Page 46 of Chaos Carnival

“And check in regularly,” Lux added. “If anything feels off...”

“We'll let you know,” Tess promised.

I looked around at our small family: Stone with his scarcely contained worry, Lux trying to keep the peace. We'd been through so much together, survived countless challenges. But this felt different. More dangerous.

“We should go,” I said. “Get the apartment ready. Lilith will be expecting us tomorrow.”

As we said our goodbyes, Stone pulled me aside. “Maverick,” he said, his voice low. “Remember who she is. Don't let your guard down, not even for a second.”

I nodded, clapping him on the shoulder. “I won't.”

But as Tess and I left for my apartment in Crimson City, I could tell that we were stepping into something far more complicated than any of us realized.

Tomorrow, we'd meet Lilith in that alley off Bourbon Street, and whatever came next, I just hoped we were ready for it.

Chapter 20: Threading Magic

Tess

“Focusonthethreads.”Lilith's voice drifted through my consciousness. “They're everywhere, waiting to be woven. Every curse, every supernatural bond, every bit of alchemy— they all use these same streams. You just have to learn to see them.”

I sat cross-legged inside the circle of black salt and obsidian candles, trying to quiet my mind. After three nights of the moonlight ritual, Maverick's strength was returning, though the celestial poison still lingered. The past few days had been a whirlwind since Lilith had revealed the truth about wraithshades—how they used these fundamental filaments to bind themselves to hosts, the same way Susannah's curse boundmy soul to Maverick's. Understanding these connections was our only hope of breaking both.

She'd shown up at Maverick's Crimson City apartment dressed in designer clothes and trailing a whiff of brimstone, her Louis Vuitton luggage materializing beside her. Her first words weren't about wraithshades or curses, but about webs and veins—the building blocks of all magic.

“Your mind is wandering again,” Lilith chided. “The strands don't respond to scattered thoughts. If you can't even see them, how do you expect to understand the bonds that hold you? Or break the ones that hold your friend?”

I took a deep breath, pushing away the memory of her critical assessment of the apartment:“Quaint, I suppose, for a seraph trying to play human.”She'd immediately rearranged the guest room into something more to her tastes, manifesting dark, red wine-colored silk sheets, black candles, and various occult items in what had once been a simple spare bedroom.

I huffed in frustration, uncrossing and recrossing my legs on the hardwood floor. The black salt circle around me felt stifling. It seemed like no matter how hard I strained to see these lines, all I saw was the inside of my eyelids.

“Perhaps if you stopped mansplaining magic to her, she might actually learn something,” Oscar's crystalline voice cut through the tension. After escaping Ivan's carnival, we'd retrieved him from Lux, who'd kept the crystal skull safe in his backpack at the safehouse. The skull sat on Maverick's kitchen counter, somehow managing to look smug despite being made of crystal. Having Oscar's acerbic commentary back felt strangely normal, like reclaiming a piece of my old life.

Lilith's perfect eyebrow arched. “I wondered when you'd next grace us with your wit.”

“My dear, your teaching methods are about as effective as a temperance lecture at an Irish wake.”

I bit back a laugh as Lilith's eyes narrowed at the skull.

“And what would you know about the fundamental threads of fate?” she asked. “Most can't even perceive them, let alone understand how they bind wraithshades to hosts or souls across lifetimes.”

“More than you might think. I spent considerable time in Paris's occult circles. Though I must say, their demon-summoning parties were rather tame compared to some of my Saturday soirées.”

“Oscar,” I warned, though I couldn't keep the amusement from my voice. I took a deep breath and tried to focus again. Time wasn't on our side, and understanding these weavings was our only hope of breaking both bonds.

“Better,” Lilith murmured as another thread responded to my call. It curled around my ribs like a boa constrictor, squeezing until the boundary between magic and bone became uncomfortably blurred. “Your hybrid nature makes you uniquely suited to be a conduit.”

The sounds of Crimson City faded away—the constant hum of traffic, the distant sirens, the bass from the car outside two blocks over. But the protection thread didn't just weave a barrier. It threaded itself through my flesh first, using my own body as a pillar. Each pulse of purple energy sent shivers through my body, rearranging something fundamental about my physical form. It felt like my humanity being slowly unknitted, replaced by something older and stranger.

“Don't fight it,” Lilith instructed as I gasped, watching my fingertips temporarily become transparent, showing the strands weaving through my skin like glowing sutures. “This is why Baphomet found you so interesting, caught between worlds as you are.”

The first few days had been tense, with Maverick watching Lilith's every move like a hawk while she lectured us onwraithshades and soul curses, between making snide comments about mortal amenities. But gradually, a routine had emerged. Thread-weaving lessons in the morning, supernatural theory in the afternoon, and evenings spent analyzing the patterns that bound both wraithshade and curse while Lilith sipped expensive wine and filled in the gaps in our knowledge of demon arcana.

“Even I can see them forming in your mind,” Lilith said, her voice taking on that eldritch echo she got when using her powers. “Do it now, reach for them. These are the same threads that bind Ivan's wraithshade to him, that tie your soul to Maverick's. They're like silk ribbons floating in water. You just have to...”

I saw it then. Or rather, felt it. Lines of countless colors, textures, and thicknesses swirling all around me. Some fizzed with the same dark energy I'd sensed from Ivan's wraithshade. Others shimmered with the familiar resonance of my soul bond to Maverick.

They responded to my attention, dancing just out of reach.

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