She glanced over her shoulder at Fenix.
That both of them could be free of it.
He didn’t look happy about her holding a conversation with Archer rather than attacking him. She had seen enough to know that attacking Archer wasn’t going to solve anything. He was too powerful.
“I’ve been researching mages… trying to find the one who cursed you,” Archer said and Fenix stared at him now, his green eyes widening slightly.
She caught the flare of hope in them before she turned back to Archer, her own hope growing stronger as his words sank in and something dawned on her.
“Is this why you’re always looking for information on magic and magic users in the Central Archive?” She searched his eyes, wanting to know the answer to that question, because it would go a long way towards restoring her faith in him, and strengthening the hope she had that she could convince him to help them. “You’re trying to break my curse.”
He nodded, tunnelled his fingers into his dark hair and snarled, “Shut up!”
He flicked her an apologetic look and she wasn’t sure whether it was because he had meant to kill her, had been using her, or because of his outburst. What was Aryanna saying to him?
“I do care about you, Evelyn.” His gaze implored her to believe him.
Fenix was by her side in an instant, scowling at Archer.
Archer sighed.
“Not like that.” He went to the bench he had hit, sank onto it and looked beyond her to the cottage and sighed as he removed his glasses.
Rosalind squeaked and Evelyn glanced over her shoulder in time to see the witch’s boots hitting the flagstones of the patio, and then Vail growled, drawing her gaze to him. The cuts she could see through the slashes in his black armour healed before her eyes, and then the tiny scales knitted back together, so his armour was perfect again. She looked at Archer as he casually cleaned his glasses on a small black cloth.
A little awed by his power.
Not that she wanted to swap places with him.
She would take being a cursed phoenix shifter over being a warlock with a sorceress in his head.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, an air of weariness about him now, and heaved a sigh as he sagged forwards to rest his elbows on his knees and put his glasses back on. “I want to help break this curse… but I can’t think straight. I wanted to make sure you didn’t forget who you were when you died. I’m sorry I wanted to kill you. When I came up with the plan, I didn’t know you, and I thought I would find Aryanna quickly… but years passed and I got to know you… and I came to care about you.”
“But you still wanted to kill her,” Fenix put in, his voice a dark snarl.
“Everything was moving so quickly and Aryanna was right there, shouting at me to do it, and I just wanted to be free… I’m not sure I would have gone through with it.”
He wasn’t sure? That didn’t fill Evelyn with confidence. There was a chance he would have gone ahead and killed her.
She muttered, “How sweet of you.”
Rosalind walked over to Vail, dusting off her black dress as she went, and grumbled, “Believe me, that’s more than I expected from a Crow.”
Archer glared at her.
“I warned you. I’m sick of the way witches treat me as if I’m filth on the bottom of your shoes… as if you all believe I’m a stain on the name of magic users and I never should have been born. I didn’t ask for this life! I didn’t ask to be what I am!” The air chilled and trembled, becoming harder to breathe as his eyes narrowed on Rosalind. “And you know what? What I am doesn’t change a damned thing about me.”
He pushed to his feet and Evelyn’s breath fogged in front of her face as he stared Rosalind down, contempt flashing in his dark eyes as he curled his fingers into fists.
“You witches…” he spat and Evelyn had half a mind to turn on Rosalind too and remind her about what she had said about playing Russian roulette with the spells in Archer’s mind. Antagonising him would only get them all killed. “You’re all just scared of us. No. You’re all just jealous. When it comes down to it, you’re jealous of the power at my disposal, and it’s easier for you all to cover it with scorn and name-calling than face the fact you hate that I have this power and you don’t. I’m not a bad person, dammit.”
His handsome features hardened, and Evelyn hated the pain that laced his voice, the hurt she could see in his eyes—the desperate need to be accepted. How long had he lived with his own kind hurling insults at him and hating him? Long enough that it had done some serious damage to his heart, that was for sure.
“There are mitigating circumstances at play here.” His fists shook beside his hips as he growled those words, tiny sparks of violet electricity coursing over them. “I need to get Aryanna out of there. I need to free her… before I lose my mind. There’s a piece missing. A way of freeing her. Something I need. Always a piece missing and I can’t find it, no matter what I do.”
He was rambling again, the darkness slowly encroaching to devour the whites of his eyes as they grew wild and lowered to the grass.
“Like a key?” Evelyn offered, hoping to regain his attention.