Chapter Eighteen

THEY HAD FOUGHT before but not like this. Everything was crashing around her. She’d lost Lillia. She’d lost Fauna. It was only a matter of time until Soren realized Briar was a monster and left her too.

She didn’t know who he was talking to, who’d made his brow furrow and his silver eyes spark. She could barely bring herself to care except that she loved him. She worried for him. She had to find a solution to keep Soren safe. She had to figure it out. He was all she had.

But she was failing. She hadn’t been to her bookstore in too long, she’d barely read anything in weeks. She used to be insatiable and she should be now. She should be devouring books to find something. She should be knocking on Lillia’s door and demanding she teach her everything she knew about spellwork.

She should be testing out spells. Finding a way.

But she was tired. And she was sad.

And the one thing she knew for certain was that she couldn’t tear open a hole for the Gods and let them walk in her world again. They had done too much damage, caused too much pain. They didn’t look out for humans, they only looked out for themselves. Eliana had lived enough lifetimes for twenty men but they had allowed her to come back.

And they had cost her everything.

Soren shifted on the end of the couch, his hands clasped on either side of his head, covering his pointed ears. “My dad’s got a spell book. I doubt it will help.”

Briar sat up slowly. Her head hurt. Her whole body hurt and she was bone tired. “We’ll take whatever we can get and pore over them. We’ll solve this with human magic. We have to stop asking for the Gods to help.”

“Lillia’s house was warded against Eliana. That’s old magic too. Maybe we should work there, or have her do something similar here.” He leaned over, picked up Snowflake, and scratched him behind his ears. “Do you mind if he comes over?”

It took Briar a moment to realize what he was asking. She was already composing a text to Lillia in her head. Ansel Savros. He hardly seemed the demon he once had, now that she’d met real evil. “It’s fine. He’s trying.” And if they managed to find a better solution Soren would have more time with his father. If the change she saw in him was real, maybe this time Ansel wouldn’t take his blessings for granted. She would do her best to remember that lesson as well, for however long she had left.

Magic threaded through her fingers, and she let it spool and unspool. So much power bottled up inside her. She wanted to pass this off, let someone else bear the burden, but Eliana had chosen her for a reason. She had the magic needed to summon a God. That meant she had enough to kill one too.

“I’m going to start taking public outings with Evaria. I can act as an advisor, an intern, whatever,” she told Soren, voicing the thoughts as they came to her head. “We have to get Eliana off our trail. Let her think Vestia quieted us and we won’t act against her. It’s the only way we’re going to get near her.”

“You think that’ll work.” He kept glancing at his phone though it was black on the coffee table.

“I think she’s unhinged,” Briar said. “I think she’ll believe lies if they’re wrapped nicely enough.”

“Loving and losing Velorian is what set this off.” Soren nuzzled the cat and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “She’s still holding a grudge against him because he chose another. Another from your bloodline. Maybe someone chooses her. She’d probably follow them.”

“No.” Briar said, sitting up straighter. She pulled her legs underneath her. “You can’t. It’s too risky.” And unlikely. She doubted Eliana would believe Soren had true intentions for even a moment.

“Oh, only you get to seduce Gods,” he teased. Then his face grew serious and he put the cat on the ground to face her fully. “Briar, I volunteered to die. I’m the lost cause. I don’t know much at all about spells but I know we’ll need to be close to her.”

Every bit of this terrified her. It was her constant state now, she vacillated between horror and sadness. But she needed to keep Soren safe. “She’s dangerous and she knows your mind, Soren. I don’t want to lose you at all but I don’t want her to get you first either. We have never succeeded in tricking her.”

He chewed his lip. “What about Bastianna? I was attracted to her before. She’ll know it’s a bit of a ruse but I might be able to wear her down without too much suspicion. She’s just like Eliana, desperate for someone to notice her.”

“I don’t like this. Not at all.” But she could see the steely resolve in his eyes. He was going to do something. “Be careful. And if you get close to Eliana we could always try your other plan—a good, old-fashioned murder.”

Soren laughed. “Stabbing? Gun?”

“I feel like there aren’t enough drownings.” Briar smiled and the feeling surprised her. She wasn’t sure when the last time she had smiled was. “Can I stay here tonight?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t paint me while I’m sleeping.” She tried to smile again but it felt strange on her face. Standing up, she pulled the blanket with her and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Good night, Soren. Here’s to fucking everything up less tomorrow.”

