I blinked at my friends. “This is even weirder than the Tupperware party.”

  They nodded.

  “Actually, it’s a great money-making opportunity,” a voice said from behind us.

  I turned to see Mary, the pale witch with pink hair who could always be found at Coraline and Beth’s side.

  “Money-making opportunity?” I asked.

  Mary nodded, sticking out her leg so that we could see her unicorn-patterned leggings. Then she turned around and waggled her butt, which was emblazoned with the colorful slogan I Poo Rainbows.

  “You’re going to have to tell me more,” Mac said, her voice so enthusiastic that I thought she might float away on a cloud of delight.

  Mary turned around. “Here’s the deal. Kate over there”—she pointed to a pretty witch in pink and blue leggings—“went to uni over in America. Except they call it college. Weirdos.”

  “Get to the chaps.” Mac waved her hand to urge her on.

  Mary grinned. “Anyway, Kate’s old friend from uni got hooked up with this amazing business opportunity where you can make money by selling legging chaps from your house! And if you can get your friends to do it, you can make even more money.”

  I met Mac’s eyes and saw that she was about to expire from happiness. The witches had bought into an MLM selling legging chaps. For Mac, it was Christmas.

  “I think that’s a pyramid scheme,” Carrow said.

  “Duh.” Mary laughed. “Except we actually like the product.”

  I looked around at the room of elated women. Without knowing it, the American college girl had found the perfect insane audience for her product. They knew what they were getting into—they just didn’t care. And fates help anyone who screwed the witches.

  “Anyway!” Mary said. “I think you would look great in some. Coraline is about to do a three-for-one deal of matching leggings.”

  Shoot me.

  “We’re actually here about a spell,” I said.

  Her eyes hardened. “Leggings first.”

  Shit. It looked like I was about to buy some chaps.

  Mary squealed and spun around, clapping happily.

  Ten minutes later, Carrow, Mac, and I were the proud owners of matching chaps. We barely managed to keep our own trousers on, and I could tell that Mary was a bit disappointed that we didn’t yank the new ones on right away.

  Fortunately, she still took us to a back room to sort out the spell we needed. The space was quiet and dark, filled with ancient books and lamps that glittered with pale blue light.

  She hopped onto a large wooden table and swung her legs back and forth. Somehow, she’d managed to change into another pair of leggings without me noticing. This pair was emblazoned with the Cookie Monster, but I had no idea what was on her butt. Carrow couldn’t seem to take her eyes off the damned things, and when I nudged her for clarification about her obsession, she just whispered, “They’ve got this weird fascination with Sesame Street. I have no idea what’s going on.”

  There was clearly a story there, but it would have to wait.

  “So, what do you need?” Mary asked.

  “A spell to contain a god. Kill one, if you’ve got it.” The last bit was a shot in the dark, but I had to try.

  “Kill a god, no.” She made a swooning motion, her pink hair brushing the table behind her. “Though I wish we had that kind of power.”

  “Someone you would off?” Mac asked.

  “Oh, honey. You have no idea.” She wrinkled her nose. “As it is, I can’t. But I can get you something to contain a god for a short while.”

  “Would they be incapacitated enough that we could kill them?” Carrow asked.

  “Sadly, no. It’s a barrier that will hold them, but you can’t cross it.”

  “We’ll take it,” I said.

  “You’re going to need to buy more than one pair of leggings for a spell like that.” She eyed the pairs that we clutched. “And put them on.”

  “How about cash?” I asked.

  “That’ll do, too, but it’s a hell of a lot less fun.”

  She wasn’t wrong about that. Honestly, if I had my way, I’d be drunk off the witches’ cocktails and dancing around in chaps myself. As it was, I needed to be sober, and that was not a state in which one wore legging chaps with an inappropriately placed eggplant.

  7

  Lachlan

  * * *

  “A Scottish-themed wedding on the roof of a Miami hotel?” Stunned, I repeated the words that Seraphia had just delivered to Eve, Carrow, Beatrix, and me. “You have got to be joking.”

