Page 32 of Veil of Night & Flames

“The store’s not open yet,” I say. “Let’s come back after we go see Tia.”

Chase runs his fingers through the tousled strands of my hair. “Do you really want to wake her?”

I do, of course. But I get Chase’s point. Tia defaults to afternoon classes for a reason. Basically, because the girl is a night owl.

I look up at Chase and shrug. “Should we go get a coffee while we wait for Mr. Griffin to show up?”

A hint of a smile touches his lips as he shakes his head. “Trust me.”

Since I do, I follow him to the door, then watch as he slides a wooden panel to the left to reveal a keypad. He punches in a code, the lock clicks, and I follow him inside, then through the stacks to the familiar stairs that lead down to the training area.

I groan as we head down. “Come on, Chase. No training today.”

He shoots me a wry glance. “You’re essentially beyond lessons, Cora. We both know that. And you don’t need the help from Griff’s gizmos and gadgets anymore.”

“Then why are we here?”

He doesn’t answer. Just crosses the room and taps on one of the mirrors mounted on the wall. A moment passes, then the mirror shudders as it slides open to reveal a dimly lit room and⁠—

“Mr. Griffin!” I launch myself into his arms and hug him at least as tightly as he’s hugging me.

“Oh, thank goodness,” he says, when we finally break apart. Relief seems to pour off him like rain. “The equipment registered the crash. We feared the worst.”

“It was the worst,” I say. “We lost Whistler. Wolves.” My voice sounds choked. “Horrible wolves.”

I see the depth of the loss in his eyes as he shifts his gaze to Chase in silent question.

Chase shakes his head. “There wasn’t a body to bring back,” he says softly. And that’s when I lose it.

I don’t mean to. I made it through day after day without crying for the friend who literally saved me and Tia. But when I try to say something—I don’t even know what—all I can manage is a squeak before I burst into tears.

Chase pulls me against his chest, and I press my face into his shirt and cry the way I couldn’t cry in front of Adric or Kali or any of the courtiers who’d watched me that first night, wondering if I was just a girl or their soon-to-be queen.

It feels like a million years until I can breathe again, but as soon as the sobs stop, Mr. Griffin passes me a handkerchief—and that simple act almost starts the waterworks all over again.

“He was a stubborn old bastard,” Mr. Griffin says quietly. “And a good friend.”

“We’ll have a memorial,” I say. “With Tia.”

“We will,” Mr. Griffin agrees, before stepping back into what I guess is his apartment and returning with coffee.

“You live down here?”

“Since Helen died,” he says with a nod. “I thought you knew.”

“I guess I never thought about it,” I admit.

“We had a home near the beach,” he says, but after she died…well, without her, it was only a house.” He shrugs, as if that explains everything. I suppose it does.

“I’ve missed you,” I say, and it’s the truth, even though it’s only been a couple of days for me.

“And I you,” he says, but as he speaks, he leans forward, studying me.

Then I realize. Not me—the vial hanging around my neck.

“Intriguing,” he says. “A souvenir from the Nightmare Realm?” His brows rise as I picture a little shop at the entrance to the castle that sells trinkets to visitors from other realms.

Then I think about what the vial really means—and how Mr. Griffin will react if I tell him the truth.