*

THE GRIMOIRES WEREN’T much but they interested Briar all the same. The spells were handwritten, strange languages mixed with familiar words. Some of them included recipes or instructions. Herbs and crystals. She couldn’t wait to show Lillia.

Ansel was watching her like a ticking bomb. She’d acted like one the last time they’d been in Soren’s kitchen together. But possessed or not he’d deserved it and worse.

“I don’t bite.” She flipped a page. A spell to ward against foes. Whatever that meant. Human foes? Bears? Girlfriend’s angry husband? There was no explanation. Everything in the book was vague.

“No, but you hit like a large man,” Ansel said. “So, what’s your plan for dealing with her?” He glanced between Briar and Soren.

“We’re keeping that close to the chest. She has a way of finding things out, as you know.” Soren picked at the plate of eggs in front of him. A shadow of stubble had started to grow on his face and Briar wasn’t sure how she felt about Soren having a beard.

Ansel rubbed his temples. “What else can I do to help?”

“Have you ever met Agatha Marsh? I’m not sure how many spell books she has since she’s fae but your grandma collected them so she might have as well. Maybe you could pay her a visit.”

Ansel poured himself a glass of water and took a long drink before answering. “Agatha Marsh doesn’t particularly care for me.”

“Agatha doesn’t care for anyone. You don’t have to go. I can just write her and ask.” Briar didn’t trust Ansel but she trusted Soren and she knew he wanted to try. She couldn’t blame him. She had thought of calling her own mother several times in the last few weeks. She racked her brain for another task she would trust him with but then he nodded.

“I think I’m just a bit afraid to go back to Ourst. After what happened.” He drained his cup of coffee. “I can’t bring those women back but I can do this for them, so I will. I’ll find whatever I can.”

“Thanks.” She pulled the spell books across the counter and flipped through one of the oldest ones. She could feel Soren’s eyes on her back. Then both men left, heading toward the hallway.

The first few pages she flipped through were healing magic—outdated spells for ailments that were better cured by science. Each one was accompanied by a long list of herbs and specific instructions. The more she read, the more she realized how intuitive most of the spells were: healing plants, freshly dug earth, and setting intentions.

As time marched forward, the modern world had taken over, replacing intention with doctors, herbs with antibiotics, and fresh dug earth with expensive creams and ointments. No need for a spell to help find a lost friend, you could call them. No need for something to soothe a throat, a pharmacy was on every corner. But there was something to this, something no doctor or scientist could recreate in a lab. These spells felt like home.

The voices of the two men drifted to her, too faint for her to make out much more than that they were saying their goodbyes. She didn’t know what to feel for Soren. Glad he was working things out with his father? Annoyed she had to talk to Ansel, who had once made a speech alluding to the belief that faeries had more positions of power because they worked harder? He’d even brought up Wesvik, missing the point entirely of why witches did better in big cities. He hadn’t been under anyone’s influence then, only his own stupid brain.

How Soren had come from him she would never understand.

She grabbed another book, this one bound with red leather. It had no title but all the corners were rounded and worn. She flipped through it until she got to a section on wards. Some of the pages were dog eared, the ink was faded. This book had been well loved.

There were wards for everything written in the pages. Bugs in the kitchen. Stray cats. And—her heart skipped a beat—warding Ortus from a deathbed. She had no idea if it worked but symbols were drawn on the page, angular and sharp. She’d seen similar ones on Lillia’s doorframe.

This book was old, maybe older than the witches’ magic. And it was well preserved. Soren was right, there were ways to hide this from Eliana and she knew who she needed to call for help.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she pressed Lillia’s name in her contacts. The phone rang and rang, long enough Briar began to think she wouldn’t pick up, and she braced herself to leave a voicemail. Then the ringing stopped.

“Hey. How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay.” Though she wasn’t. She’d sent Fauna half a dozen texts since she woke up in the morning and hadn’t heard anything back. “I was thinking about the wards on your house. Could you do them somewhere else?”

“I’ve never tried. My sister reinforced them for this generation but I guess I could give it a go. I’d need a day or two just to get what I needed and have Estoria show me what to do.”

“Yeah, that would be great. We’re…well, I’ll tell you when I see you. But my place? You can text me the time. I’ll make it work.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Later.”

