Page 58 of Premonition of Peace

“That ridiculous drink you ordered,” she whispered, her tone dripping with malicious humor. “You despise sweet. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the sudden exodus in the last fifteen minutes? Or that the child at the counter has told the last three people their coffee machine is broken?”

I shrugged. “Best I could do was hope.”

She leaned forward, her gaze piercing. “Out of all of them, you were the best liar. Always have been. Well, apart from Lucifer, perhaps.”

“How long have you known?” I asked. My tone was relatively calm, but my brain was scrambling. What would her next move be?

The Morrigan’s laughter echoed in the quiet. “Since the moment Sienna returned from her ‘business’ talk with you. She’s not as good an actress as she thinks.”

“So, why wait until now?” I remained steady despite the turmoil rolling inside me. I needed to keep her talking, grateful that the shop was finally clear. Even the baristas had moved to the back rooms.

“I was biding my time,” she said simply.

“For what?” Gods, I hoped my sister was still alive.

“You,” she replied with a vicious grin. In a flash, she transformed into a sleek, black bird, spreading her wings and darting out of the open door in a flurry of feathers. I watched in stunned silence as she vanished, leaving me shaken and alone.

I reached for my phone, my fingers trembling as I went to unlock it. I had every intention of informing Piper and the others. But as I scrolled through the notifications, my heart pounded in my ears and emotion clogged my throat. August’s name stood out among the missed calls and urgent messages and deep down, I knew why.

He picked up on the first ring, his voice tense and strained.

“Marcel’s dying.”

nineteen

NATHALIE

The bellabove the door slammed around as I burst into Señora’s shop, fear and urgency pushing me forward. Inside, the room was thick with tension, the scent of herbs and the faint hum of magic weaving through the air. As I came to a halt, I took in the scene before me. August was already there, cradling a limp and emaciated Marcel in his arms, his own face etched with worry. Lucifer stood nearby, his expression grave as he watched me enter.

“August,” I breathed out, rushing to his side and grabbing Marcel’s limp hand. The coolness of his skin sent a shiver down my spine, amplifying the fear gripping my heart. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” August replied, his voice steady but tinged with concern. His usually calm demeanor was replaced with an edge of panic, something I rarely saw in him. “Estrid started pawing at his door and crying loudly. She’s never done that if it wasn’t for food. I found him on the floor.”

“How long?” I asked, brushing a lock of hair away from Marcel’s damp forehead.

“I called you and the Señora as soon as I found him. Before that, I don’t know.”

The sight of Marcel, so lifeless, pale and hanging from his arms, was almost more than I could bear. My mind raced, searching for answers, or for anything that could explain why this was happening, besides what I already knew.

Marcel’s time was up.

He paused, his gaze flickering to Marcel’s. The dark lines of magic that usually sat beneath Marcel’s skin were now pulsing and vibrant, dancing in victory as if it won the battle and would soon consume its host. Cracks formed as if the magic were threatening to burst out of his body at any moment.

“I’m going to get Señora Rosara,” Lucifer announced, breaking the tense silence. He gave me a meaningful look before leaving the room. His usually confident demeanor was overshadowed by concern.

“Let’s get him to the side room. That’s where she’ll want him,” I said, motioning toward the back of the shop.

August followed me as I led him past Señora’s curious cats and into the small room that had been my own sanctuary during my eye surgery. The room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of lavender and sage, a stark contrast to the sterile environment I’d been in not long ago. August gently laid Marcel’s unconscious body on the long table, then stepped back to stand beside me.

August placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. His touch was warm, grounding me in the moment. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I couldn’t do more, Nathalie.”

Pressing my lips together, I nodded and swallowed the lump forming in my throat. This was it. I was no closer to a cure than I had been when I started.

I said none of that, keeping my eyes on Marcel, blinking back tears. It wasn’t long before Señora swept into the room, Lucifer hot on her heels. She barely acknowledged us, her gaze fixed on Marcel. She retrieved herbs and magical instruments from the shelves around her, creating a small circle of items around his body. We all stood back, giving her the space she needed to work. Señora tsked softly as she assessed Marcel’s condition, her movements precise.

The threat of losing him became more real than it ever had been. August kept his hand on my lower back, swirling his thumb and grounding me as best he could. Lucifer stood next to me; his arms crossed as he watched for my reactions. I stepped away from them both, knowing that if Marcel was ever going to have a chance, I needed to come up with some last-ditch effort. No matter how wild or unlikely, I just needed something.

Gods. Everything was happening all at once. The Morrigan was out there somewhere, plotting her next move. She wasn’t even hiding it anymore. I didn’t have the chance to tell anyone what had just happened. I couldn’t. I had more questions than answers, all while Marcel’s chances at surviving were plummeting by the second. Somehow, with all of that, he was all I could focus on.

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