ago, in a rare moment of uncertainty, he’d considered selling Château Renard so he could be done chasing after some phantom vision of the perfect wine. He’d been ready to tell his mother the dream had withered. He’d return to the family law practice. No questions would be asked, and his days would go on as they had before, his life shrinking like a raisin until he died early like his father. But that was the difference, wasn’t it? He felt alive here. Expansive. Creative. His work meant something to him. He felt it in the exhaustion of his body, the clarity of his thoughts, the unexplained happiness he took from seeing a leaf unfurl fresh and green and full of potential. It fed his soul, his mind, and his heart. He didn’t make good wine yet, but he would. With her help, by God, he would.
Elena. A witch. It must be true. And yet the prospect no longer frightened him. At least not as it had. The revelation was astonishing, certainly, but no more so than discovering some never-before-seen creature on an uncharted continent. Something rare and deserving of protection and understanding.
Now, if he could just get past the crowd on the street so he could get home and explain to Elena the fool he’d been.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Got her.”
The musty scent of the wine cellar clung to Bastien’s coat, his hair, and his breath, swirling around Elena as she struggled against his grip.
“Let go of me.”
The inspector muscled his way between a pair of gawking waiters. “Hold her for me. Thank you. Pardon me. A matter of CRB business. If you’ll just let me pass.”
Panic squeezed against her lungs. She was caught. Trapped under Old Fox’s paw again. She had to get away. If only she hadn’t used up all her strength on that useless illusion. She struggled against Bastien’s grip, unable to conjure even a spark to jolt him off. But then she remembered the knife in her belt, and an animal instinct kicked up from some secret place deep inside her. She wrapped her fingers around the haft, willing to cut off her own flesh to be free if she must. Or, more gratifyingly, Bastien’s.
The inspector, out of breath, doubled over with one hand pressed on his knee while he held up his badge with the other. “Inspector Aubrey Nettles. Hold her please.”
Emboldened by the weapon, she turned and faced Bastian head-on. “I said let me go.”
“Elena?” He blanched as if he stared at a dead woman.
Nettles straightened. “You know this woman, monsieur?”
“She’s my . . . or, rather, she was once my fiancée.”
Elena tried to yank her arm free once more, but Bastien held on as if afraid to lose her again. “I was never your anything,” she said, staring at the place where his heart should be, fingers tightening on the knife.
The inspector leaned in, ready to take her into custody, but Bastien waved him off. “Where have you been all this time? What happened to you?”
The hatred she’d been cultivating for this one moment finally erupted, and she bared her teeth at him. “What happened? You ruined my life with that damnable curse of yours, and you have the nerve to ask me what happened?”
“What are you talking about? What curse?”
“Do you have any idea the hell you put me through? For seven years my mind had to tread water inside that creature so I wouldn’t lose who I am. I was nearly eaten alive.”
“Look, I admit I was angry when you left, but I would never—”
“All because I said no to your scheming and lying. Do these people know all the deceitful ways you’ve profited?”
Bastien pulled Elena a fraction closer, squeezing her arm as he took in her disheveled appearance. “What happened? Who did this to you?”
Her body began to shake. The knife handle grew slippery in her hand. The crowd hovered closer. This wasn’t how she’d planned her revenge. If only she could plunge the blade through his heart and be done with him for good, but pressed against him she couldn’t summon the nerve. Her magic wouldn’t rise. And she was no common murderer who drew blood with mortal tools. She slid the knife back into her belt and pleaded one last time: “Let me go.”
“Bastien?”
The crowd parted as if moved by an unseen hand. A stately woman stepped forward like a queen through the open space, wearing a dress made of blue silk and lace. A gift box from the perfumery,