Briar held the phone away from her face and stared at it. Which of the Gods were watching her now? Was Nilaja laughing? They hadn’t bugged her since the night at the ruins with Lorcus. She didn’t trust any of them. Even when they didn’t mean to, they affected the humans in ways they couldn’t control. The draw of so much power, wrapped in such a beautiful package, was too dangerous.

If they walked the world after so long away, trapped in their own realm, who knew what damage they could do with their freedom.

And it wasn’t just her own guilt talking, she kept telling herself. It wasn’t because when she had been seeped in terror she had reached out to the wrong person. No, Nilaja wasn’t even a person. They didn’t think like a person. They were frightening and powerful and alluring. They didn’t belong here. The universe had gotten it wrong, humans would have been better off alone, to live and die, then find passage down the river and into the realm of the heavens. No intervention had been needed.

Soren returned alone. “Well, I guess we won’t be seeing each other as much if I’m going to try to get near Bastianna. If you see Fauna…”

“I know.” Briar tapped her fingers on the counter. “She likes yellow roses.”

“Should we have told her? I keep thinking about what I could have done but I’m not sure we were wrong. I feel guilty but our backs were to the wall. They still are. And it had only been a couple days when she found out. It’s not like we spent a lifetime hiding it.”

His thoughts mirrored her own. “I know, but it’s her mom. She’s grieving and she’s mad. We just have to…wait for her, I guess.” All their conversations were looping now. An endless cycle of sadness and pain. She had moved so quickly to kill her aunt, dreading every moment but prepared to act. Not with Soren.

But the moment was drawing near. Too many people were dead and she could nearly feel the blood on her hands. All of it, all the pain and loss, reverberating through centuries from Eliana’s curse. Her own blood was the price of that magic. It didn’t seem fair. It should be Eliana’s blood spilt.

“If she had just loved her creation, think of where we would be. We were all human once. I think faeries and witches would have mixed enough by now that we wouldn’t even care about our differences.”

Soren grinned. “One day they’ll talk of you, Briar Constance. The woman who saved the world.”

Her cheeks heated. “I doubt it. More likely I’ll be a footnote. Crazy rich girl who tried to murder the Prime Minister.”

He shook his head and walked toward her. “Too many people love you for that to happen.” He gripped her shoulder and brushed his thumb across her skin. She suddenly remembered everything she had once seen in him. When he wasn’t Soren, her best friend, but Soren, ridiculously handsome playboy fae.

And that was not what she needed. Briar took a step back. No longer was she looking for comfort in anyone’s arms, she was looking for blood. Retribution. For the first time in her life, she wanted to watch the light go out in someone’s eyes. She wanted Eliana dead and the Gods gone and humans free. Unfettered for possibly the first time, free of the terror the Gods brought, free to choose their path and do good deeds.

Free.

“How are you going to make sure you don’t get pulled back into her thrall?” she asked. Her gut told her the spell was permanent, that if Eliana could control them again she would have, but she didn’t want to rely on guesses.

“I was wondering when you’d ask. Come on.” He led her to his art studio, thick with the scent of paint. He pushed back jars of brushes to pull out a little book. “A witch I briefly dated gave me this and I almost forgot I had it, but I thought of it while you were sleeping last night. It’s got a few potions and charms for protection. We were involved when my dad was first elected. I’m not sure if anything in here will work but I was going to try to make some of the potions and hope for the best.”

“Our motto.” Briar walked around the room, looking over his paintings. The ones on the easels were dark, full of reds and blacks. One had a tiny figure in front of a swirling abyss, her blonde hair blown behind her, her mouth a terrified O.

It was time for Briar to leave. She was just waiting on the inevitable. She needed to come up with a true plan. A spell. A location. And the other spell, the one they hadn’t talked about. The backup that would involve Soren dead at the end of a blade.

She needed to call her mother and see if she could get her hands on any old spell books. The thought constricted her chest. Her mother wouldn’t have those in her possession. They would be with family she hadn’t seen since she was a child. Would any of them even want to talk to her, much less give her family heirlooms?

“Let me know if you need any ingredients or help with those spells. I should get going if we want this to be believable.”

“All right.” He put down his book and pulled her into a hug. “See you soon.”

Briar nodded, blinking back tears, then went down the hallway and stepped out of Soren’s house. Out into the bright sunlight of late morning and into the city where she had no friends left.