Celine placed the ring on her finger. Then she embraced her mother. “Thank you, Umma.”
Surprise flickered across the Lady of the Vale’s lovely face. But she took her daughter in her arms and pulled her close. “Never forget how much your umma loves you.”
“I’ll return soon,” Celine said. “I promise.”
“I know you will.”
THE LADY OF THE VALE
As soon as her daughter and the damned blood drinker left court, escorted by Yuri, Lady Silla called for Riya. She beckoned her general close, until her most trusted huntress was the only one to hear what she had to say.
The leader of the Grey Cloaks nodded. When she stepped back to carry out her lady’s orders, a cold smile tugged at the corners of Lady Silla’s mouth.
After all, she had not attained the height of power in the Summer Court by anything less than sheer cunning. And she would not lose this power to anyone. Much less to the heir of the vampire she hated most in this world. The vampire who’d taken more from her than any other enemy still in existence.
Lady Silla would know.
All her other enemies had perished by her own two hands.
BASTIEN
We return to a world of ash and smoke. A world of fire.
It is June in New Orleans. Though it is sunset, the air swelters around us, the smell of the sea sharp. Almost two months of mortal time have passed in the five days we spent in the Otherworld. Though Arjun warned us this would happen, it is still difficult for me to believe.
But not as difficult to comprehend as the sight before me now.
Jacques’—the place I have called home for ten years—has been burned to the ground, along with two other buildings along the same block. All that is left are piles of smoldering rubble. Half a chimney. Stacks of broken bricks. The occasional flash of melted brass. Remnants of my uncle’s marble chess set.
I wander through the remains of my home, Celine standing silent beside me, the sun descending at her back. Passersby pause to take in the scene, their jaws agape, their tongues clicking against the roofs of their mouths.
Such a shame. Their whispers carry through the air, clear as a church bell. Sometimes I am grateful for my heightened senses. Tonight is not one of those times.
Celine sidesteps a pile of red bricks and moves alongside me. She glances about, her green eyes brilliant. Like emerald beacons shining through the darkness.
“Do you know who might have done this?” she whispers, taking my hand.
“I have a—” I snarl as movement resonates in the darkness behind us. A pile of bricks collapses in a puff of smoke. I pull Celine behind me, a low hiss emanating from my throat.
“Bastien.”
My shoulders fall at once. From behind the blackened chimney, Odette emerges, her face devoid of emotion. She is dressed like a man in mourning. In her hand is a felted top hat. Across her waist is the chain of the gold pocket watch that once belonged to my father. She must have saved it from the fire for me.
I take her hand and yank her into an embrace. Celine draws us both close. In our arms, Odette’s body sags. I hear a single sob.
“Was it the Brotherhood?” I say.
Odette nods against my shoulder.
“Was anyone injured?” Celine asks.
Odette pulls away, her gloved hand swiping at the blood tears trickling down her cheeks. She shakes her head. “Nicodemus wasn’t here. He was in New York. The rest of us—including all the mortals who worked here—managed to escape before the blaze consumed the building.” Her smile is bleak. “Even Toussaint made it out unscathed, though the poor little snake refuses to come into the light, no matter the enticement.”
Rage riots through me, hot and fast. All at once it turns to ice in my veins. I think back on the fire that took my sister, Émilie, from me. The Brotherhood should know better than to do such a thing to my family. “And Jae?” I ask softly.
“Madeleine freed him from his silver prison.” Her sad smile widens, her eyes tremulous. “We haven’t seen him since, though I suspect he is still in the city. Our family has taken refuge at the Hotel Dumaine. Ifan has made certain none but we are allowed access.”
“Why would the Brotherhood do such a thing?” Celine asks, her voice breaking.
“Both the Fallen and the Brotherhood have been searching for a reason to strike out at each other for the last decade,”