Not that he had much to begin with.
The strange energy that usually surrounds him, that predatory, ancient presence I’ve gotten used to sensing, feels flat somehow. Like the spark has gone out of it.
Did he drain himself healing Killian, even with my power?
Then again, he teleported the six of us, too. Even at a short distance, that’s a lot.
“Walk with me,” he says.
I don’t move.
“Please.”
The word sounds foreign coming from him. Like he’s not used to saying it.
I follow him not because I trust him, which I definitely fucking don’t, but because I need answers, and he’s the only one who has them.
The garden path winds through hedges and flower beds, eventually opening into a small labyrinth of carefully trimmed boxwood. I can picture Margot out here, silent as a mouse, with giant shears in her hands like some nineteenth-century automaton. Villeneuve moves through it without hesitation, clearly familiar with every turn.
“How is Killian?” he asks.
“His condition hasn’t changed.” I step over a root that’s pushed up through the gravel path. “Is that because of the stasis or the bite?”
“Both,” he answers. “The stasis is necessary so his body can allocate all its energy to fighting the virus. The less he moves, the more resources he has to combat the transformation.”
“Earlier, you said it was impossible to fight. That it wouldn’t matter.”
Villeneuve is quiet for a moment. “I may have been... premature in that assessment.”
I stop walking. “What?”
“There may be something,” he says carefully, turning to face me. “Not a cure, but a way to bind it.” He pauses. “I’ve been doing some research of my own.”
Is that why he looks so tired? Did he stay up all night reading too?
“The fact that Killian was bitten by a reanimated wolf may actually be a blessing in disguise,” he continues.
“A blessing? How?”
“Necromancy is a forbidden system of magic.” He stares into his coffee like it’s a scrying mirror. “That doesn’t stop peoplefrom practicing it, of course, but it does mean the information is harder to come by.” He reaches out to brush his fingers against a climbing rose, the petals deep red in the gray morning light. “I believe I may know someone who can help. There is a special arm of the Council devoted to countering and undoing the effects of forbidden magic.”
My stomach drops. “That would mean they’d know Killian was bitten.”
He inclines his head slightly, a few dark strands that are usually slicked back obediently falling into his face. “Yes. It would.”
“The Council would find out. They’d?—“
“This person happens to owe me a favor.”
I stare at him. “You think you can swear them to secrecy?”
He gives me a knowing smile that makes me want to punch him, if only because it renders his face more appealing than it has any right to be. “It’s averysignificant favor.”
“Cryptic.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Have you ever given a direct answer in your life?”
Villeneuve waves his hand, and the rose bushes part to reveal a stone bench hidden in an alcove I hadn’t noticed. He gestures for me to sit.
“I’ll answer as candidly as you wish,” he says. “You only have to ask. Enough of the truth is out now that I might as well lay all the cards on the table.”
