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“Uh, it scared me. I left work early and went straight to Tristan.”
“He scared you into running to Tristan. Like herding cattle.” Seraphel narrowed his eyes. “And the next day, the silver piece was stolen, most likely by Osric.”
“What happened before Osric appeared at the museum?” Cassian asked. “With you two, I mean.”
Tristan looked at me, frowned, and then answered, “We tried to destroy the silver piece.”
“And then?”
“It didn't work. I brought her home with me. We almost kissed, but I wanted her to think about what a relationship with me would mean before we started one. We ate dinner, and I drove her home. To her home.”
“Interesting,” Alistair murmured. “So, you were about to kiss, but stopped.”
“Severing or not, Osric needs them together,” Tanvi said. “That much is clear. Maybe we shouldn't assume it's an extraction.”
“He has Heartbreak's true name and knows how to use it,” Cassian said. “But it can't force a Severing, much less a full extraction.”
“We're missing something.” Alistair stood up and stepped off the dais to pace. “Two men hunt her. A man of science—”
“Osric.” Bart flapped his hand about.
“—and a man with a broken heart.” Alistair stopped and looked at Tristan. “One of your victims.”
“Not necessarily.” Tristan stiffened. “Not every broken heart is Heartbreak's fault.”
“It was significant enough for the seer to mention.”
“Witch or not, we're putting a lot of trust in a seer. They make their predictions vague so they'll fit whatever happens.”
Tristan turned to face the Conclave. “Let's simplify things and stick to facts we know to be true. Osric Taylor, a man known to be researching ways to remove a Curse from its vessel sent Destiny the reliquary, appeared at her lab, and the silver piece with my sigil and Curse's name on it were stolen the very same night. The next day, my Pull was toyed with, and Destiny eased my pain. Those are the facts. Now, what can we conclude based on those facts?”
“Osric is after us,” I said.
“Yes.” Tristan looked at me. “And?”
“He wants you two together,” Alistair added.
“That's an assumption, not a conclusion,” Seraphel said.
“Correct.” Tristan pointed at Seraphel. “But I think we can conclude that Osric took the silver piece, and if he took the silver piece, we can conclude he toyed with my Pull. So, Osric has my Curse's name and sigil, and he has proven ill intent with it. Now, with those conclusions, can we come up with a way he could use our love against my Curse?”
They all looked to Seraphel.
Seraphel stared at Tristan. “Only as leverage against you, not necessarily your Curse.”
I sat with the implication for a moment. “What would Osric force Tristan to do? He can't control Heartbreak, right?”
“No, Tristan can't force his Curse to do anything. Your role in this is unclear, Ms. Takeda, but you are integral to Osric's plans.”
“I need your help to protect her,” Tristan said. “At least until we know for certain who, if anyone, is working with Osric, why they're doing this, and how to stop them.”
The Conclave members inclined their heads. Their agreement, more than anything they'd said, told me exactly how much danger I was in.
Chapter Fourteen
The suite they gave us was on the third floor of the main building, at the end of the east wing. Done in a Neoclassical style, the main room had cream walls with gold wainscoting, velvet drapes in a deep slate blue, a fireplace, and 18th century furniture. A dining table stood near the window, with a mini fridge tucked under a sideboard on the right, and there were two bedrooms, across the main room from each other. In short, it was an upgrade from my apartment but a downgrade from Tristan's home.
Tristan took our bags to separate rooms. I stood in the middle of the main room, staring at the fireplace grate without seeing it, and thought about Mirana's words—love what cannot be loved. Was it Heartbreak? Was I destined to love Tristan and his Curse? No, she said it was how I saved myself. So, it wasn't destined. It was the opposite. What was the opposite of being destined for each other? Nothing. It's nothing.
