“No, Rosier, listen. She danced with her brother, right? And then, yeah, she probably did go off to pout or cry or something–nice work by the way–but she never came back.”
I huff, “How is this my fault?”
He groans. “Like teenagers in love–no, worse,tweensin love.” He’s still catching his breath. Every word he says is so pressed it’s like he hasn’t stopped running to catch up to me yet. “But listen, the le Fays? They’re gone. Just up and left out of the blue.”
I raise a brow. “I don’t understand.”
Kas looks over his shoulder. “I-I don’t know. I saw the misses leave suddenly with some museum person trailing behind her. Then I went to look for you and–Hells, they’re probably gone by now.”
"Where is Minnie?" My interest in the le Fays is bound by her incessant need for revenge. Though I do want her to succeed.
Kas stutters. "I don’t–"
"Useless." I storm past him. Wherever the le Fays are, that's where Minnie is, I have no doubt. If they're gone, I'll have no choice but to tear up the city looking for them. Looking for her...
Little witch doesn't need a contract. Clearly.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR
MINNIE
I’min the very position I hoped my Father would be in when I finally confronted him: caught off guard, brain scrambling, trying to think of something clever. We’re alone, which also isn’t great. Kas and Rosier were supposed to be my backups, flanking me like loyal hounds, but better just us two than the whole le Fay clan.
Arthur is looking right at me, but I face the painting instead.No, I need to do this, I tell myself. I’ve wanted to confront him for so long, and now I have my chance.
I lift my chin and turn to him.
“I always regretted not taking you in as my own,” he says.
I’m going to be sick all over Chanel’s nice dress.
“Your Grandfather,” he continues. “He convinced your Mother I would be a bad Father.”
Gramps was right, not surprising.
“So I had no choice but to let you live apart from the rest of your kin. Shame, too. Guine always wanted a daughter.”
“You have a daughter,” I point out. Not that I would have ever accepted Guine as my Mom anyhow.
“Nimue is… difficult. Especially for Guine. Takes too much after me. But let’s not linger on the past–”
“Actually, let's. You abandoned my Mom.”
“I told you, your Grandfather–”
“She died, scared, confused, and in pain.” My jaw is so tight, I’m surprised I can even speak. “I’ve heard about your obsession, how you want to become immortal. Are you?”
His eyes flash with pride, but I’m not sold. “I’m only as powerful as my bloodline, Minerva. To tell you the truth, I thought you would be weak. But I heard about what you’ve summoned. Clearly I missed something–perhaps your Grandfather has witch ancestry.”
Gramps is 100% human, ancestry be damned. There are more normal humans than there are witches and plenty of intermingling between them.
“You can do great things, Minerva. Let us help you reach your potential. Accept your birthright.”
I scrunch my face, trying to look as mean as possible. “I’m powerful because I worked for it. I studied harder than you and your kin–put more effort into my spells. I wasn’t born better than you; Ibecamebetter than you. Birthright is bullshit.”
He lets out a good natured chuckle, like I’m a child throwing a fit in front of him. “Better thanme? Well, you are my child. Whatever magic you have is my gift to you.”
“You still haven’t answered my question. Are you immortal?”
