“That doesn’t change the fact that his last sight in this world was me, casting the spell that ended him.”
Beatrix sighed. “No. It does not. But you are older and wiser now, witch. Ten years have passed, and you understand what you did wrong. We have been over this time and time again. If you tried the same spell today, it would not have the same effects.”
“Bollocks. If I never cast a spell again, it will be too soon. I’ve had to use my magic twice since I got here, and each time…could have killed so many.” Unable to sit still any longer, Killian dropped to his knees by the mini-bar and pulled out two tiny bottles of scotch.
Downing one after the other in a single swallow, he let the burn settle down his throat. His fingers traced the lines of the brand, and a powerful ache started deep in his core. “What do I do about this fecking curse?”
“Do you remember the words?”
“I won’t repeat it all, but the punchline was this: I damn you to your darkest fear. I bind you to dread’s cold embrace. Until your truth you boldly face,” Killian said.
Beatrix huffed out a wry laugh. “Fitting, I suppose. You must face your darkest fear. Overcome it. I am assuming you do not need me to tell you what that is.”
Killian groaned. “I have to confront Jezebel. Use my magic. Willingly. And risk another’s death.”
“Yes. I cannot help you with this, Killian. It is something you must do alone. I do hope you will not destroy all of New Orleans while you are at it.”
As do I, Killian thought as he ended the call. He was on his own.
MADDOX
Azrael returned him to the precise location he’d left from. The bed he’d shared with Killian. Except, it was empty.
Fuck. He’d been gone eight hours. Maddox knew time in the celestial realm went slower than that on earth. But he hadn’t expected a ten-minute conversation to take eight earth hours. What had Killian thought? That he’d left? For good?
The clothing bags had been rifled through, and a sandwich wrapper lingered in the trash can. On the bedside table, Maddox found a note.
Maddox, I know what I have to do. Facing Jezebel is the only way to break my curse. Don’t try to find me. If I live through the next few hours, I’ll return. If not, I doubt I will ever see the celestial realm. Not after what I’ve done. The short time we had here, in this room...I will hold onto those memories. I wish we’d had more time. -Killian
“Shit, shit, shit.” Maddox got dressed as quickly as he could, then ran downstairs, hoping to find Frank. The older gentleman sat at the front desk with a crossword puzzle in front of him.
“So there y’are,” Frank said, a hint of judgement in his scratchy voice. “That man of yours brought down the sammich I got for you and said he wasn’t sure if you were coming back. The two of you have a fight or something?”
“No.” Maddox rubbed the back of his neck. “I...needed some air and got lost. I don’t know this city. Did Killian say where he was going?”
“Nope. Just thanked me for dropping off the clothes and the sammich, said you wouldn’t be needing this one, and that he hoped I had a good day.” Frank set his pen down and leaned forward. “You going after him?”
“Yes. But I don’t know where he went. I need to get to Bourbon Street. Can you point me in the right direction?”
“You’ll need to get a cab, son.” Frank reached for the telephone, but Maddox laid a hand on his wrist.
“I don’t. Just...point me in the right direction.” There was no way Maddox was going to wait for a cab. Not when he could fly across the city in minutes. Assuming Azrael hadn’t taken away all of his powers.
Frank shrugged. “Out the door, head left. Bourbon Street is due east of here.” He pointed behind him. “That way.”
“Thank you, Frank. We’ll be back.” Maddox pushed through the door, keeping his voice low. “I hope.”
TEN MINUTES LATER, he landed gently in an alley two blocks from Bourbon Street. He had to find the House of Voodoo and Sin’s friend Mist. If he were going to help Killian, he needed backup.
The House of Voodoo, despite the name, was bright inside. Every single inch of free space on the walls was taken up by oddities. Everything from actual chicken bones to rubber masks of pig heads with long horns. Dozens of tourists whispered and pointed as they wove through the shop, and the man behind the counter explained the use of a small, strange-looking broom in cleansing rituals.
The sun had set less than half an hour ago. Would this Mist be here yet? Making his way to the back of the shop, Maddox pushed through a black, beaded curtain.
“Are you here for a reading?” The woman sounded young. No more than twenty-five, and as Maddox’s eyes adjusted to the dim light, he took in her pale skin, the stillness to her limbs, and her amber eyes.
“That depends. Would you know where I can find Mist?” Keeping his gaze locked on the petite vampire, he reached out with his unique gifts so no one else coming in the room would see what he was about to do.
“I do not know that name,” she said, but the hitch in her voice belied her words.
