Orders completed, I placed the paper in the bucket by the window and lowered it by the attached rope. Leaning out, I watched Berat, the restaurant owner, grab the bucket.
“Mission complete,” I said, pulling my head from the window.
“That’s a handy system,” Seraphia said.
I grinned. “All Mac’s idea. She came up with it.”
Mac tore open the bag of crisps. “I’m a genius, what can I say?”
“There are bowls in the kitchen,” I said. “Freshly washed, even.”
Mac disappeared into the kitchen as Cordelia appeared on the windowsill, her little nose twitching. Kebabs?
“Yes, Cordelia.”
Excellent. She trundled over to the couch and climbed up to sit between Eve and Seraphia. They must have met earlier, when Cordelia had delivered the book to Eve, because Seraphia took it in stride.
“I can’t find them,” Mac called.
I joined her in the kitchen and fished the bowls out of the tiny cupboard, pointing with my elbow at the little fridge. “There’s some wine in there, if you want to grab it.”
“Do I? It would be pure barbarism to have a girls’ night without wine, even one that’s aimed at solving an ancient deadly mystery and will involve—unfortunately—no drunken antics.”
I grinned and filled the bowls with crisps, then took them out to the living room and handed them around. Mac joined me and passed out the mini boxes of wine, pouring Cordelia a smaller serving in a cup. Cordelia glared at her.
Mac couldn’t understand Cordelia when she talked, but the look was easy to read.
“Hey, don’t blame me.” Mac raised her hands. “You have the lowest body weight, and I’m just doing the maths. We don’t need an unconscious raccoon on our hands.”
Cordelia scoffed and drank her wine.
I sipped my wine and contemplated everything we’d learned. Everything I’d learned since my arrival. “You know what’s weird?”
“What?” Mac asked.
“There are no misfits in Guild City. Everyone ascribes to a guild, or they get booted. No weirdos allowed.”
She shrugged. “Those are the rules.”
“Yeah, but there are misfits in the rest of the world. It’s strange that there are none here. Seems like it should be impossible.”
Mac frowned. “That’s a good point.”
“It’s always been the way of things,” Eve said. “It helps hide us and protect us if everyone has to be in a guild and follow the rules.”
“But surely a few weirdos wouldn’t throw off the whole magical system. I mean, they’d still have to control their signatures, right?” I asked.
“Right.” Seraphia pulled her knees up to her chest. “You know, Carrow, you’re right. It is very odd. We try to shove everyone into a box and stick them in a guild, but what if they don’t really fit?”
“They get kicked out of town.” Mac’s words were a growl. “It’s bloody unfair.”
“Who made these rules, anyway?” I asked.
“That guy, Councilor Rasla, from the statue you saw earlier today,” Seraphia said.
“The one with bird shit all over his head?” I asked.
Mac grinned. “The very same.”
“So he’s the one who laid the foundation of exclusion in Guild City.”
“Yes.” Eve sipped her wine. “Though I’ve never thought much of it before now. When you grow up with something, you tend to accept it and not to look too closely at it. It’s just part of life.”
I didn’t like it. Not only because I wasn’t included in a guild, but because it seemed wrong. As wrong as the cursed magic that hovered around the city wall. “Why do you think the darkness in the wall called to me?”
Mac’s gaze flicked to mine. “Now, don’t go thinking you’re secretly evil or anything. Because you’re not.”
That was exactly what I’d been worried about. “How could you tell?”
“You’re an open book, and none of the pages have been torn out.”
“But I wasn’t cursed.”
“I have no idea why that was,” Eve said. “But we’ll figure it out.”
“Maybe it’s the magic from Orion’s Heart that you absorbed,” Mac said.
“Or maybe you’re just a total badass,” Eve added.
“Maybe.” Doubtful.
A bell rang from below, catching my attention. Cordelia leapt off the couch and scampered toward the rope. She hauled on it, pulling hard to raise our dinner up the wall. I joined her and tugged the bucket up the last meter.
My mouth watered at the fragrant smell of grilled meet and spices as I lifted the bucket through the window. I handed Cordelia her little glass takeaway container, then passed around the rest of the food.
We chatted as we ate, discussing everything that we knew about the mystery. It shouldn’t have been fun, but it was. At least a little. There was still the fear that hung over us, but being with Mac, Eve, and Seraphia was fun even when it was scary and tense.
