ODETTE

The scene before Odette was a cheerful one.

Three young women were framed in a shop window, the glow of the late-afternoon sun gilding everything it touched. Muffled laughter filled the air, followed by the unwrapping of parcels, brown paper flung to all corners of the sparsely decorated space. Occasionally a corgi puppy with a high-pitched bark would snag a bit of loose string or discarded wrapping, only to fling it into the air with a joyous yip.

The petite blond girl with the heart-shaped face and the bright blue eyes—one Philippa Montrose, by name—had assumed the position of authority, hands perched on her hips and a determined set to her brow, while the unfamiliar girl with the copper skin and rich brunette hair hummed to herself as she moved efficiently behind the makeshift counter, taking stock of unboxed ribbons and skeins of colorful fabric. Though both young women stayed busy, they managed to keep watchful eyes on the pale figure seated in the corner, a tired smile on her bruised face.

Odette sighed to herself as she watched the tableau unfold from beneath the shadow of an awning across the street.

Celine had much improved in the week since Odette came in secret to check on her. But the lovely young woman had lost even more weight, her curves shrinking further into nothingness. She still moved with care, wincing every so often, the wound on the side of her neck held together by neat stitches, her right arm bound in a sling.

“It’s only been two weeks,” a male voice said from behind Odette’s shoulder. “Give it some time.” Shin Jaehyuk came to stand beside her. “Despite appearances, she is healing. Humans are more resilient than we like to believe.”

“Was it you who asked after Celine at the hospital last week?” she murmured.

He said nothing.

Odette smirked at him. “I was told an unnamed gentleman made inquiries regarding Mademoiselle Rousseau’s health.” Though amusement tinged her voice, her sable eyes were kind. “I would not have expected such a display of concern for a mere mortal, Jaehyuk-ah.”

“She means a great deal to Bastien.” The knuckles on Jae’s left hand turned white. “And Nigel never should have been able to do what he did, to either of them.”

Odette swallowed, guilt gnawing at her insides. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Nonetheless.” He inhaled. “Is she sleeping better?”

“She still has nightmares. The orderly at the hospital told me she woke up screaming at least every other night before she was discharged three days ago.”

Jae frowned. “Nicodemus personally glamoured her. The girl should not be haunted by memories of her ordeal.”

“I’ve heard of men on the battlefield who lost a leg or an arm and still felt the ghost of their limb haunting them after the fact.” Odette stared as Celine stood to help Pippa with an unwieldy parcel, only to be soundly criticized by her friend for daring to do so much as lift a finger. “Perhaps she lost too much,” she finished.

They both turned as a young boy darted between them, rustling Odette’s organdy skirts and the hem of Jae’s greatcoat as he passed. A peal of silvery laughter fell from the boy’s lips, his friends chasing after his heels. Across the way, the humming brunette inside the shop peered outside to witness the commotion.

“We should go before anyone takes note of our interest,” Jae murmured.

“One minute more.”

His expression softened. “Of course. However long you wish.”

Odette arched a brow. “Careful, mon chat grincheux. One of these days, I might accuse you of sentimentality.”

“It isn’t for her benefit that I wait.”

“Is that so?” she teased.

He stared down at the scars on the backs of his hands. “Do you remember the night I went to find Mo Gwai?”

Odette nodded, her expression somber.

“You said you would scour the earth with me. Burn the warlock to dust for what he did,” Jae continued. “Because I was your brother.”

Odette nodded again, a lump gathering in her throat.

“Celine Rousseau mattered to you.” He paused. “You are my sister, Odette Valmont. Until the end of time.”

Without a word, Odette reached across the space between them and took his hand. He flinched, but threaded his scarred fingers through hers. A gesture so uncharacteristic of Shin Jaehyuk that it touched Odette in the place her heart used to beat, the magic of the dark gift moving the blood through her chest.

“Do you ever wish you could take something back?” she asked as they resumed watching the three young women in their quest to set up shop. “Something you regretted.”

“An immortal life is too long to dwell in regret.”

“I welcomed Celine into our world.” Odette sighed. “Perhaps if I had not, none of this would have happened.”

“Perhaps. But it was the girl’s choice to relinquish her memories.”

“Was it?” she asked quietly. “Bastien said he would have preferred the true death.”

“He is yet a boy. A man does not hide from his fears. He faces them.”

“I wish I could make him a boy again.”

“You wish to unmake him, then.” Jae’s voice was harsh.

“Haven’t you ever wished to be unmade? To return to simpler, easier times?”

“No.” He met her gaze, the light in his dark eyes fierce. “Because then I never would have found my family. My purpose. To me, that is worth a hundred thousand cuts and every piece of my lost soul.”

Odette squeezed his hand. “See?” she said. “So sentimental.”

The suggestion of a grin ghosted across Jae’s lips. Then—arm in arm—they walked from their street corner into the comfort of the growing darkness.