Back in the de Leons’ Paris apartment, they sat in a circle in the salon that was still painted with Isabel’s art. Isabel and Molly sat snuggled up together like lovebirds on the end of the settee. Mateo was propped up in the corner of the settee, his eyes half-open but aware.
Wesley was perched on the edge of the ridiculously decadent chaise again, and Sebastian was sitting on the floor next to his legs, his back pressed up against the chaise.
“So you have control of a relic now?” Isabel asked.
Sebastian winced. “Can you or Mateo steal it from me, please?”
“Sure, I’ll just off Lord Fine first,” Isabel said dryly. “You know it takes theftandmurder.”
“How did Sebastian gain control of it then?” Molly asked.
“His own murder,” Wesley guessed. “Blanshard had stolen Sebastian’s life force, after all, and he was only breathing because of the spark in the lion tattoo.”
“I agree,” said Isabel. “Stop looking so guilty, Sebi. You would never have committed the murder needed to transfer the brooch’s magic. Blanshard tried to kill you and instead gave you the means to kill him. He did this to himself.”
“Yes, he did,” said Wesley. “Sebastian said the brooch relic makes magic work on other magic, but I thought all de Leon magic already works on other magic. What exactly has it done to Sebastian?”
“It would have strengthened his enervation magic,” Isabel said.
“Cranked it up todestroy, it sounds like,” said Molly.
“Except that doesn’t make sense.” Sebastian ran a hand through his hair, his elbow bumping Wesley’s shin. “If tía Casilda also had the brooch relic, why could she only bind Blanshard’s magic? Why did I destroy it?”
“For the same reason you lived, I’d wager,” Wesley said. “You also have the magic of your tattoo.”
Sebastian blew out a breath. “I don’t want the power to destroy magic. What if I can destroyauras?”
“Except you didn’t,” Wesley said. “There was an entire crowd present and all you did was knock them down. I was right there, and you didn’t hurtme.”
Sebastian still looked shaken. “But destruction like this—it’s bad magic.”
“Ask Mateo if he thinks it’s bad magic,” Isabel said quietly.
All of them turned to look at Mateo. His eyes were still half-open, but he hadn’t spoken once since they’d returned.
“Ask Mateo if he thinks all magic is good and should be saved, Sebastian,” Isabel went on, still quiet. “Ask him if he wants to see the future ever again, or if he wishes there was someone who could bind his magic.”
Sebastian swallowed.
Oh, that couldn’t be fair, could it? Even Wesley could see this entire conversation made Sebastian ill. But then, if the other option was losing his brother to magic—
“I don’t think I should try to touch Teo’s magic,” Sebastian said hoarsely. “I killed Blanshard.”
“No,” said Isabel. “You destroyed Blanshard’s magic, so he had no way to hold on to all those stolen lives. That is why he died, not because of you. The power to bind or even destroy magic is not the power to kill.”
Sebastian winced. “But—”
“Sebastian.” Mateo’s raspy whisper somehow seemed to echo around the room. “Can you set me free?”
“Dios mío.” Sebastian buried his face in his hands. “Teo—”
“Will you try?” Mateo said.
Wesley frowned. “I thought we were going to take you to the magically painted house in Barcelona,” he said to Mateo. “Isn’t that still an option? Why do we have to put Sebastian through this?”
“You’re protective of my brother. I appreciate that,” Mateo said thickly. His eyes were glassy behind half-shut lids. “I don’t want to ask him for this either. But I’m not going to make it to Barcelona.”
Oh no. Wesley didn’t want Sebastian to go through this, but he most certainly didn’t want him to lose Mateo and be forced to wonder forever if he could have saved his brother.