  “Sadly, I’m not.” Seraphia threw herself into the plush chair near the fire. It was eight a.m., and she’d just arrived from the library. The rest of us sat near the fire, which flickered cheerfully beside us. I was feeling distinctly uncheerful. Even the massive platter of croissants and coffee on the table between us couldn’t lighten my mood.

  It was doing wonders for Ralph and Cordelia, however, who appeared entirely delighted. While we’d been discussing our plan for tonight, the two raccoons had somehow procured a dozen bags of pastries and had upended all of them onto a huge plate they’d dragged out of the kitchen.

  Eve had already eaten at least eight of them, a gleam of determination in her eyes. Determination was far better than the blackness that overtook her irises multiple times a day. She fought the curse, but it was clearly taking a toll on her.

  “Apparently, the hotel magnate’s daughter is obsessed with that new Scottish TV show. She’s insisting on a pretty elaborate themed wedding.”

  “In Miami,” I said. “The groom will be wearing a kilt in Miami.”

  “It’s ridiculous, I know.” She nodded. “But the stone is going to be the centerpiece of the wedding, situated right at the top of the hotel tonight.”

  “So we’re talking about hundreds of humans, along with a lot of photographers, all situated a couple thousand feet in the air,” Eve said.

  Seraphia gave a grim smile. “Pretty much.”

  Kill me now. “Can we just break in this afternoon?”

  “It’s being transported from one of his other properties. It’ll be on the road, but I’m not sure where.”

  “This could be okay,” Eve said. “Hotels have fire alarm systems. We’ll just pull it and clear it out.”

  Could it really be that easy?

  Of course not, but it was a start.

  We spent the next hour hashing out our plan, then Eve disappeared upstairs to her workshop to get started on the potions she’d need to make for tonight.

  I rose, wishing that I could follow her but deciding it would be a bad idea. Garreth was rallying our troops, but there were things that needed tending back at my guild, and I could only be a distraction here.

  And she would be a distraction to me. There wasn’t a moment that I could keep my eyes off of her. I wanted to breathe her scent and hear her voice, sit in her company and be permitted the luxury of a kiss.

  It felt impossible.

  But now that I was no longer cursed, maybe it wasn’t. If we could heal her and prevent the tragedy that the seer foresaw, perhaps we had a chance.

  I wanted it almost more than I wanted my next breath.

  “Are you all right?” Carrow’s voice cut through my thoughts, and I realized that I’d been standing in the middle of the room, staring into space like an idiot.

  “Fine.” I nodded. “I’ll be back here this evening to begin the plan.”

  “See you then.”

  I arrived back at the Shadow Guild tower late that night, once again dressed in a tux. The first one had been ruined in the previous fight, and I’d had to get another from the fae shop down the road. It was imbued with some kinds of powers, but I hadn’t been paying attention to the shopkeeper when she’d listed its features.

  My mind had been on Eve. I needed to get control of the damned thing before it ran away without me or I got caught standing in the middle of traffic.

  A contingent of shifters accompanied me to the Shadow Guild tower, Garreth among them. It was a gift to have my brother back, and I could thank Eve for it. Tonight, I would have my attention on her, and Garreth would lead them. They’d be our silent backup, hiding in the shadows until it was time to strike.

  I reached the tower and turned to Garreth. “There’s not quite enough room for everyone inside. Can you wait here?”

  He nodded, and I left.

  Eve and her friends waited in the main room, gathered around the fireplace. They were dressed in simple uniforms of black pants, white shirts, and bow ties. Though I knew they hoped to blend in as the waitstaff, they stood like warriors, confident and sure. With any luck, the guests would assume they were soldiers with side jobs, because they looked ready to fight rather than serve trays of champagne.

  “What are you looking at?” Eve asked.

  “Nothing.” I frowned. “Well, perhaps you should all try slightly softer expressions. You look ready to tear someone’s head off.”

  Eve grimaced. “That’s how I feel, but thanks for noticing.”

