Page 11 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 2

“Absolutely not,” I said sharply. “Evangeline hasn’t even had a full day to recover from her imprisonment. And her torture, I might add, which I believe you know plenty about. You want her to go straight into one of the most highly secured buildings in the city without so much as a chance to rest?”

“Gabriel.” Evangeline’s voice was tense, cold. “I don’t need you to decide what I’m capable of.”

I grimaced.

“The facts are pretty simple,” she said. “I’m a time bomb. The only way to defuse me is to get into that vault as quickly as possible. We need to take the chance while we still have it.”

“At least let me contact our people for help,” I said, more pleadingly than I would have liked. “Someone who knows about magical injuries should take a look at you before we go charging head-first into danger.”

“I’m—” Evangeline started, then bit off whatever she was going to say and sighed. Something in her face had gone a touch softer and more open at the words ‘our people.’ “Fine. Fine.”

“Thank you.” Concern twisted in my mind. Evangeline had slid into cold frustration so quickly. How much of that was the curse? Was it rising back up faster than she was admitting? I got the sense that asking if she was mad at me because of the curse would go over about as well as asking if it was because of PMS. Out of self-preservation, I held my tongue.

“Is there…” Evangeline trailed off, chewing at the inside of her cheek. “When you said you’d get in touch with people, who were you thinking of?”

“I’ll tell Lissa, Theo, and Vic, of course. I don’t believe they have any particularly applicable skills for a heist of this nature, but they should be informed. I was also thinking I would reach out to Marcus and Isabella.”

Evangeline squeezed her eyes shut. “How is Marcus?” she asked. “Is he… Do you think he’ll, uh… Do you think he’ll want to help?”

I glanced up at Damien, uneasy with exposing Evangeline’s vulnerabilities in front of him. He was making a point of looking at the bookcase as though that gave us some semblance of privacy, and I could see his eyes flicking over the titles.

“Marcus adores you,” I said. We all adore you, I thought but didn’t say. “Of course he’ll want to help. I’ve been told that an excellent healer tended to him, and I’m sure if he’s made aware that you need him, he’ll be there for you.”

Evangeline’s expression was shuttered. “If you say so.” She didn’t sound convinced.

“Trust me,” I said. She looked away, and I tried another tactic. “If we’re working on as tight a schedule as the one we’re stuck with, we’re going to need all the allies we can get. People we can trust.”

Evangeline closed her eyes and sucked in a ragged breath, then nodded. She pulled herself up straight in the armchair and clapped her hands together loudly. “Okay!” she said, more like she was trying to bolster herself than to get our attention. “Okay, so we’re planning a heist.”

Damien looked back at her, grinning with a boyish enthusiasm I’d never seen from him.

“I’ve got a plan,” he told us, although he only had eyes for Evangeline. “And I think you’re gonna like it.”

5

EVANGELINE

Two hours later, I was at the door to Big Sal’s diner, bundled up in a bulky coat, with a scarf pulled up to my nose, and a beanie pulled low to hide my hair. It was cold enough that the makeshift disguise wouldn’t draw attention, but there were barely any people on the street to spot me, and the scant few who had scurried past us were focused on getting wherever they were going as quickly as possible. It made me both less and more conspicuous. There was barely anybody to see me, but there also weren’t any crowds to hide in.

“Are you all right?” Gabriel asked me. He’d also opted for a scarf to hide his face, although he’d paired it with mirrored aviator shades from my drawer of odds and ends that could be pulled into service for quick disguises. He looked like a movie star trying to avoid the paparazzi.

“I’m fine,” I said. “Just, you know, bracing myself.”

I took a deep breath, inhaling the musty scent of the scarf, and pushed open the diner door. The bell jingled cheerfully, the smell of coffee and bacon greeting me. The place looked the same as always, with scuffed black-and-white checkerboard floors and red vinyl booths. A young guy, maybe nineteen or twenty, worked behind the counter, wiping down the laminated menus with a rag. He was trying to make muttonchops work for him, and he definitely shouldn’t have been able to pull them off, but it actually sort of worked. If someone covered up his neck tattoo and got him to take out his lip ring, he could have been cast as an extra in a regency drama. The tattoo was a new addition to his look. He’d waited on me a handful of times when I’d visited the place, and I definitely would’ve noticed a technicolor swallow on the side of his neck. He straightened up when we came in, plastering on a customer service smile.

“Y’all can sit wherever,” he said brightly, waving a hand at the completely empty diner. “I’ll be with you in a second.”

I pulled down my scarf, and his smile changed into something more genuine. “Just me, Toby. I figured Sal would be here.”

Toby’s smile dimmed. “Sal’s… She’s focused on some other stuff right now. But she called me up to let me know y’all were coming. They’re already in the back.”

My stomach lurched. I’d wanted more time to prepare myself, but that clearly wasn’t in the cards.

“Thanks,” I said, and led Gabriel to the back room.

As soon as I opened the door to the back room, I heard the scrape of a chair on linoleum and had a sudden armful of witch. I recognized the distinctive smell: coconut, patchouli, a little bit of ozone. Marcus. His wiry arms wrapped around me, hugging me tightly with all of his stringy old man strength. Some of the tension started to drain out of me, and I squeezed him back, shutting my eyes. When I let out a blustery sigh, he squeezed me even tighter, like a comforting boa constrictor.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” I mumbled, and he pulled back. Behind his glasses, his blue eyes looked very sad and very, very old.

---