Finally, we’d exhausted ourselves and every avenue of discussion. Mac yawned, and Seraphia followed suit, her mouth wide.
“You two need some rest,” Eve said. “The curse is draining you.”
Mac looked at Seraphia. “I’ve got a spare bed at my place. You can bunk there, if you want.”
“Thanks. I’m exhausted.” She yawned again.
I stood, my gaze going to the book that we’d brought up from Eve’s shop. “Do you mind if I look at that again tonight?”
Eve frowned. “Is it safe?”
“The wall cursed them, not the book.” I shrugged, trying to appear casual. “I think it will be fine. If there’s a problem, Cordelia will get you.”
Cordelia glared. I need my beauty sleep.
“You’re beautiful enough, so do me a favor, okay?”
She grumbled but nodded.
“It’s all yours,” Seraphia said.
“Thanks.” I grabbed the book and waved goodnight to them as they piled out the door.
Cordelia trundled after me to the bedroom. She slept in a ratty old armchair that Mac and I had unearthed in a secondhand shop. Mac had disapproved of our find, but I loved the worn blue velvet, and so did Cordelia.
Be quick. Cordelia climbed onto her chair. I’ll be asleep in no time.
“Yeah, yeah.” I flung myself onto the bed, barely managing to strip out of my jeans and shoes.
The night sounds of Guild City drifted through my window as I leaned back against the headboard and flipped through the pages. The golden glow of the lamp illuminated the tiny, ancient print.
What are you looking for?
“I’m not sure.” I kept flipping. “I think I’ve got all the clues I can out of it—using my magic, at least. But I haven’t read it. It’s a history of Guild City.”
That means it’s a history of the Devil.
“Maybe.” But that’s exactly what I’d been thinking. I could probably learn about him through this book. Given what was growing between us, I wasn’t going to look a gift book in the mouth. Even if it was cursed.
Carefully, I searched for the Devil’s name. He was rarely mentioned, but when he was, he was always doing something important.
Like establishing the city, for one. Apparently, he’d been on the original council hundreds of years ago and had helped draft the city designs, basing them on his hometown of Sighișoara in Romania.
Did he miss it?
As the pages turned and the years passed, the Devil appeared more infrequently, as if he’d stepped out of the limelight and become the loner I knew him to be. For someone with so much power and influence—and so many employees—he spent most of his time alone, as far as I could tell.
Not a single friend, unless you counted Miranda. And you couldn’t. She was a great right hand, but she wasn’t his pal.
The mystery of the Devil—of Grey—ran through my mind as my eyelids grew heavy, and the book slipped from my grasp.
When the dream came, I didn’t even realize it was a dream. The line between wakefulness and sleep was so fine that it didn’t exist.
Instead, I was immediately in the future, wrapped around Grey as he bent over me, his fangs brushing against my skin. A shiver raced through me, fear and desire in equal parts.
I moaned, tilting my head, wanting more of him. He groaned low in his throat. The noise made the heat inside me burn ever brighter. When his fangs pierced my skin, pleasure flared.
I clutched him to me, clinging. Waves of pleasure crashed over me as he drew on my neck. Every pull felt better than the last, until my head began to spin. My heart stuttered, and my skin grew cold.
Dimly, I realized that this was bad. This wasn’t normal.
“Grey.” I tried to speak, but the word was barely a whisper. He didn’t stop. Panic flared.
I tried to struggle, but it was too late. He’d taken too much. There wasn’t enough blood left to deliver oxygen to my muscles, and I was fading away. Dying.
My last thought was one that had haunted me since I’d heard it.
Cursed Mates.
7
Carrow
Hey! Wake up!
Cold water splashed on my face, and I jerked upright, gasping.
Cordelia sat next to me on the bed, my water cup clutched in both of her little paws. She grinned toothily at me. You weren’t waking up.
I scowled. “You hardly tried.”
She held up the cup. I tried very hard.
“Dumping water on my face isn’t trying hard.” I pushed my wet hair off my forehead and tried to still my racing heart.
That dream…
I shuddered.
It couldn’t be a vision of the future, could it?
But it was. It was exactly what I’d seen when I’d touched Grey last week. A vision of our future—of what “Cursed Mates” meant to us. Except we didn’t know why or how, exactly.
Cordelia shifted, staring at me with solemn eyes. The Devil is here.