  “Ditto.” Mac cracked her knuckles. “I’d like nothing more than to tear the Maker’s throat out, but I’d settle for half a dozen demons.”

  “Well, try to look nice and bored by the time Lachlan calls us,” Carrow said.

  Mac scoffed. “Take some of that advice for yourself, cap. You look ready to strangle the Maker with his intestines.”

  Carrow grimaced. “Personally, I’m more into a clean beheading. But if intestines were the only weapon available, I suppose I could wash my hands a hundred times afterward.”

  “Enough. We can chat once Lachlan is gone.” Eve looked at me. “Ralph will be right down. He wanted a bow tie, but I told him it would be too weird. I think he’s trying to fashion something from my lingerie drawer.”

  The little raccoon was going to be my partner in crime while I made the first mission into the party in search of the fire alarm.

  A moment later, he plopped down the stairs, no bow tie in sight. As he passed Eve, he grumbled, You need some black underwear.

  “Trust me,” I told him, “it’s in your best interest that you couldn’t make a tie out of that. It’s not like we’re guests at the wedding, anyway.”

  You’re in costume.

  The tux had come with a white handkerchief in the pocket. I pulled it out and rolled it up, fashioning a little kerchief that I tied around the racoon’s neck. He preened.

  At Eve’s questioning look, I said, “Better to have him happy if he’s got an important job.”

  Exactly.

  “Get out of here,” Eve said, but there was a smile in her voice.

  I nodded goodbye to the women and departed the tower, Ralph on my heels. In the courtyard, I updated my guards. As planned, they would accompany the women when it was time, but they’d stick to the shadows. They were dressed in regular clothes and would hopefully pass for hotel guests, wedding crashers at worst.

  When it was time to go, I looked down at Ralph. “Remember, stay hidden and wait for my call.”

  He nodded, twisting his little hands with excitement.

  I hurled the transport charm to the ground, then stepped into the pale silver cloud. The ether spun me through space and spat me out in an alley that we’d chosen using Google Earth. As expected, it was empty and quiet. The air was warm, despite the late hour, smelling of the sea and a few more unpleasant things that could be attributed to the alley and the rubbish bin nearby.

  Ralph appeared a moment later and looked up at me, his eyes alert.

  “I’ll call you soon,” I said.

  He nodded and hopped up onto a bin, looking at it with longing on his face.

  “Keep your head in the game,” I said. “No distractions.”

  I’m a professional. I wouldn’t dream of it.

  “Of course not.” I left the alley, blending easily with the crowd on the sidewalk outside. I’d chosen an alley at the back of the hotel, but it didn’t take long to make my way around to the front.

  Palm trees waved in the breeze, and the air smelled more strongly of the ocean as I neared the main entrance of the building. A massive fountain shot sparking water into the air, and I cut around it to reach the enormous front doors. They opened seamlessly, and I stepped into the chrome and glass lobby, which had as much soul as a Wall Street hedge fund manager.

  There was no sign of the wedding except for a troop of women in identical dresses. They stood at the bar on the far wall, throwing back shots of liquor with raucous laughter. The bride was right in the middle of them, wearing the biggest white dress I’d ever seen. She swayed on her feet, hiccupping.

  I didn’t pay much attention to human wedding customs, but this had to be unusual. The ceremony wasn’t meant to start for another hour, and she was already listing heavily to the left.

  Ah, well, maybe it would work in our favor.

  I cut through the lobby and made my way to the bar. I was sure there would be a fire alarm back there—I just needed to find it. The bridesmaids hooted at me as I passed, and I inclined my head in greeting. The last thing I needed was to be rude and piss off a troop of drunken women.

  The back of the bar was full of businessmen in suits, all drinking American beer from cans. Behind them, I spotted a narrow hallway that led to the restrooms.

  Right between the doors, a little red box sat on the wall. Just what I was looking for.

  It would be too much for me to pull it—security would try to toss me out immediately, and I didn’t need my face on camera for that. But Ralph was small and quick. He could pull the thing without anyone the wiser.

