Page 156 of Fallen Court

“I never had a sister,” I whispered as I tied off the makeshift tourniquet. “If I had, I would have wanted her to be like you.”

“Cate, I—”

Tears spilled onto my cheeks, and I blinked, trying to hide them. “Whatever this is about, it’s linked to the bona fides. You heard her. One more death, and the spell comes down. And when that happens…” I choked, trying to hold back a sob as the full weight of what that meant hit me. “The Wild Hunt will execute Lach.”

“Lach is a tough bastard,” Ciara said through gritted teeth, her own tears beginning to stream down her face. “He won’t go down without a fight.”

But he had sent me away the night he’d been branded for death, sent me toward safety, because he knew what was coming for him. He’d spent the last few weeks forcing Ciara to prepare to take his place.

He knew the clock was ticking. I felt it every time he kissed me, felt it when his body claimed mine. The desperation and grief and acceptance of a man facing his own death. And when he realized why the creatures had been killed, why his friend had died…

He might not fight at all.

“The bona fides bought us time.” I laced my bloody hands with hers. “I can never thank you enough for that, for giving us a chance to really fall in love with each other, to get to know each other, to see what the future might have been like, but…”

“You can’t give up.” She was sobbing now. The sound of it pulled at the splintering fragments of my heart. I wouldn’t have chosen to end it like this, but if I had to, if I could do one more good thing for our family, what more could I ask?

I shook my head, smiling through my own tears. “I don’t want to live without him. I never felt like I belonged in my own world or your world. I just belonged with him.”

Ciara swallowed. “I can’t let you do this. If you’re gone, he won’t even try. This is about more than you and more than me. Whatever Baptiste is after, she’s not going to stop when the wards fail. So fuck you for even asking me, because I will never allow my court to fall. Never again.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the lock on the freezer silenced me. I angled my body in front of Ciara as Baptiste stepped inside, my hands still covering her wound.

“Isn’t this sweet?” Baptiste crooned. “Look at you playing doctor.” She waved the gun. “Unfortunately, the game is over.”

“You don’t want to kill her. You want—” My voice cut off even as my mouth continued to move. I grabbed my throat, eyes flashing to Ciara. My voice was gone like that night in the alley with the Redcaps. This time stolen by my friend. Her smile was sad, but she didn’t turn away as she used whatever lingering magic she had to keep me silent.

To save me.

“Help her up,” Baptiste ordered me. “The others will be joining us soon.”

She held the gun on us as I bent and helped Ciara to her feet. The fae princess slung an arm around my shoulder, shrieking as she tried to put weight on her leg. I heaved her higher, and she moaned.

“Not much longer,” Baptiste said, “and then you’ll be put out of your misery. Well, you will be. Cate and I have unfinished business.”

She grinned as I guided Ciara into the kitchen, its warmth prickling my chilled skin. We were running out of time. I slipped my hand into Ciara’s pocket, my fingers closing over the effigy.

“I shouldn’t shoot you,” Baptiste said to her. Ciara glared daggers at her, and she laughed. “In the fridge, I mean. That would be a mess, and I would ruin half the vegetables. It will be much easier to clean up out here.”

I tried to say something—tried to raise the effigy to show her—but whatever magic was tied to the effigy wouldn’t let me so much as lift a finger, as if it could sense the danger I was in and was shielding me from it. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t act. My hands were tied just like the stupid fucking doll.

Except they weren’t, and if I could unravel it, she would see. Ciara didn’t have enough magic to glamour me if the effigy failed. Not if she couldn’t nip.

“Keep her on her feet,” Baptiste demanded.

I forced a nod, keeping one hand around Ciara, the other clenching the effigy behind my back. I fingered the thread, trying to find a loose end. Difficult with only one hand, but not impossible. My thumb snagged it, and I began to work, trying to get the strand free. One end slipped out like a broken thread in a hem, and something burned in my throat. I shimmied the doll, pinching the loose bit between my thumb and index finger. I couldn’t risk speaking, even if Ciara didn’t realize what I was up to. The moment I spoke, she would double her efforts. She was stubborn like that. I loved her for it. That tenacity was why she needed to walk out of here. She could unite the fae willing to listen. The Otherworld needed her.

Conversation echoed from the dining room, and I whirled toward it as Baptiste’s face lit up. “They’ve arrived.” The smile she leveled at me was so terrifying, my thumb slipped on the tiny bit of thread. “I’ve been looking forward to this moment.”

Two men strode into the kitchen. I recognized one from Halloween: the witch from the club.

“I guess I’m getting another shot at the dance,” he crowed.

But I wasn’t paying attention. My eyes were on his companion.

Dante.

The vampire cast an apologetic look in my direction and turned away. Rage burned in my throat. My brother had always had bad taste in friends. Apparently, near-death experiences had not cured him of the condition.