Wickett’s response was cruel. “The sprite needs a nap. Anyone else?” Back to that cold exterior that was expected of him, and for once, I was glad it was back. He’d make my job so much easier, just by being a dick.
Pip turned scarlet. “N-no, I’m coming. Sorry, sir.”
“You don’t have to call him sir,” Lucette interjected. “He’s not in charge of us.”
“Someone should be,” Wickett responded.
Lucette rose to the challenge, finally showing a bit more grit. “I’d vote for anyone but you at this point, on principle.”
His eyes narrowed. He needed the hunt as much as some needed air to breathe. It was his nature, and Lucette was now standing in his way. “Like the witch?”
“I’d dance naked under a full moon in a circle of strange stones before I took orders from someone who barks at a sprite and makes her feel less than she’s worth. Do you also punch babies?”
Pip’s wings perked up slightly.
“That goes for me too,” Calder said, moving to my side.
“This is exactly why witches die—insubordination. You can either come with or stay here arguing about hurt feelings while a Fury-killer you’re all bound to hunt escapes. Your choice.”
Lucette shifted her weight, ready to follow despite her anger simply because it seemed like Wickett had a plan. Even Pip fluttered her wings in preparation.
I swallowed my fear as I stepped forward. “We don’t need your magic to find her home. We already know where Vitoria lives.”
Wickett went perfectly still. “What did you say?”
I met his pale eyes without flinching, aware that every word now reshaped everything.
“She lives with us. Has for three years.”
Chapter 19
Syneca
To Honor The Dead: Light no candles in their dwelling. Disturb no books upon their shelves. Some knowledge dies with its keeper for good reason.
The silence after my revelation stretched taut as a bowstring. Rain streamed down Wickett’s face as he slowly approached, each movement controlled fury. He was terrifying, but I was clever. Fear was his weapon. Foresight was mine. That made me ready.
“You’ve been harboring the Phoenix? For three years?” he practically growled.
“Say that again.” Lucette’s voice cut through the rain. She hadn’t moved, but something in her stillness made everyone stop. “You lived with her? And we’re supposed to believe you never knew?”
“We didn’t know she was the Phoenix,” I said firmly, meeting her green eyes. She had every right to her suspicion. I never expected them to believe the innocence of a witch out of the gate.“She was just Vitoria. Another witch trying to survive in a city that hates our kind.”
“Just Vitoria.” She took a step closer also, but I didn’t flinch, hardly registered the fire building in my veins. “I’ve heard the Mistress of Blades might know something of my brother’s death. But now that she’s... gone—who should I go to for answers?” She paused, drawing a blade from her thigh. “You?”
I’d been playing this game my entire life: sorting out lies and truths strategically placed on a battlefield. I could feel Wickett’s gaze burn into me, assessing, weighing.
Let him watch. Let him think he can intimidate me.
It wouldn’t last long. I didn’t step back from the accusation; I stepped into it, letting the rain soak my hood as I lied. “If you want real answers, you start with the way a killer works. Eda Mire didn’t take death work. Ever.”
People knew the whispers about Eda Mire, but whispers didn’t make proof. The ones who knew would be buried before they breathed a word, and the ones who only guessed couldn’t stake a life on rumor. That silence was her strongest ward, and I was banking on it to hold.
Lucette’s mouth pressed into a hard line, her knife held low, the posture of someone ready to strike but unwilling to be the first to move.
“She sold tools,” I said, forcing myself to lay it bare. “Wards. Warnings. Ways out. If someone came in asking for a kill, she marked their name down and shut the door on them forever.”
I tipped my forehead toward the dim shop crouched behind us, shadows clinging to its windows. “There’s a ledger under the counter. Black book, copper clasp. The ’refused’ marks are a ring of red she inks around the name. Ask anyone in the Crook, they’ll tell you the same.”
