“Me, either,” Seraphia said, going to her knees.
Panic flared. “What’s happened?”
“A curse.” Mac straightened, her entire body shaking. “It’s the wall, somehow. I can feel it.”
I looked back. The wall glowed with dark magic, magic that had infected Mac and Seraphia. My heart raced. “How do we fix you?”
“Let’s go to Eve.” Mac looked at me, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Do you not feel bad?”
“Not really, no.” I swallowed hard. Why was I so different?
It wasn’t that I wanted to be cursed, but…
why not me, too?
“You have the faint darkness to you, though.” Seraphia staggered upright. “The curse seems to be hovering around you.”
Maybe it likes me.
It was a terrible thought.
“We need to get you to Eve,” I said.
“We also need to figure out what the hell this is.” Mac pointed to the wall, her voice firmer. “She can’t fix us if we don’t know what the curse is.”
“Have you ever heard of anyone being cursed by a wall?” Even the words sounded insane.
“No.” Mac shook her head. “But objects can hold curses, and this is a particularly big object.”
“Then how did it get cursed? And with what?” I clenched my fist, resisting the urge to touch it. It was hard, though. The darkness in the stones called to me.
But I don’t want to be that person.
I turned from the wall.
“We can get ourselves to Eve,” Mac said. “But we need you to figure out what’s going on. Are you okay here alone?”
“Yeah. Fine.” I stepped away from the wall, hoping to fight its fascination. The weight of my bag pulled at my shoulder, the book reminding me of its presence. “Seraphia, have you found anything else about this in the library?”
“Nothing. I checked the entire history section, too, hoping to find a clue about the missing pages.”
I nodded. “Okay. I know someone to ask.”
Mac’s gaze flicked to mine. “The Devil?”
Seraphia’s eyes widened. “The Devil of Darkvale?”
I nodded. “He’s immortal and helped found Guild City. He’s the only one I know who was around when any of this happened. Surely he has to know what is going on here.”
Seraphia nodded, but her tone was clipped with wariness. “If you say so.”
“Come on, pal.” Mac reached a supporting arm around Seraphia. “You’re looking pretty pale. We need to get you to Eve.”
“Thanks.” Seraphia shot Mac a grateful look, as if she were unused to such kindness.
“Update me as soon as Eve helps you,” I said.
“Likewise,” Mac said. “I want to know what the hell is going on here.”
I nodded, watching them turn and limp across the grassy square. At one point, they fell to their knees, and fear surged through me, blocking my throat.
This could kill them.
The wall still pulled at me. Everything in my soul wanted me to turn around and press my entire body against it.
Nope.
The sight of Mac and Seraphia dragging themselves to their feet gave me the strength to resist. I kept my gaze on the two women for support as I followed them away from the overgrown square. Exiting the dingy alley, I made for the Devil’s tower. Grey’s tower, as I now thought of it.
It had been three days since I’d appeared before the council with Grey at my side. Three days since I’d seen him, but I had a problem, a big problem that I didn’t fully understand.
And I was going to bring that problem straight to the devil himself.
3
Carrow
The journey to Grey’s tower was a blur. People thronged the streets, shopping or out for lunch, but the wall and the curse surrounding it were the only things on my mind.
We’d just saved Guild City from a deadly threat. Was I now going to have to save my friends from another one?
I wasn’t sure I was up for the job.
But I had to be.
Finally, I reached the clearing in front of Grey’s tall, dark tower. Powerful and mysterious, Grey had been here since the city was founded. He owned his own tower, the only individual who could make that claim. The black stone was imposing, and the red glass in the windows emphasized that this was the Devil’s lair.
The truth of him was far more complicated, I’d come to learn.
The two bouncers at the door nodded in recognition. Both were shifters, members of the guild that handled security and protection detail in town. One was a lion and the other a panther, if I recalled correctly. I returned the gesture, hurrying past them and into the small foyer of the Devil’s domain.
As usual, Miranda stood at the desk. She was dressed impeccably in her uniform of pencil skirt, blouse, and stilettos, her hair pulled back in a neat twist at the base of her neck.
Only the uninitiated would think that the beautiful banshee was just a hostess.
“You’re here to see him?” asked Grey’s right-hand woman.
“I am.”
She raised her comms charm to her lips and spoke into it, murmuring low. I could hear the faint echo of Grey’s voice as he answered her, but it was too quiet for me to make out.
She lowered the device and looked up at me. “I’ll take you.”
“Thanks.”
She gestured for me to follow her and strode down the hall, her tall heels clicking against the floor.
Somehow, I just knew she was the kind of woman who could run in those things. She could probably even blind a man with them, all without so much as slipping them off.
We passed by Grey’s nightclub. It was almost certainly a front for his illegal business dealings, but I was confident he didn’t do anything too ethically questionable. The Council held such tight control over Guild City’s magic that smuggling allowed Grey to make a fortune without dealing in people, weapons, or drugs, like so many human mobsters did.
Miranda passed Grey’s office and kept going toward his private quarters.
My brows rose. It was well into the workday already, but he was seeing me in his living space?
As always, I wanted to ask Miranda more about Grey. There was so much that I didn’t know about my Cursed Mate.
But I’d be a fool to ask.
She’d never betray him, not with so much as a morsel of information.
She stopped outside of Grey’s chambers and rapped on the door.
A moment later, it swung open. Grey’s tall form filled the doorway, and he was so handsome that he nearly burned my eyes. As usual, he wore one of his impeccable suits. He looked like a spy right out of a James Bond film in the elegant apparel. His sharp cheekbones and strong jaw were highlighted by a faint stream of light coming from the window, but it was his full lips that drew and held my gaze.
“Thank you, Miranda.” His low voice feathered over my nerve endings.
Miranda nodded and disappeared silently. I met his icy gray gaze. It warmed slightly at the sight of me.
“Grey.”
“Carrow.” He gestured for me to enter. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I’m not sure it’s going to be a pleasure.”