Page 140 of Fallen Court

There would be no point in bringing down the ward if I wasn’t here for the Wild Hunt to collect.

“And Étienne wasn’t just any vampire, and Thalia wasn’t just any witch. They both supported creating the spell. They convinced their covens to help with it.”

“The human was just a tourist,” Roark hedged.

“Better to cover tracks. Just like with Haines. If the victims don’t have too much in common, it’s harder to establish a pattern. But I’m guessing if they went after Thalia and Étienne, they won’t choose a random victim to bring down the bona fides.” She held up her hand. “So like I said, one more murder. Five points on the map. It’s not just about the ward. They’re sending a message. To you.”

The Cabal. Goemon had tried to warn us. We weren’t just up against a killer. We were up against a fucking conspiracy.

One more murder, and the bona fides would fall, taking my court with it.

“Thank you.” I meant it, and that made what I had to do even harder. If the Cabal discovered that we knew, they would act. Surprise was our only advantage. If Willow was right, if they were trying to send a message, the first thing I had to do was keep my family safe. The Cabal couldn’t find out that we knew what they were up to, and that left me little choice in the matter.

I tilted my head at Roark.

He lunged for Willow, careful to pin her hands to her side with one arm.

“What the…” Roark’s other hand covered her mouth before she could start an incantation. Willow arched, her feet kicking wildly, but without magic, she didn’t stand a chance against him.

“Deal with her,” I ordered him. Willow’s eyes went wide, and she tried to shake her head.

“How…permanently?” he asked carefully.

Willow had helped us. She was Cate’s friend, so I found myself saying, “Take her to the Otherworld. Put her in the oubliette.”

Willow thrashed in his arms, but she was no match for Roark. She wouldn’t be able to access her magic there, and she knew it. Still, it wasn’t a death sentence. Not yet.

“Get everyone home,” he said, starting to turn. We needed to reinforce the spell through whatever means possible, but their safety had to come first.

“Wait.” Something else had occurred to me. “We’re going to need a witch we can trust to weave new threads into the spell.” I eyed Willow for a second. Maybe a deal could be struck. I waited for her to stop fighting him, waited for her to turn eager, pleading eyes in my direction.

Instead, they rolled back in her skull, only the whites visible. Her entire body went limp, and then she seized. A thin string of spit dripped from her mouth as her body spasmed.

“What the…” Roark lowered her to the ground and knelt beside her while she convulsed.

“Careful,” I warned him. “It could be a trick.” But something told me it wasn’t.

He knelt beside her, his eyes flashing up to mine as hers fluttered. Suddenly, she went still. Roark leaned over her, concern creasing his brows, and her hand shot up. She grabbed his collar, her eyes opening just long enough for her to deliver one final warning. It came out in spurts, each word rattling me to my core.

“Cate… My spell… I think she just undid it.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Cate

My ears were rounded and normal and human. I knew that because I’d had them since I was a kid. These were… These were…

“Fae,” Ciara whispered, her eyes growing large as she took a step away from me like I was a threat. “You’re a fae.”

I’d spent the last few weeks facing the possibility that Lach was right, that there was a glamour on my ring, and that everything I thought I knew about my existence might prove to be a load of crap.

And all that had in no way prepared me for the moment when said load of crap hit the fan.

She continued to back away from me like I was a ghost—not her friend, not her future sister-in-law, not me. I pushed past her, rushing to the mirror hung over the sink.

A stranger stared back at me. I had to coach myself to breathe as I took in my own reflection. But I was in there, hiding behind sharper cheekbones and a nose that tipped a little more up than the one I’d been blowing my entire life. Now my skin glowed with that faint, ethereal light that I’d been glamoured to exude when by Lach’s side over the last month. My ears sloped and ended in elegant tips. But it was my eyes that snagged my attention and refused to let go. No longer simple, boring brown. Now they were endless and unyielding, as dark as the abismine stone in Ciara’s signet ring, save for piercing flecks of gold that shimmered with an unearthly radiance.

I needed proof that the reflection before me was flesh and blood. I raised a hand to touch my face and gasped. Gold ribbons twisted across the back of it, down around my wrist. A sob slipped from me as I saw the mating bond on my own skin for the first time. I stared for a moment, startling when a line of reddish-brown Theban flashed over my fingers and disappeared. Not just the mark of the mating bond, but also…