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Each obstacle cost us ground.

The sky flashed crimson once again, and I spotted Hartley between two hedges as he limped through a narrow opening in the leaves.

By the time we reached it, the branches had fallen back into place.

Cora pushed aside the hedge, revealing a path scarcely wide enough for one person. Unlike every other lane in Les Jardins de Minuit, it held no flowers, music, or colored lights. Another firework burst overhead, and the light illuminated the hidden path and Hartley’s face.

He wasn’t running. He was watching us. Then he touched two fingers to the center of his chest, exactly where a Devouring medallion would rest, and disappeared into the darkness.

Cora drew her wand. “He wants us to follow.”

I pulled the hedge wider for her. Behind us, the gardens erupted in applause.

“That’s exactly what I was hoping for.”

Chapter 38

Égarée

CORA

As I was squeezing through the hedges, I wondered why Hartley wanted us to follow him. Perhaps he wanted to sell us information. I didn’t doubt that his loyalty was for sale, and he knew Yves had the money and power to keep him from a debtor’s prison, or worse.

Once we both made it to the other side, the hedge rows jumped aside, opening into a circular clearing where we found Hartley.

The con artist was lounging at a card table with his bad leg propped on a wooden crate of fireworks. For a week, I’d imagined having this conversation with him. Hartley’s lies had made me question whether Mama’s ghost could do more than haunt me.

Could she speak to the living? Had she arranged for Hartley to be at Widow Martell’s before I arrived?

I needed to know if she had told him to be there. If she’d orchestrated our meeting for her revenge. Because if she had, I was going to bind her spirit to the Underworld so she’d never be able to return to the land of the living ever again. Whether she’d helped me during the charging ritual or not.

Hartley smiled as we entered. “My, my. Just look at you two.”

I stopped several paces from the table, hands resting on my hips. Yves came to stand beside me.

Hartley’s muddy eyes skimmed over Yves’s false face before returning to me. “It’s good to see you again, Red. Or should I say, Lady Companion to the little heir of Valemer?”

I tore off the black mask and threw in on the ground. “How did you recognize me?”

He pulled his Devouring medallion from under his shirt. “Your glamour slid right off. Can’t use dark magick against this, remember?”

I jabbed my wand in his direction. “You should tell that to the two witches Lou sent after me.”

Hartley just shrugged. “Good riddance,” he said. “Never liked those two anyway.”

A growl rolled through Yves’s chest, and I set my hand on his shoulder. “Patience. We need him alive so he can answer our questions.”

“Our questions, is it?” Hartley glanced from Yves to me. “You sure moved on fast, Red. Judging by that big ring tied to your finger. Left ol’ Hartley behind to shack up with the Duke of Valemer himself.”

He gave a bitter laugh, and his expression darkened.

“Vampires get whatever they want, I suppose. Mates. Consorts. Their pick of women, married or otherwise. A big, fat castle and sacks of taxpayer gold.” His gaze traveled deliberately down my body. “I’m sure the Duke takes good care of you, if that dress is any indication.” He dared to run a tongue over his lips. “Take it from me, Red. You don’t need all that expensive fabric. I preferred you the way Damien made you. Naked.”

Fury climbed up my throat, and a spark flickered from the tip of my wand.

In the span of a blink, Yves had kicked the chair out from underneath Hartley and lifted him by the throat. The tips of his boots trying to find purchase on the ground.

“You should be very careful with your next sentence,” he growled, “or I’ll start with your good leg before moving to your windpipe.”