An understandingpasses between Damien and Morpheus, and they drift off toward an unmarked door in the wall.
“Listen to me carefully,” Maeve says in a voice that can only be described as no-nonsense. She’s speaking to me like I speak to the children in my class. “I’m not sure what is going on between you and the advocate?—”
“Damien.”
She scoffs. “Fine. You andDamien, but you need to cut it out, El. I mean it. He’s a monster, akiller. Do not become involved with him. Tell me you haven’t… done anything with him.”
My cheeks blaze. “Uh, not really.”
“Is that why you’re blushing like you’re fifteen, and your crush just noticed you for the first time? Wicked hell, the way he looked at you! I haven’t seen that much lust in a creature’s eyes in a long time, Eloise. I have half a mind to take the candle from you right now.”
The notion sends a sharp pang through my heart. “Please don’t. We’re so close to nailing Tony.”
She gives me a sideways look. “Seems like Tony’s not the only one getting nailed.”
“Maeve!” My mouth gapes.
She sighs. “Never mind. Tell me what you found out.”
I tell her about Gold Weaver, the warehouse, and what the man revealed to us about what went on there. “He has a side hustle, one he hasn’t disclosed to me or either legal team.”
“I’ll get my financial team on it. Maybe there’s something in the accounts they’ve missed,” she says. “And I’ll trust you to keep the candle because if I take it now, I’m not sure what the advocate will do toyou?—”
“He wouldn’t hurt me?—”
“Oh, my goddess. Wake the hell up!” Maeve’s pupils constrict, purple sparks igniting in their depths. “He’s not a dog or a security guard. Damien is a shade, the most lethal creature ever drawn into this realm. He’s a monster. A killer. My ancestor conjured him here from a deadly world of darkness, and he murdered her in cold blood before my coven could bind him to the candle. You can’t trust him. Not ever.”
I stare down at my tangled fingers on the table. “The candle is almost burned through the base. What happens when the wick runs out?”
“That won’t happen.”
“What do you mean?”
She squeezes my hand. “Later. Damien is currently in a world of shit, and since you still need him, you have to get him out of it.”
“Wait, what?” I point a thumb in the direction the two creatures went. “Was that because of me?”
“Non-magical guests are prohibited in Bad Witches Club. He took a huge risk bringing you here. Risked your life and his.” She shakes her head. “He should have tried harder to talk you out of it.”
“What’s the punishment for bringing a human into a place like this?”
“Morpheus will decide, but it could be anything from a pint of blood to a week chained inside a coffin. Whatever it is, it won’t be pleasant and could put a wrinkle in our plans to stop Tony.”
“Wrinkle in our plans?” I remove my sunglasses, absolutely gobsmacked. I’m far more concerned about Damien being locked in a coffin and starved than my problems at the moment. “We’ve got to help him. This wasn’t his fault.”
“We will, okay? All I need you to do is remove yourjacket. That dress is backless underneath, right? I remember you showing it to me a few years ago.”
“Yeah, but why would that?—”
“Your tattoo. Trust me. When they come back here, show Morpheus your tattoo.”
“Why?” I hate this. It feels like I’m playing a game, and I’m the only one who doesn’t know the rules. But the door opens, and Damien and Morpheus stride toward our table. Maeve nods at me, and I stand, removing my jacket. With my back facing them, I can’t see their reaction, but Maeve shoots me one of her secret smiles. I glance over my shoulder to find the two directly behind me.
“Damien, why didn’t you explain that your guest was a Harcourt?”
Damien’s expression is unreadable. “My apologies, Morpheus. I wasn’t sure the young lady was ready to disclose her identity.” His attention skirts to Maeve, who shrugs.
“You look just like your mother.” Morpheus places a hand over his heart. “We were all sorry to hear what happened to her. I do hope you’ll visit us again.” He bows, then retreats, leaving me gaping.
