Page 127 of The Cursed Fae

It was the truth I’d been desperate to learn, yet there was no victory. It wasn’t good news. I didn’t want to become a myth passed through the generations. I just wanted to be me.

This would’ve been the moment to tell them about Mat and Lena and my fast-approaching deadline. My gaze shifted to Missy, who shook her head subtly. She clearly hadn’t told my family about the ultimatum.

“It would explain why Lazlo could feed off your magic without lasting damage,” Nana continued, drawing me back to the conversation.

“He nearly drained me the night we summoned Ray,” I admitted, tears falling. “Astrid gave me a transfusion. She said it was bad. I should’ve known then.” I wiped my eyes and sniffled loudly, looking at my mother. “You’re right.”

“Oh, sweetheart, no.” She scooted closer and gathered my aching body in her arms. “It’s my fault. No more secrets, though. I promise.”

“None,” I echoed, knowing I had at least two that I didn’t plan to share soon.

They fixed me tea and soup and brought it upstairs on a tray. Mom wanted to sit with me while I ate, but Nana sensed I needed alone time and shooed my mother down the stairs. Missy stayed.

She explained how she finally figured out it had been Laz who killed her. When she talked to Ewan’s in-between spirit, he admitted he’d seen his attacker. He had lied to Essie about it when she removed her ghost-blocking jewelry and summoned him to talk; he wanted to settle the score himself without involving politics.

It wasn’t until Missy that Ewan realized Laz was a repeat offender.

Talking to him made her understand, too. According to Missy, Ewan appeared solid to her, just like Archer.

She’d warned me to stay away from him because of his oddly corporeal appearance. He was supposed to be as dead as her, so she'd thought he might be a demon or something.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a grimace.

I sopped up the last of my soup with a bit of my roll. “It’s okay. I should’ve listened to your warning. We’re even. How’s Lena?”

“Good. Mat hasn’t been around.” She hesitated. “I get you’re all powerful and eternal and stuff—”

“After this bullshit with Laz, opening his portal across the country will be cake,” I said, cutting her off.

I really believed that. My magic was already recharging. A couple more meals and a few hours of sleep, and I would be good as new. Or maybe it was the lack of both that gave me false confidence.

“Who gave me their magic?” I asked around a yawn. “I still feel awful.”

Missy looked at me strangely. “No one did. Essie tried, but your body wouldn’t retain it. That’s why we were all so worried. It’s a miracle you’re alive.”

In the days that followed my showdown with Laz on the beach, a lot of things happened while I stayed sequestered in Nana’s attic. Mr. Keene stepped down as chancellor of Arcane University. His replacement was due to arrive the following week, and she was a shifter—a panther.

This, according to Missy, was hot gossip because the college had only ever employed a fae in the top spot. My great-grandmother fully supported the decision, though she was surprised when the Zodiac Fae didn’t consult her about their choice.

I didn’t understand why this mattered until Missy explained—giving a non-Gemini that much power within Nana’s territory was a slight to my family.

Apparently, the Council decided she needed to get her house in order, so they’d sent a shifter they trusted to oversee the cleanup.

Twenty-four hours after the attack, Laz left the hospital in magical shackles. There would be a trial at some point, unless he pled guilty. I hoped he would save everyone the trouble of reliving the trauma. Since he’d woken in the emergency room, Laz hadn’t spoken a word. That was okay; both Ewan and I were alive to give statements about his attacks.

Classes remained on hold until the new chancellor arrived, so I had a few visitors. Astrid came every day and stayed until my mother kicked her out. Morgan and Belle dropped by, as did Ewan. He said it was his second stop after leaving the hospital. As soon as he’d returned to campus and learned I asked about a letter, he came.

“I got it a week ago. Slipped under my door, in an envelope with my name on it,” he told me, handing me the note.

Even before I read the words, I knew what they would say.

Round and round they go.

One by one they fall.

Will you be the next to hear my call?

“Any idea who sent it?” I asked, staring down at the typed lines.

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