Page 45 of Omission

“Maybe.” A giggle slips through me. I’m positively giddy. “If I fall, I need you to promise you’ll catch me. Don’t let me crash and burn.”

“Always.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Without further prompting, I unleash my inner fae and take off. The part of me that shares traits with humans has been at the forefront for so long, my powers and desires were hidden, so this is freeing.

And it comes to me as easy as breathing, I glide through trees with my fingers spread out, letting my fingertip caress each leave. I swing through a small cropping of wildflowers near a lake, inhaling their sweet scent while the cooling mist coming off the water causes my skin to prickle with goosebumps.

I lost myself on this first flight in years. I’ve never been happier, and my mate is responsible. He’s given me joy, security—and love—but more importantly, the time to discover each facet.

Most mates meet and mark within hours of meeting, but this thoughtful male is giving me experiences to build on. Like this one.

This is so special to me.

“Trusting you was the best choice—”

“Anaya!” It’s a whisper, but full of urgency and I look down long enough to find a group of witches watching me. More than a few, actually, and it’s my mate trying to get my attention.

He’s waving his hand, almost commanding me to land, and I’m thrown off by the emotions coming through the bond once I focus.

Anger. Betrayal. Doubts.

“What the hell?” My landing is trickier than the takeoff and I fumble, nearly colliding with him. I expect him to catch me. For him to laugh at the clumsiness, but instead, his hands grip my shoulders to keep me at arm’s length.

“Where are they?” It’s a growl, spit out from between clenched teeth with a command infused through each word. “Where are Bruce and Ruben?”

15

LEONARDO

FIVE HOURS AGO…

I’ve been aware of Ruben and Brice’s escape a little after four a.m. by a nightguard who’d found the door to their level unlocked and a trail of stench leading to the back exit. It stops there, just outside the rusted bars threshold where it vanishes into thin air.

Only five people alive know about this passage, and four would never release those two monsters unless they wanted to play a hunting game with their spouses. This leads me to believe Silla has an ally in my coven and they arrived yesterday.

The Rossi women aren’t the brightest to show up declaring the coven’s elder is missing, and while I search for the man, two under my nose vanish. It doesn’t take a genius to add up this equation, but I’ll play along for now.

I want Silla’s head.

For my family. For Roberto who’s had his life stolen from him.

“Do you have any idea where she can be, Uncle?” The man tilts his head to the side, mulling, but then he begins to write furiously. If you look at him now and the day Anaya saved him, it’s like looking at two different people. He’s less skittish and although the reintegration into our Wiccan society has been slow, I see the improvement. He seeks out certain members, Augusto and Anaya are two of those people.

The first is because they’re long-life friends: guilt that Augusto—we are all dealing with.

The latter, because she knows a part of his life no one else does: Anaya has his complete trust.

Turning the notebook in my direction; he shows me our first, real clue.

Marsilla is now the sole owner of a property in Neuilly.

The building is one of the most expensive in the area and only she occupies it.

She’s minutes from Paris, Leonardo.

Hiding in plain sight.

“Are you sure? Do you have an address?”

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