Page 57
With that, she leapt into the ether, skipping hallway to hallway until—
There!
Lunara appeared in front of him, grabbed hold of his sleeve, and misted them to the Demon’s Cove.
“Are you out of your stars-damned mind?” she shrieked above the crashing waves, the water perfectly reflecting her turmoil as she shoved him. “What did you find, Magnus?”
His head fell back, eyes scrunched closed. “Nothing.”
“Oh, sure! The Demon King Lyriat just fell out of a wall and straight into potentially fracturing a centuries-old alliance with you hollering at his back because of nothing.” She pitched her voice lower on the last word to mock him, ready to smack him in his ridiculous face. “Tell me what happened, Magnus.”
“You and that fucking ether trick,” he mumbled under his breath, pinning her with a withering glare. “As I said, nothing. What I need you to do is just fucking trust me when I say everything is fine. Can you do that? Can you leave it well enough alone?”
“No, I can’t and I won’t leave it—”
He snatched her upper arms in a firm hold, giving her a shake. “I’m a terrible fucking liar, but I made Lyriat a promise, aye? Leave. It. Trust me. Trust him. Worry about your own shite. You’ll know when it’s time to fucking know. Now get me up to the tower so I can take a stars-damned shower, shovel in enough food to keep Pet from whinging, and pass out until morning or another crisis wakes me.”
“But I—”
“Ah! Tower, witchling. Now. I’m not taking those fucking cliff stairs, and I’m not sleeping in the sand.” He released her and smoothed his golden hair back with a shaky sigh. “Do it before I lose it again and start crying, or I will never forgive you, I swear to the Sisters.”
Well, then.
There was an earnestness in his amber eyes, a truth to his tone, that Lunara couldn’t deny. That didn’t mean she had to like being left out of the loop.
“Fine.” She misted them to the tower balcony, checking to make sure Brand wasn’t inside before stepping out of the ether. “But if it turns out you lied just now, it’s me who won’t be forgiving you.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not fucking lying. Goodnight.”
Magnus stormed across the room and slammed the washroom door behind himself. Since she refused to let him have the last word, Lunara sent a thread of magic to seize the particles, rip it back open, and jam it that way before she left.
Lunara jolted awake, the nightmare fading far too slowly for her taste.
Speaking of taste, fairly certain something’s died in your mouth.
She smacked her lips together, cringing at the dry stick of her tongue. When she straightened, the pages of an ancient tome rustled as they fell back into place, their imprint sore on her cheek.
Do yourself a favor and ignore the wet spot you left on the parchment. And maybe wipe your face.
Weeping moons. Forget her face—she needed a scouring pad to scrub the ghastly images from her mind. Stone and shadow. Torchlight and screams. A Demon’s profile amidst the scene, twisted in agony, her body naught more than a heartbreaking splash of red. Always the same, the individual featured the only detail that ever changed.
“Oooh, a whole hour that time. Good for you.”
Lunara found Fern crouched on a nearby chair with a book in her hands, a sardonic brow raised in her direction.
She sighed at that expression, trying to stretch the ache away. “The crick in my neck is convinced it was far longer than that.”
Fern snorted. “It should’ve been. When’s the last time you laid down in an actual bed?”
Probably best not to think about that.
It was definitely best not to think about that.
Fern was well aware of the correct answer, but Lunara attempted a breezy lie anyway. “It hasn’t been that long. A couple days, at most.”
Fern didn’t bother going along with it, her lips flattening. “Nice try. More like a week. You know, ever since a certain Demon woke up with someone else’s personality. You can’t keep going on like this. It’s not good for you.”
That was rich. It wasn’t good for either of them, but she’d have better luck mating herself to a light post than getting the relentless Fae to admit that.