  I tucked myself up against an empty table near the wall and murmured, “Ralph.”

  He appeared a moment later, his eyes gleaming. He stuck close to the shadows of the table, but it wasn’t necessary. No one was looking at the ground.

  I tilted my head slightly to the left to indicate the fire alarm, and his head swiveled, his eyes growing even larger.

  He charged it, leaping into the air and kicking it with his foot. He was back on the ground before the shrieking filled the air, and gone a half second later.

  The bar turned to chaos. The businessmen gripped their beers and hightailed it to the door, shoving the bridesmaids aside in their haste.

  The women shrieked their outrage. A tall one with massive yellow curls hurled a pint glass at one of the retreating men, hitting him in the back of the head.

  A grin cracked my face, but there was no time to stand around enjoying the show.

  I strode toward the main part of the lobby, looking for the security room and the stairs to the roof. It would be a long climb, but better that than getting stuck in an elevator.

  Ralph had headed straight back to the Shadow Guild tower to collect the others, and they would transport directly to the roof. I needed to be there to greet them, though Eve would be the last to arrive.

  I felt like a fish swimming upriver as I pushed my way through the crowd toward the back of the hotel. My first stop was the security room. It was empty, as I’d hoped, and I turned off all the recording equipment in the hotel. Then I looked for the stairs. They weren’t crowded when I entered, and I took them two at a time all the way to the top. Just a few stragglers passed me on their way out of the building, their faces harried and their steps quick.

  When I stepped out onto the roof, I was immediately assaulted by the scent of heather. There had to be a thousand bouquets of the stuff spread out across the space, looking strange as hell beneath the massive potted palms. Tartan tablecloths covered the tall tables, and rapidly melting ice sculptures of bagpipes and Nessie filled the buffet to the right.

  It was the most intense décor I’d ever seen, and I could confidently say I’d spent the entirety of my life not once using the word décor or giving it a single thought. This place made it impossible not to think it.

  But the most important part was right where I’d hoped it would be. Sitting in the middle of the space on a pedestal covered in tartan was the stone.

  A moment later, Carrow and her crew appeared. Immediately after, I could sense my guards, even though I couldn’t see them.

  The stage was set.

  Eve appeared, quickly glanced around, then spotted the stone and ran for it. A split second after she touched it, the Maker and his minions popped out of the air. He must have had some way of knowing when she made contact with the stone.

  Eve spun toward the Maker, and fear iced my spine. Would he try to take her as well?

  I sprinted for them, shifting in midair. It felt good to shed the restrictive tux and take on my wolf form. The air smelled sharper, and the sounds came louder. With all of my senses now highly attuned, I could make out the fights exploding around me.

  As before, the Maker had brought backup—loads of it. More demons than I could count, actually. My team streamed out of the shadows and shifted as they leapt at the demons. Blood sprayed and weapons glinted in the light.

  Meanwhile, Carrow’s friends fought with weapons and magic. Seraphia lifted four demons in the air with her vines, while Carrow and Beatrix threw potion bombs. Mac was a maniac with a sword.

  I darted through the crowd as I raced to Eve, determined to help her achieve her goal and keep her from getting taken by the Maker. Following him to his lair was our final goal, but I wanted it to be on our terms. She needed to be free to fight, not bound as a captive.

  In the distance, she grappled with the Maker. It looked like she was trying to drag him back from the stone, but I knew she was just planting her tracking device on him.

  Two demons lunged into my way. They were both huge, with hulking shoulders and dark gray skin. Their sawed-off horns had been filed into serrated edges, and their blood tasted like ash when I sank my fangs into the neck of the nearer one.

  He roared, trying to tear me off him. I just bit down harder and tore out his throat, spitting blood to the side as I whirled to find the other.

  The bastard had a blade raised over me, his eyes glinting with feral light. He brought the heavy sword down, but I dodged, narrowly avoiding a second strike.

 

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