Page 143 of Fallen Court

“If I do, you’ll take off these stupid gloves and untie me?” Her hands clenched open and shut as if she were bothered more by the presence of the former than the bindings.

Ropes were nothing to a witch, but gloves? Even when worn by choice, as many vampires and members of her kind still did, it was said to be like having an itch that could never quite be scratched. They weren’t enough to fully stifle her magic, which was why she was tied up. “I will.”

“I don’t know why I would trust you,” she muttered.

“I like to think it’s because you don’t have a choice.” I moved the cup to her mouth once more. “Now drink.”

She took a grudging sip, gagging a bit as she swallowed. The burn of the Scotch made the bitter mix of yarrow and hedgethorne easier to swallow—and hid the veritum I’d added to ensure she told me the truth. She coughed. “Geez, do you have anything stronger?”

“A bullet,” I said with a smile. “But I’d rather it didn’t come to that.”

Her nostrils flared. “I brought you information. I helped you. I should have known better than to believe Romy.”

Curiosity got the better of me. “Romy?”

“She vouched for you.” Willow shook her head, disgust evident on her face.

That was surprising. “I can’t allow you to repeat your theories to other people. We can’t afford for the bona fides spell to fall.”

“You can’t afford for it to fall,” she corrected me. “How does it feel to hide behind someone else’s magic to save your own skin?”

“Careful,” I warned her. “I haven’t untied you yet. And this is about more than protecting me. There are threats outside New Orleans.”

“I know that.” She tilted her head, a strand of platinum falling across her face. She puffed at it, trying to get it out of her eyes.

I reached over and pushed it away. “You know nothing.”

“Is that so?” She raised one brow. “Try me.”

But I didn’t care about more of her theories. I wanted to know about her actions. Particularly the one she’d confessed to before losing consciousness on my office floor. “Why did you have a spell on Cate? What kind of spell was it?”

“Untie me,” she said through gritted teeth, wiggling her hands like she could force herself free.

“I’d rather wait a few more minutes.” I was clocking the passing time on my Rolex.

She groaned and slumped against her restraints. “It was a protection spell.”

That wasn’t the answer I’d been expecting.

“Why were you protecting her?”

Willow glared up at me. “You know why.”

My own words turned back on me, the implication just as clear but for entirely different reasons. “Did…Cate tell you?”

“She told me the ring was stuck and she needed help breaking the spell to get it off.” Willow shrugged. “But I’m bright and I read, so I figured shit out.”

“Kudos,” I said flatly. Clearly, Cate hadn’t updated her since last night. “She took off the ring. She isn’t fae.” Somewhere deep inside, that accusatory voice I always heard whispered again. The one that had warned me that it was what I wanted. That it had all been foolish desperation. So smug that it had been right and I had been wrong.

But Willow snorted, allowing her head to hang for a moment as she chuckled to herself. “What do you think I was protecting her from? She wasn’t ready. That’s why the ring wouldn’t come off. That part of its spell was basic magic. All she had to do was decide she wanted to know the truth.”

For a moment, I could only stare. “You…lied to her.”

“I redirected her,” she said carefully. Her muscles twitched a little, a sign that the herbs were doing their job. When Cate found out, any trust she had built with the witch would be destroyed.

My phone rang, but I ignored it.

“You going to get that?” Willow asked, shooting an irritated look at my pocket. “Roark went to check on Cate, didn’t he?”