Serpent & Dove (Serpent & Dove #1) - Shelby Mahurin Page 0,14

a feline smile. “Careful. I still have your blood in my system.”

He looked at her in outrage. “Only because you forced it from me!”

She shrugged, completely unabashed. “I needed to see if anything interesting would happen to you tonight.”

“Well?” Bas glared at her expectantly. “Will there?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Unbelievable! Pray tell, what was the point of allowing you to suck my blood if you weren’t planning on sharing—”

“I’ve already told you.” She rolled her eyes, feigning boredom and examining a scar on her wrist. “I only see snippets, and the future is always shifting. Divination isn’t really my forte. Now, my aunt, she can see thousands of possibilities with just a taste—”

“Fascinating. You can’t imagine how much I enjoy these cozy little chats, but I’d rather not learn the specifics of divining the future from blood. I’m sure you understand.”

“You were the one who said it would be useful to be a witch,” I pointed out.

“I was being chivalrous!”

“Oh, please.” Coco snorted and kicked another pebble at him, grinning when it hit him squarely in the chest. “You’re the least chivalrous person I know.”

He glared between us, trying and failing to quell our laughter. “So this is my reward for helping you. Perhaps I should return to my cousin’s, after all.”

“Oh, shut it, Bas.” I pinched his arm, and he turned his baleful look on me. I stuck my tongue out at him. “You agreed to help us, and it’s not like you aren’t pocketing your share. Besides, she just had a drop. It’ll be out of her system soon.”

“It’d better be.”

In response, Coco flicked a finger, and Bas cursed and jolted as if his pants had caught fire. “That isn’t funny.”

I laughed anyway.

Too soon, Tremblay’s townhouse loomed before us. Built of pretty pale stone, it loomed over even its richly crafted neighbors, though it gave the distinct impression of opulence gone to seed. Green crept steadily up the foundation, and the wind whipped dead leaves across the gated lawn. Brown hydrangeas and roses dotted the flowerbeds—beside an outrageously exotic orange tree. The spoils of his black-market trade.

I wondered if Filippa had liked oranges.

“You have the sedative?” Bas whispered to Coco. She sidled up beside us and nodded, extricating a packet from her cloak. “Good. Are you ready, Lou?”

I ignored him and grabbed Coco’s arm. “You’re sure it won’t kill the dogs?”

Bas growled impatiently, but Coco silenced him with another flick of her finger. She nodded once more before touching a sharp fingernail to her forearm. “A drop of my blood in the powder for each dog. It’s just dried lavender,” she added, lifting the packet. “It’ll make them sleep.”

I released her arm, nodding. “Right. Let’s go.”

Raising the hood of my cloak, I stole silently to the wrought-iron fence lining the property. Though I couldn’t hear their footsteps, I knew the others crept after me, keeping close to the shadows of the hedgerow.

The lock on the gate was simple and strong, crafted from the same iron as the fence. I took a deep breath. I could do this. It’d been two years, but surely, surely, I could break one simple lock. As I examined it, a shimmering gold cord drifted up from the ground and wrapped around it. The cord pulsed for only a second before snaking around my forefinger as well, linking us. I sighed in relief—then took a deep breath to steel my nerves. As if sensing my hesitation, two more cords appeared and floated to where Coco and Bas waited, disappearing into each of their chests. I scowled at the fiendish little things.

You can’t get something for nothing, you know, a loathsome voice at the back of my head whispered. A break for a break. Your bone for the lock . . . or perhaps your relationship. Nature demands balance.

Nature could piss off.

“Is something wrong?” Bas edged forward cautiously, his eyes darting between me and the gate, but he couldn’t see the golden cords as I did. The patterns existed solely within my mind. I turned to look at him, an insult already rising to my tongue.

You worthless coward. Of course I couldn’t love you.

You’ve already fallen in love with yourself.

And you’re terrible in bed.

With each word, the cord between him and the lock pulsed brighter. But—no. I moved before I could reconsider, twisting my forefinger sharply. Pain lanced through my hand. Through clenched teeth, I watched as the cords vanished, returning to the land in a whirl of golden dust. Savage satisfaction stole through me