Light streamed through the window, pulling Erik from sleep. Monique was still tangled in the sheets with him. A familiar face stood across the room, light seeping through her dainty frame.
Since Cassandra left Monique’s childhood home, following him to New York, he’d learned a lot about her. Like the fact that a dark mage had killed her in her home with her whole family. He’d helped her find peace, but she stayed, coming to him at all times of the day and night. He used to look at her like an older sister. Now she was the little sister.
Normally, she would avoid him while he was with a woman. Though she had always liked Monique and would drop in to watch her. It was why Erik knew about Nigel Shade and several other lovers of hers over the years.
He blinked against the sun and lifted his head to meet her pale blue eyes. The only colors in her apparition were her red lips, rosy cheeks, and hint of blue. Her clothes were from around the 1800s. She rarely talked about herself, preferring to pry into his life.
Cassandra’s head tipped to the side, a peculiar smile on her pouty lips. “About time you two let go of the past.”
He groaned and laid his head back.
“She loves you, Erik.” She glanced away. “Alistair says he’s heartbroken.” A giggle escaped. “He still seems to think you two have a future.”
Erik sighed heavily. He didn’t want to talk to Cassandra, and definitely not Alistair while Monique lay beside him. Last night was amazing, but as much as Monique promised to be his, he didn’t believe it was lasting. And like a glutton for punishment, he gave in because his heart was never going to learn the damned lesson.
Cassandra rattled on, “I’ve been watching Monique. She looks through the old photographs, smiling at all the pictures of you. Her whole warehouse is full of mannequins that look like you.” Cassandra crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed.
Erik pulled the sheet up, covering both himself and Monique.
He whispered, “You do realize there’s a better time to have a conversation, right?”
She shrugged. “It’s not like I haven’t seen you in more compromising positions.”
“But chatting with you with a sleeping woman in my arms, especially Monique, is bizarre, even for me.”
“Fine, I’ll come back once you’re dressed. I learned something interesting.”
Monique yawned, looking around. “I can almost hear a girl’s voice. You talking with someone?” she asked. Her sleepy eyes sparkled in amusement.
“Yeah. Cassandra. She’s too young to be in here with us.”
Monique’s eyes widened, a smile spreading. “The girl from my home? She’s still with you?”
His brow arched. He didn’t often talk about the ghosts to her. “You remember?”
“She followed you to New York.”
“Yeah. We became friends.”
Monique smiled. “She sounds more amused than anything.” Monique took another look around. “She’s there, isn’t she?” She pointed to the corner of the bed.
“Wish to God she wasn’t,” Erik muttered. “There were better ways to wake you up than a conversation with a nosy ghost.”
Pouting, Cassandra stood up. “Don’t be long. I want to help with your problem.”
“Soon, Cassandra. Please go.”
“You don’t have to kick her out,” Monique murmured, curling closer. “I don’t mind.”
“I like her,” Cassandra said.
He sighed. “She likes you.”
Monique replied, “Then she can stay.”
Cassandra grinned. “A woman asked Tarek to frame you. She was mad he failed. She’s a dark mage.”
Erik sat up, the sheet falling. “Who?”
Monique tugged the sheet over her exposed breasts with an arched brow.
Cassandra looked up at the ceiling and away. “I didn’t hear her name, but she’s awfully powerful. Like the one who took my life so long ago. And familiar—maybe it was her.” Her face pinched as she turned back. “I think she very likely is.”
“Why do you say that?”
She shook her head. “Same current of power. Don’t know how to explain it. I never saw her face yesterday. Never saw the woman who killed me, but I heard her voice.”
Erik nodded, thinking about the women in the Council who were more than two hundred years old. He knew of a dozen. “Thank you, Cassandra. Honest, that narrows it down.”
“Narrows what down?” Monique asked.
Erik answered, “We’re looking for a mage more than two centuries old. A woman. In the Council most likely. Someone with an agenda.”
“There are quite a few.”
Erik turned to her with a snort. “Not all mages have it out for the rest of the casters, Monique.”
“You can’t tell me there aren’t at least ten.”
“That’s better than hundreds,” Erik pointed out. “And she’s a dark mage. Furthers it down even more.”
“So what do we do?” Monique asked.
Cassandra smiled. “I’ll see if I can track her down. Maybe a name.”
“Thank you, Cassandra.”
She dipped her head. “I really am glad you two worked things out. Twyla always freaked whenever I came around.”
Erik chuckled. “Monique knows about my visitors. That was never our issue.”
“You should call off the transfer. Seriously, Erik. Monique really does love you. Always has.” Cassandra faded away, and he fell back with a sigh.
Monique rolled to him. “I don’t remember ever hearing her tone so well before.”
Erik shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you. I know I’ve grown stronger over the years. Some people can actually see and hear them when I’m close.” He snorted. “She mentioned the last woman I dated. Twyla could hear them as well as I could. Cassandra isn’t the only ghost who couldn’t stand her. Alistair hated her.” Erik sighed.
“Why?” Monique asked with a tipped head.
“He thinks he’s in love with me. I’ve tried to explain living and dead don’t mix like that, and that he’s definitely not my type, but it doesn’t sink in.”
She giggled, which turned into full-on laughing. “You have a boy ghost hot for your body?”
He sighed. “Can we not? I don’t control who comes to me. Some of them stick around.”
“Why did Twyla see them so well?”
“She was a suppressed medium. Being with me unsuppressed her gifts.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Eight years ago. She ended things. You came back. I’ve been chasing ever since.” Only he wished he were done with the sappy schoolboy shit because he needed to move the fuck on already.
“You’ve caught me.” Monique pushed his chest. “Let’s get showered and dressed. I have an idea.”
He caught her wrist. “What’s that?”
“My logs. I have some mages I want to look into on the books.”
Admittedly, he was confused about how that would help. If someone wanted to stop the DSF, they were likely mage elitists. Wouldn’t that also mean they were against enchanters?
Probably.
Shit, what did he really know about magical fashion? Nothing, that’s about what. Well, other than the clothes could protect from various things.
“What about food?”
“We can get that on the way.”
He sighed and climbed out of bed. “And what about clothes?”
Smirking, she nodded to the closet. “I have plenty of clothes for you.”
“Why?”
“Typically, when I’m working on the men’s line, I’m thinking about what would look good on you.” She shrugged.
He couldn’t stop the cocky grin from spreading. “You never got over me?”
She moved to him and trailed her fingers over his heart. “I might have been winning battles, but you were winning the war.” Those words shattered his restraint, chasing away the fear this was a farce.