Chapter 1 #2
My heart thuds, and I clutch the bedazzled box of magical tissues to my chest.
Imani knows some things, but I need to be honest with them all. Roscoe’s death, my horrifying childhood, my bargain with Alistair, the clusterfuck of the monster realm . . . it’s all mixed up in my mind, ricocheting around like the last few ice cubes in a blender cranked to maximum power.
Where do I even begin? I look from face to face.
Imani, my best friend, who’s never once let me down. Brandy, whose stories always make me laugh, even on my worst days. Ada, with her long legs and perfect sense of rhythm. And Lyss, who can’t make a martini to save her life but could put any supernatural on their ass.
It doesn’t matter how I tell the story; they’ll stick with me no matter what.
I roll my shoulders back and brace myself. “I should start by telling you my father wants me dead.”
By the time I’ve purged everything, the box of tissues is significantly lighter. My tears dried up while I was talking, but I think I transferred them to Lyss. She hasn’t stopped crying since I told her about what happened to my mom.
I hadn’t planned to go so deep. I was going to drop a few surface-level explanations and move on.
Instead, I found myself describing Mom’s smile and how she looked in her favorite sitting room, light coming through the stained glass window and bathing her in a myriad of colors.
Perched on her hip, the air tickled my tiny wings as she danced us both around the room.
If I close my eyes, I can still feel it.
While I talked, Ada and Brandy fussed over me, slathering me in witch-made creams spelled to erase bruises, reduce redness and swelling, and leave my skin as soft as silk.
“You don’t think Malach betrayed you,” Imani says.
I shake my head. “I know it’s crazy. I didn’t even use my magic to test him when I had the chance.”
Imani frowns. “You listened to your heart—”
I groan. “Right, which is stupid. If I’d had the balls, I could have known without a shadow of doubt.”
“And broken your promises to him at the same time. You couldn’t do that, Celine.”
I heave a sigh, relieved by her reaction. On paper, I’m a lovesick fool, but Imani knows me. She knows Malach too, and there’s no one I trust more to keep a level head.
“I think you should listen to your gut.” Ada spreads a new cream on my forehead. It’s pleasantly cool and lightly scented—rosewater, I think. “Malach trusted that you wouldn’t use your truth on him. I think he lied to get you to leave.”
“He’s probably planning to kill your father himself,” Lyss says grimly.
I sit up straighter in my chair. “There’s no way. He’ll be by himself, and if he was faking being on my father’s side, he’s almost certainly locked up.”
Brandy sighs. “Lyss is right. He wants to be your hero. It’s romantic.”
I cock my head.
She rolls her eyes. “Hear me out, Malach grew up with you, right? He saw all the terrible things your father put you through, but he wasn’t strong enough to do anything about them.
” Brandy dabs salve on my split knuckles.
“You weren’t the only one hurt by that abuse, Celine—your father’s violence shaped Malach, too.
I bet he can’t move on until he makes it right. ”
A chill rolls through me.
If he doesn’t move on, he’ll be cut down.
I’ll lose him completely.
I wrap my arms around myself. “You should all be on guard,” I whisper. “My father has spies reporting to him; he knows you’re my friends.”
“Aww.” Brandy squeezes me tightly. “Celine is admitting we’re friends. Write this down.”
My cheeks heat. “I was trying to keep you all safe,” I protest.
“We’re never safe, babe.” There’s a dark undercurrent in Imani’s voice. I look at her, and she shakes her head subtly. “But we’ll watch out for each other. Don’t worry about us.”
Easier said than done.
Someone bangs on the door. “Where are all my dancers?” Sal demands. “Someone needs to get their ass on stage.”
“Sounds like it’s your time to shine, Sal,” Imani hollers.
“Yeah, Sal,” Brandy adds. “Your tits bounce more than mine these days, anyway. You’ll be a big hit.”
Sal mutters something about pecs and ungrateful employees, and I raise my eyebrows. “What’s he doing here?”
Imani smirks. “Trying to keep the Fang running without Luca. Let’s just say he’s found it difficult, and that’s putting it mildly.”
“We figured we’d be fired.”
Ada scoffs. “If you play it right and let him yell at you for a few minutes, you’ll come out of this with a raise. Sal hates being here, and he’s gotten a crash course in exactly how important Luca is to the Fang.”
My lips twitch. Luca busts his ass every day to keep this club afloat, and it’s about time Sal recognized that. While I’m grateful we haven’t officially been fired, I can’t come back to work until I see this through. “No yelling yet,” I tell them. “I need to handle some things first.”
Imani studies my face. “Malach deserves your loyalty, babe. Hang on to that if things get messy.”
I nod and squeeze her hand.
Her eyes are tired, and I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been missing or something else. This isn’t the right time to push her about it. Just because I decided to air everything out to the other girls doesn’t mean Imani will make the same choice.
Sighing, I dig around in my cubby, relieved to find a clean set of sweats stuffed in the back. I change into them, ignoring the bruises and scrapes on my legs. We made it through the escape relatively unscathed, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t take hits.
“I may need your help with a young witch,” I tell Ada and Brandy. “She’s a kid, but she’s powerful. She hasn’t spent much time around other witches.”
Brandy winces. “Our coven doesn’t have a lot of juice, but we’ll be happy to help her. It’s not easy around here for a lone witch.” She doesn’t say the obvious; we all already know it—it’s not easy for any supernatural to be on their own in the Fringes.
That’s okay, though.
Because it’s home.
And it’s good to be back.