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When he opened his eyes, the darkness in his pupils seemed to swallow the basement light. “This mirror has come into contact with a Divine Curse. The Curse of the Tower.”

Tanvi stood up so fast her wooden chair scraped violently against the concrete. “Osric possessed an artifact that touched Babel?”

Seraphel leaned over the table and peered at the artifacts, his dark brows drawing together. “This pursuit of Heartbreak may be a test. It would make sense to start with the easier subject and then, if successful, move on to more complicated targets.”

“Should I be offended?” Tristan scowled at Seraphel.

“Heartbreak is a basic emotion. Not as complicated as God's condemnation of Sodom and Gomorrah, for example.”

“I was wondering about that,” I said. “God didn't actually curse those cities. He destroyed them.”

Seraphel slid his gaze to me. “Yes, I know.”

I snorted. Fair enough, I hadn't actually asked a question.

“A witch cursing their neighbor with bad luck is not the same as what we hold,” Tristan explained. “Our Curses are entities born of extreme emotion and belief, not literal curses spoken into existence, with the exception of a few Divine Curses. As the grief of humans created Heartbreak, God's fury created the Curse of Sodom and Gomorrah. Seraphel thinks his Curse is more complicated because it involved an angelic attack. I disagree.”

Seraphel rolled his eyes.

“So, there are some Curses that were born of literal curses, but most are the result of emotion and belief?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“That's confusing.”

“Think of Curse more as a title than a definition,” Tristan said.

“Not to be rude.” I looked at Seraphel. “But what are you pulled toward? Those cities are gone.”

Bart snickered. “I'll tell you what—”

“I am drawn to Inhospitality, pride, and sexual immortality.” Seraphel shot a glare at Bart.

“People must have the potential for all three for you to be pulled to them?” I asked.

“Yes. I have a multi-faceted Curse. That is why I think my Curse is complicated, not the angel thing.” He met Tristan's gaze.

Tristan inclined his head. “I concede.”

“For fuck's sake, in trying to prove your point, you've lost your point, you windbag! Get back to what you were saying about the artifacts.” Bart winced in pain before he continued. “You think this isn't about Tristan at all, but all of us?”

Seraphel straightened to glare at Bart. “Yes.”

“Oh, don't be an fearmonger.” Alistair flung out a hand. “Those two men can't possibly be planning to hunt down all of us and put our Curses into new bodies. That's preposterous. It would take forever.”

“I think you're both right.” I looked from Alistair to Seraphel. “Fabian spent centuries perfecting the extraction ritual because he wanted to free Tristan. It's his goal. But Osric doesn't care about Tristan or Fabian's guilt. So why help Fabian? Could it be his fascination for Curses? Sure, maybe he just wants to meet a Curse. Or, maybe he wants to collect them. If they can force Heartbreak out of Tristan and successfully anchor it in me without killing either of us, I don't think Osric will stop. Maybe Fabian will, but not Osric.”

“Precisely.” Seraphel motioned at me.

“But it would take forever to extract all the Curses, because not only would they have to find the Curses, but they'd also have to find people who love the Curses. That's the key, right? So, no, I don't think Osric's plan is to do this to all of you.” I held up a hand to stop Seraphel from speaking. “But he might want a collection of three that he could study—one of each type. He could keep them as prisoners and conduct experiments on them. I mean, think about it. Someone obsessed with horses isn't just going to read about them. They'll do everything they can to own one.”

Alistair set his hands on the edge of the table, his colorful vintage waistcoat clashing with the grim gray of the cellar. “I still think they want us as weapons. If they put a Curse in a weak body, they could use it to rule countries.”

“They need the names of our Curses for that too,” Tristan said.

“They got yours easily enough,” Alistair shot back.

“Only because they knew where to look.” Tristan shook his head as he looked at the Conclave members. “You want to talk about something preposterous? It's a group of Curses afraid of two witches. We are more powerful than them, and we know who they are. If we can find Osric's artifacts, we can find them. They should be scared of us, not the other way around.” Tristan shifted his gaze to me. “I was going to hunt them the other night, but Destiny stopped me. She was right. I shouldn't be going after them alone.” He looked at Seraphel. “All of you should be going with me.”