Page 74 of Fallen Court

After the coven meeting, I had a few ideas. The trouble was, creatures usually had more creative ways of killing each other. Ones that relied on poisons and potions and were easier to cover up. There was a theatricality to this that chilled my blood.

Roark leaned closer, lifting a bloody strand of hair off her neck to reveal a symbol carved into the nape. The cuts were etched with brutal precision: a winged skull.

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes lifting to mine. “Think that’s a coincidence?”

I did not. “It’s a message.”

One meant for me.

“Thalia suggested the bona fides.” He stood, wiping his bloody fingers on his pants. “It looks like someone made her pay for that.”

Because of me.

“Someone killed her after you sent out the search order.” I lowered my voice as if not to disturb the dead.

His eyebrow arched. “What are you saying?”

“I think we have a rat,” I said grimly. “Someone told the Hunt I was in New York and where to find me.”

“The mark,” he suggested.

But I shook my head, staring down at its grim twin carved into Thalia’s neck. “They couldn’t track me that quickly. They found me as soon as I stepped foot outside of Romy’s wards. Someone told them where to look. It’s not just that. How did MacAlister get into our court? His invitation was rescinded. Someone had to have let him in there the night he attacked Cate.”

Roark scrubbed the back of his neck. “If they’re behind this, they aren’t exactly being subtle.”

“I think that’s the point.” My mouth twisted. “Why settle for making us pay when they can make us suffer first?”

“What do you want to do about this?”

“Call Gage Memorial to send some paramedics and have Garcia do an autopsy.”

“Shouldn’t we tell First Parish? They aren’t going to be happy.”

“They’re not going to be happy either way,” I reminded him, “and I want to make sure we haven’t missed anything. I don’t want a whisper of this hitting the streets before we know. Can I trust your guys to keep this quiet?”

He tipped his head. “Let’s hope so.”

“Make sure.” I’d learned a long time ago that you had to watch your step when there was a snake in the grass.

Chapter Eighteen

Cate

Telling Ciara had left me with even more questions. Mostly the ones she had asked, things I hadn’t even considered. I stewed over them while I waited for Lach to return to his quarters at the Avalon. He’d sent his sister a single three-word message following this afternoon’s eclipse.

Dealing with shit.

She’d seemed relieved that said shit had fallen to him instead of her. I hadn’t dared ask her what he was dealing with exactly. I didn’t have the bandwidth to worry about anything else.

I’d given up waiting when the clock ticked over to a new day. He was avoiding me. I couldn’t blame him. I couldn’t even decide whether to drag myself to his bed or mine. After the point he’d made about putting my clothing into his closet, the expectation was clear, but the longer he stayed away, the more defiant I felt. Until, at last, I trudged to my room at the end of the hall and got ready for bed.

But the bed felt empty as I slipped under the blankets, cold despite the warm fire glowing in the hearth. The last time I’d slept in it, he had been next to me. And this morning I had woken up in his bed. I lay awake, watching the firelight cast dancing shadows on the ceiling. The longer that sleep eluded me, the more annoyed I grew. One fight and he was going to hide? Not exactly proof of a mating bond.

I was screwing up the courage to stomp down the hall to see if he had snuck in, so I could tell him exactly that, when my door cracked open. I rolled to my side, facing the opposite direction, as he stepped into the room. But he didn’t move toward the bed.

“I’ll leave.” An offer. No, a reminder that he would always respect my choice.

I considered for long enough that he reached for the door. “Stay.”