I scowled. “You hardly tried.”
She held up the cup. I tried very hard.
“Dumping water on my face isn’t trying hard.” I pushed my wet hair off my forehead and tried to still my racing heart.
That dream…
I shuddered.
It couldn’t be a vision of the future, could it?
But it was. It was exactly what I’d seen when I’d touched Grey last week. A vision of our future—of what “Cursed Mates” meant to us. Except we didn’t know why or how, exactly.
Cordelia shifted, staring at me with solemn eyes. The Devil is here.
“What?” Surprise flashed through me. “Already? Why didn't you lead with that information?”
She shrugged. I told you, didn’t I?
I groaned and climbed out of bed, still dressed in half my clothes from yesterday. “Where is he?”
In the street.
I scrubbed a hand over my face and grabbed my robe, pulling it on over my T-shirt. He didn’t need to know what a slob I was. I’d been wearing this shirt for at least twenty-four hours straight.
The clock showed that it was already past two in the afternoon, yet I still felt exhausted. “How the hell did I sleep so long?”
You were up forever reading that book. The sun had already come up and everything.
I groaned, wishing I had one of those cappuccinos from the Mages’ Coffeehouse. If there was one thing I needed right now, it was caffeine. Good, strong, caffeine, preferably prepared by someone else and served in a cup I wouldn’t have to wash. That wasn’t happening anytime soon, however.
Butterflies tumbled in my stomach as I went to the bedroom window and opened it, leaning out to look at the street below.
Just as Cordelia had said, the Devil waited down below. He was so damned handsome in the afternoon light, his suit cut impeccably to make him look like a spy out on a coffee break.
Coffee.
My gaze riveted to the two paper takeaway cups in his hands.
“Is one of those for me?” I asked.
“Indeed, it is. May I come up?”
“Did you find another copy of the book?”
“Will you let me come up if I didn’t?”
“Just curious.” I pointed to the drinks in his hands. “You’ve already got your invitation right there.”
One corner of his full lips tugged up in a grin.
“Cordelia will show you in,” I said. “Wait in the living room. I need a quick shower.”
He nodded.
Behind me, Cordelia grumbled.
I turned to her. “I got you a kebab last night, and you owe me.”
I’ll do it for another kebab.
“You drive a hard bargain, madam.”
She nodded. Damn right I do. And don’t think I’ll forget.
“I would never.” She wouldn’t let me. If I’d learned one thing, it was that Cordelia remembered what she was owed. Hell, I needed to get my business up and running so I could keep her in the lifestyle to which she’d become accustomed. No more dumpster diving for my kebab-loving raccoon.
She trundled to the door, and I darted into the bath.
The space was little and cramped, shoved under an eave that had been built hundreds of years ago. But it was mine, and I loved it. I took a shower in record time, wondering what Grey thought of my place.
By the time I’d dried and dressed in my usual black jeans and T-shirt, Cordelia was back in the bedroom. He’s waiting for you.
“Thank you.”
Kebab?
“They’re not even open yet, nerd.”
They are, too. It’s the afternoon, not morning.
I sighed. “I’ll get it later. We need to get a move on with this, and you need a more varied diet.”
She scoffed and turned away to climb back onto her chair. I left her to it, heading out to join Grey in my living room. He stood by the window, his pose tense and slightly uneasy, as if he didn’t know where to sit. He looked big and out of place in the tiny room.
“You can sit anywhere,” I said.
He turned to me. “Thank you.”
He didn’t sit, instead handing me my drink.
I took it gratefully and nodded my thanks. “Is this from the mages’ place?”
“Indeed. A cappuccino.”
“Thank you.” I sipped. “Oh, that’s amazing.”
He smiled, and the faintest bit of warmth entered his eyes. It made him appear almost human, although no less otherworldly in his beauty.
“So, the book?” I prodded.
“Apparently, there is another copy in the Order of Magica Archives in Chicago. My contact there, Ms. Cross, tracked it down.”
“And?”
“She’ll show it to us today. We are to meet her outside of the Order of the Magica’s Hall of Inquiry as soon as you’re ready.”
“I’m ready.” I grabbed my leather jacket off the back of a chair, then debated bringing the book. I didn’t really want to leave it out of my sight, considering it was cursed. In and of itself, that was a valuable clue. “Let me just get the book.”
He nodded, and I hurried back to my bedroom, slipping the book into the cross-body bag in which I’d been carrying it around. I returned to the living room and found him by the door.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready. How do we get there?”
“We’ll take a portal to save on transport charms. There’s one that leads directly from Guild City to Magic Side.”
“Perfect.”
I followed him down the stairs but paused briefly by Mac’s door.
He stopped and turned back, raising a brow at me.
“I’m going to check on Mac and Seraphia.” I knocked lightly, then stuck my head in. “Hello, you two. Are you all right?”
Mac and Seraphia sat at Mac’s table, their heads bent over cups of tea. They looked pale and weak.
I hurried inside and dropped into a chair beside them. “You guys look like hell.”
“I’m fine.” Mac’s voice was faintly raspy. “Eve is coming up with more of the potion that holds off the effects of this curse.”
“Is she any closer to a cure?”
“Not yet.”
Grey was standing in the doorway. I felt his presence like the warmth of a summer day and turned to him. “Do you have any contacts who could figure out what’s wrong with them?”
“Not in town, no. But Ms. Cross may know of someone. She works at the Order, and they have access to all varieties of magic.”
“Nevaeh Cross?” Seraphia asked.
“The same.”
“I’ve heard of her. Reportedly an excellent scholar.” Seraphia’s face was wan. “Did she find a copy of the book?”
“She did.”
“Thank fates.” Seraphia’s eyes brightened at the news. “I’m dying to know what history has been hidden.”
“We’ll find it.” I turned back to Grey. “If there’s someone at the Order who can help with Mac and Seraphia’s condition, what will they need?”
“A hair from each of them will do.” Eve’s voice sounded from behind Grey. “Sorry. I was eavesdropping.”
He moved aside to let her pass, and she slipped into the room. The raven followed her, its eyes as black as her dress. Her peasant-style skirt flowed around her ankles, glittering with black beads.