced behind her. “I should go check on Fi. It was good to see you.”

“Everything will come together,” Sirius added smoothly. His confidence was meant to buoy us, but the tension in his shoulders told a different story. He’d meant what he said earlier about the memento mori, and if he couldn’t find a way to undo it with alchemy, what chance did we have at saving my mate’s life?

“Thank you.” I wasn’t sure that we’d learned anything groundbreaking, but his willingness to help, to open more of his home if I came knocking on his door, meant a lot to me.

“Let me know if you want to visit.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing quickly. “Your friend could come, too.”

“Will do. Catch you soon.” I ended the call before Willow could prompt me to propose to him on her behalf.

“I’m going to marry him,” she announced as soon as I set the phone down.

“As long as I’m invited,” I muttered.

The events of the last six hours sat like lead on my chest as I escorted Willow down to the lobby. She continued to ask questions about Sirius, and I answered absently, more preoccupied than ever with what to do next if neither my ring nor the memento mori could be removed.

The hotel was still fairly quiet this early in the morning, and our steps echoed in the deserted lobby, a stark reminder of the emptiness that enveloped me without Lach by my side. When we passed through the Avalon’s revolving door into the brisk morning air, his presence hit me like a sudden drop in temperature. He paused on the lowest step, his gaze frosty as it swept over Willow.

“What’s she doing here?” he demanded.