There was a strange, honeyed perfume and a soft, barely-there chirping in the darkened stillness.
“Luvic?” I whispered again. “It’s me.”
His eyes fluttered open, and he stared at me with pupils blown so wide they almost swallowed the deep brown of his irises.
His mouth wobbled. “Another one? It’s like Penn Station in here . . . except you don’t need a ticket to ride.”
I frowned at the thick slurring of his voice.
He laughed, and it wasn’t his mischievous chuckle but instead a deep, honey-over-gravel sound. “Why’re you always poisoning me?” he asked. Then, “Come here.” His hand shook as he gestured for me to come closer. When my thighs brushed against the satin bedspread, Luvic lunged for me.
I spun, hitting his chin with the flat of my hand. He slammed into me, and the breath raced from my lungs as my back hit the floor. Luvic braced himself on top of me, grabbing my wrists, pinning me down.
“Luvic,” I said, gasping to pull in another breath.
He stared at me as if he didn’t know why I was there or how we’d ended up on the floor. “Mari,” he said in surprise, sniffing my cheek. “It’s you.”
“Of course it’s me.” I shoved at his chest.
He blinked and then shook his head. “The room’s spinning. Why are you on top of me?”
“You’re on top of me.” I shoved him again.
“No. I’m on the floor.”
“Are you drunk?” I asked, peering up at his eyes.
He snorted. “Half-dead. Drunk on Dainty Drink. Out of my mind. Is Cora in here?” He looked around, peering over his shoulder then blinking at the shadows.
“What?”
He looked at me owlishly. “Cora. Taller than you. Hair like autumn. A smile like sunrise. A laugh as comforting as a cat’s purr. She was . . . just here.”
I shook my head. “Last was just here.”
“Last?” He frowned. His hands loosened on my wrist, and I shoved him again. He rolled to the side and sprawled on his back. “Last . . .” He mulled this over, staring at the shadows playing on the ceiling.
“She came out right before I came in. She looked . . . upset.”
He made a noise. It sounded a lot like the noise he’d made once, when he and Finn used to play fight and Finn accidently punched him in the gut. He pressed his fingers to his forehead, massaging the worry lines. “I can’t think. I can’t . . . The woman who left just now . . . that was Last?”
I nodded, the heavy feeling in my stomach coiling tighter. “You saw . . . someone else?”
Luvic jerked upright, his skin draining of color. He looked wildly around the room, almost frantic with fear. He struggled to stand, then he lurched and fell to his knees. He gripped the edge of the bed, his whole body shuddering.
“Mari . . .”
I crouched next to him, frightened of the spasms wracking him. “What’s wrong? What?—?”
He turned to me, pinning me with a wild gaze. “Last came here as Cora. Do you understand what I’m saying? I saw Cora. She was here. She—” He made an inarticulate sound, then a jackaltooth snarl ripped from his throat. He shoved the bed, and it flew across the room, slamming against the far wall.
I stared at the shuddering bed. That was jackaltooth strength. No human—conjurer or not—would’ve been able to throw a king-size bed fifteen feet across a room.
“She—” Luvic began to laugh, but it was a rage-filled, wild, frightening laugh. “No wonder she was so angry. I told her, ‘We can’t. I can’t betray my bond. I love you, but I can’t. You know this.’ I wanted her so much—this stupid drink—but if all I have left is honor, then . . . I told Cora to go. But it wasn’t Cora. How did . . .?” Luvic swallowed, shaking. “How did she know what Cora looked like? She’s never met her. She shouldn’t know her. She . . .”
He struggled to stand, and I grabbed him and steadied him when he nearly fell.
He blinked at me, his chest heaving. “I have to go to her. I have to make sure . . .”
