I sit on the edge of the bed, but only a few seconds later, I hear the slightest noise coming from the front of the house. Jumping up, I rush down the hall, followed by Atlas’s heavy footfalls, and fly down the stairs. I swing the front door open, ready to deal with whatever’s on the other side, but damn, this is not what I was expecting.
“Drax!” Atlas rushes forward. “Mac. Guys. You came.”
Cassius nods, but he has his arms folded across his chest. “We can’t get to you. We made a bunch of noise hoping you’d hear us somehow.”
“How did you find us?” Atlas asks.
“We got ourselves to New Orleans,” Roman says. “And, like, an hour ago, we were hit with the strongest feeling from you. Like a damn tidal wave.”
Atlas and I exchange glances as his cheeks actually turn pink.
“So, we are in New Orleans?” I ask.
“You sure are,” Mac says. “Weird location choice though. Must be pretty rough in there.”
I step forward, trying to lean out and see a bit, but I can’t. “Is there a big wood sign in the yard that says ‘Delaport Estate’?”
“Yep.” Drax nods. “But it’s burned to a crisp. There’s no roof, barely any walls.”
“I knew it. This is all an illusion.”
“That’s not what it looks like to you guys?” Cassius asks.
“No. First it was a jail and now it’s…” Atlas glances at me. “Well, it’s Rune’s childhood home fully restored.”
“Whoa,” Mac says. “Who’s powerful enough to do that?”
“I think, as much as I hate to admit this, it’s my sister.”
“Dude,” Drax whispers.
“Here’s the problem,” Roman says. “You can’t get yourselves out and we can’t get in.”
Atlas grabs my wrist. “What about the black magic witches who helped me before? Do you think they’d be willing to help?”
I rub my forehead with my free hand. “They might be our only option.”
“Guys.” Atlas steps forward. “In the quarter, there’s a group of witches who might be powerful enough to break this spell. They hang out behind Cemetery One. Avoid the Ninth Ward witches.”
“We’re on it,” Cassius says. “Hang tight. We’ll be back as soon as possible.”
“We don’t have a choice.” I let out a humorless chuckle.
Drax presses against the spell, and I can feel the vibrations not only in the air but on a deep, biological level, confirming mysuspicion that the magic is ancestral. “We’ll get you guys out. Don’t worry.”
The sweet demon manages to melt my icy exterior. “Thank you.” It’s soft, but I said it.
He nods, smiling, then we watch them run down the sidewalk until they’re nothing but distant blurs.
“You were right. They kept looking for you.”
“For us,” Atlas says. “Of course they did.” He cups my face. “We leave together or not at all.”
“You might be too good for this world, gargoyle. Certainly too good for me.”
“How can that be true if we’re fated? And we obviously are. I was made for you, or you for me.”
“That’s a very sobering thought. I assumed I’d spend the rest of my life alone. It’s easier that way.”
