“A death curse,” Amelia said grimly. “The Rose Protocol.”
His tattoo. His fucking tattoo. I swallowed hard, my mind spinning faster and faster.
Death curse.
“Curse witches use emotion to cast, like channeling your own hopes and fears, converting that to adrenaline, and then powering it that way. The mark of her curse looks like a tattoo on the skin. Death curses are highly illegal, but since he’s not dead yet, no one has come after Olivia and Henrik. Guaranteed Thorin has a plan in place to protect them. Olivia could never have pulled off a timed death curse like this, something so heinous, on her own. But Henrik used his technomancy to transfer the curse to binary—a code laid out into the tattoo on his skin that’s tied to a countdown on his computer.”
The one on the screen in the locked room.
The truth socked me in the gut. It had been around me this whole while, the realization that Cillian was running out of time.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“There has to be some way around it, though, right? Isn’t there some sort of exchange in casting curses, some energy needed? Witches can’t go around dropping death curses with no penalties, no loopholes,” I said. I was certain I’d learned about curses years ago in a few of my books on monsterkind, and therewere stipulations for casting certain types without alerting the authorities. Plus, the casting of said curses cost the user as well—but maybe Olivia’s connection to him had allowed her to cast in the first place. We whizzed through the city at top speed, narrowly zipping through yellow lights and swerving around car after car.
“Cillian had to fall in love and be loved in return,” Amelia said, a twist of bitterness in her tone. “Something Olivia believed to be impossible. I told you, us curse witches have a penchant for the dramatic.”
My stomach bottomed out.
Amelia’s gaze met mine through the rearview mirror. The understanding there smashed into me. She’d known I was the key to Cillian’s continued existence, yet she’d let me leave today without saying a word.
Cillian had let me leave, knowing I carried his last chance of survival with me.
Oh god.
A sob made my throat spasm. “There’s still time, isn’t there?”
“Not much,” she murmured. “The clock is counting down to the end tonight.”
“No.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, my shoulders shaking.
We needed to get to him. We needed to get to the Spires.
“If I’d known, I never would’ve…” I gasped out.
“You had to be free to make the choice,” Theo said beside me. “None of us fault you for leaving.”
“Fat lot of good that did,” I muttered darkly. Silence rang through the car. Amelia had been on the phone, which meant she’d heard everything. She knew of my father’s betrayal, and of his death.
“All we can do is try to get to him now,” Amelia said. “Before the vultures pick him apart.”
My throat tightened. “Thorin?”
“No. Olivia,” Theo said. “She called to set up one more meeting. They’ve been trying to convince him to sign the company over to them in exchange for lifting the curse. Cillian has refused. He’s a stubborn shit.”
“Money’s not worth his life,” I spat back. “Why not just hand it over?”
“Because the good he does for all of us is worth protecting.” Amelia’s voice rang out harsh and clear.
Fuck. She was right. The system he’d created here to protect monsters in need, everything he’d built—in Thorin’s hands, it would crumple to dust. The reality of that socked me in the gut.
Yet a deeply selfish part of me didn’t care.
I wanted him.
No one else. Just him.
“We need to get to Cillian.” My heart thundered, like it was about to march right out of my chest.
