“That doesn’t lower the danger level!”
“Piper, it might be the only way to activate it.”
I force a breathe in, releasing it in a whoosh. “You felt Slade’s warning. He nearly growled when I picked it up.”
Rhea scoffs. “Please. Demons say ‘don’t’ like it’s punctuation.” She deepens her voice. “‘Don’t touch that.’ ‘Don’t go alone.’ ‘Don’t summon ancient powers by accident.’” She flicks her wrist. “And yet here we are—summoning demons and unraveling curses like it’s Tuesday.”
“I hate everything you’re saying right now,” I growl.
“You love it.”
“I absolutelydo not.”
She takes a smug sip of her latte. “Your demon babysitting Newt right now says otherwise.”
I groan into my hands. “Rhea. Slade made me promise that if YOU couldn’t help, I’d go to the Ninth Realm.”
Rhea spits her drink across the table. “THE WHAT?”
“The Ninth Realm.”
She coughs violently. “As in Lucifer’s Christmas Ball?!”
“Yes.”
“PIPER LEIGH!”
“I KNOW.”
“PIPER. LEIGH. BELLAMY,” she screeches, drawing nearly every eye in the coffee shop. Then slaps the table, scandalized. “Why would you agree to that?!”
“Because the Ninth Realm has the oldest archives in existence!” I hiss, waving frantically trying to get her to hush. “Slade said they might have what Veda erased!”
Rhea freezes. Then leans in very, very slowly. “You want the truth?”
I nod, throat tight.
“Then we’re way out of our depth.”
My blood goes cold. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” she whispers, eyes on the bell, “this is older than anything I’ve ever studied. Definitelyolder than our coven. Maybe older than Bellamy magic entirely.”
A quiet dread creeps under my skin.
Rhea inhales shakily. “Or, ya know. Maybe it’s harmless,” she says, sighing dramatically like she doesn't even believe herself. “Pipes… I can’t help you. Not fully. Not with this.” The words hit like a stone. I tighten my grip on the linen-wrapped bell.
Rhea reaches for my hands, squeezing gently. “But I can prepare you. And I can be at your back. No matter what you find.”
My vision blurs for a second—emotion, fear, the weight of five centuries pressing down on me.
“You have to go,” she whispers.
My throat tightens. “Slade will beimpossibleafter this.”
She snorts. “He was impossiblebeforethis.”
I close my eyes. The truth cracks out of me in one whispered breath, “I think he wantsmorethan the bond.”
