“I’m sorry sir. It isn’t safe here. You must leave the room.” The doctor placed a gentle hand on his elbow. “She’s dying.”
A painful lump formed in Silas’s throat and his next words came out as unintelligible squeaks. “No. She can’t be.”
“She is dying.” The doctor touched his elbow. “Celestial fae, like the stars they are from, do not go gently.”
“Let me say good-bye.” Silas’s shoulders slumped.
“Quickly.”
Silas approached Soleil. He tried to take her hand but the skin of her extremities had turned black and burned as if liquid magma surged beneath her skin. “I wanted things to be different,” he said. “I loved you once. You didn’t deserve this.”
Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, but he did not cry, couldn’t, whether by the heat in the room or his pride. He leaned over and pressed his lips to hers.
The kiss burned. Even though he did it quickly, only a peck, he might as well have kissed a hot iron.
“You must leave, Mr. Flynn.” The blue doctor tugged at his hand. “We have to seal the door!” His small size was no match for Silas’s stature or strength, but it didn’t matter. Silas followed willingly, the heat driving him from the room.
Once he was in the hall, the blue doctor closed the glass door and turned a giant wheel, steam venting above their heads. There was a suctioning sound, and a light above the door blinked from red to green.
“Vacuum seal is complete, doctor,” a bright pink nurse said.
Through the glass, Silas watched as fiery black magma swallowed Soleil’s face and then her hands. The blanket over her body burst into flames and her flesh expanded, her body inflating like a balloon. The bed incinerated but her body did not fall. It hovered like a planet at the center of a void. Anything that resembled the Soleil Silas had known was gone, replaced by a sphere of liquid fire. What was left of her exploded, pushing out against the glass. The containment gave a menacing groan. Red light and bits of rock tapped the windows like storming hail, then collapsed in on itself, compressing into something dark and dense and completely devoid of life.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” the doctor said, avoiding eye contact as he hurried toward his next patient.
Silas wiped under his eyes and searched the gathered crowd for Meredith, but she was gone. His phone rang.
“Is it true?” Grateful asked.
“Yes. She’s dead.”
“We’ve got to get the book.”
Silas turned in a circle, searching the crowd. No Meredith. “I’ll meet you at the bordello.”
As soon asSilas saw the door of Maison des Étoilles hanging open, he knew something was way off. The door was never left open, even in perfect weather. Breaking into a run, he climbed the steps to the bordello. There was no one at the reception desk, but as he passed into the hall, he heard a moan. Backing up, he crept toward the sound and found Astrial collapsed behind the desk, a bloody gash near her temple.
“Astrial!” Silas knelt beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder.
Her eyes fluttered. “I’m okay. By the goddess, Silas, something is wrong with Soleil.”
He paused. Of course there was something wrong with Soleil. She was dead. But he couldn’t bring himself to say so. Instead, he stared blankly at the celestial fae.
“She came through the door a few minutes ago and pushed me so hard I banged my head on the corner of the desk. It happened so fast. She seemed really angry. Do you know what happened?”
Silas stiffened, his jaw tightening to the point of pain. “Soleil was here?”
“Is here, I think. She pushed me down and stormed to her room.”
Helping her to a seated position, Silas stood and turned toward Soleil’s room. “Wait here,” he said to her. He strode forward, drawing his gun. Soleil’s door was closed, but light filtered through the crack. A shadow passed. Someone was in there.
Silently, he released a slow, even breath through pursed lips and reached for the doorknob, Glock steady in his right hand. With a kick, he flung the door open, ready for anything.
“Silas, thank the goddess you’re here.” Meredith stood by a gaping hole in the marble floor. An empty hole. “There’s something we need to talk about. Look at this.” She pointed toward a puddle of goo, like a smear of blood-tinged petroleum jelly, on the floor near her feet.
“What are you doing here?” Silas demanded.
“Someone stole the book. We have to figure out who—”
