Page 27

“That is the opposite of slowly.”

“I’m new to planning.”

She shook her head, but her thumb moved across the side of my finger. The tiny caress sent a sharp pulse through the bond.

“We need information,” she said. “The curse is anchored to my mother. I could feel the structure of it when I stood close to you in the alley, but I didn’t have time to examine it.”

“Examine it?”

“Magically.” Color warmed her cheeks. “Mostly.”

“I support thorough research.”

“Of course you do.”

She withdrew her hand long enough to pull a small notebook from her coat. Several pages were already covered in cramped writing: curse classifications, anchoring rituals, and names of books I couldn’t pronounce without summoning something unpleasant.

“You started researching before you contacted me,” I said.

“I started the moment I got home from the bar.”

“Why?”

Carolina hesitated. “Because knowing my mother did this to you and doing nothing would make me complicit.”

The answer lodged beneath my ribs beside the bond.

She turned the notebook toward me. “There are texts in the public library that she can’t remove without drawing attention. Old histories, pre-coven law, accounts of anchored curses broken through outside magic. I can meet you there tomorrow night.”

“A secret date in the curse section.”

“It is not a date.”

“Will there be coffee?”

“Not if you plan to weaponize it.”

“Then it is a research appointment with romantic potential.”

“It is an extremely dangerous act of magical investigation.”

“You really know how to flirt with a vampire.”

She tried to look annoyed. The glow beneath her cheeks ruined the effect.

“One meeting,” she said. “We study the curse, determine whether it can be broken, and keep enough distance that my mother doesn’t realize what we’re doing.”

“One meeting,” I agreed, because lying to ourselves appeared to be the price of admission.

Carolina held out her hand across the table. “And this is our choice. Whatever the bond wants, whatever my mother demands, we decide what happens next.”

I took her hand carefully.

The gold light brightened around our joined fingers, warm and quiet rather than demanding. For once, the connection between us didn’t feel like fate dragging me toward another disaster. It felt like a door opening.

Given my history with doors, that should have terrified me.

Instead, I smiled. “Together?”