“She will—”
“Drop the fucking magic,” Connor ordered again. And this time, Ronan didn’t argue.
The glamour slipped away like the outgoing tide, and I breathed again, gained control again . . . and found Ronan staring at me, eyes wide, with absolute horror.
Even the monster was shamed.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ronan asked.
Connor turned on him so quickly, I barely saw him move. He had Ronan by the shirt, shoved him back against the wall. “There is nothing wrong with her. And if you ever use glamour on us again, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”
“I suggest,” Ronan said, his eyes like quicksilver, “that you take your hands off me.”
Connor’s chest was heaving, his eyes cold as ice, but he lifted his hands, stepped back. “How long until we know if she survives?”
“Not until the transformation is complete. Or it isn’t.”
“I’ll need to see her,” I said.
Ronan turned his eyes on me. “I believe you’ve done enough. If she desires to see you when she wakes, we’ll contact you. You’ll find the limo waiting outside.”
And with that, we’d been dismissed.
* * *
* * *
The limo took us back to the resort, but didn’t deign to drive into the compound. It pulled up to the entrance, came to a stop, and waited for our exit. We climbed out and had barely shut the door behind us before it accelerated, tires squealing in its rush to return to the coven.
“Let’s get inside,” Connor said quietly, scanning the road, and we walked toward our corner of the resort.
He didn’t touch me, didn’t hold my hand. And the distance knotted something in my chest.
“Get a shower,” he said when we reached the cabin. “It will help.”
I took his words to heart and dived into the hottest shower I could stand, letting the water pummel me until I’d knocked away some of the adrenaline and anger and grief. It did help, a little. But feeling like Connor was still on my side, that we were still united against the enemies we were facing, would have felt better.
I toweled my hair, came out in leggings and a T-shirt, and found him locking the doors as dawn threatened outside.
He looked back at me. “You must be tired,” he said finally.
“I’m exhausted,” I said. “How are you?”
“Same.” He sighed, and the sound was ragged. There was a lot on his shoulders, not least the pile I’d added tonight.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “For all of this.”
His expression was blank, and he offered no comfort, which was a slice at the edge of my heart, sharp and keen as my sword.
“So am I,” he said. “This isn’t the trip I’d had in mind—or the troubles I’d expected we’d find.”
I was afraid to ask whether he meant me or the monsters. But I knew, even if we couldn’t talk about us—or there was no us to discuss—that we needed to talk about what had happened. “You really don’t know what they are?”
He shook his head. “Based on the evidence, they’re clan members who’ve made some kind of magical change. But I don’t know how.”
“I can talk to Theo, Petra. Maybe there are sorcerers in the area or—I don’t know—a magical well.”
There was nearly amusement in his eyes. “A magical well?”
“I’m loopy,” I said.
“So’s Petra.”
This time, the reluctant smile was mine. “Yeah. She is. But she knows her stuff. She might just say that this is the Beast or—” I stopped, realized it was far more likely the reverse was true, and looked at Connor, who nodded.
“I just got it, too. Maybe the clan isn’t being attacked by the Beast of Owatonna. Maybe the things that fought us are the Beast of Owatonna, or at least the latest iteration. Maybe this isn’t the first time someone has used this magic. Hell, maybe that’s why the magic is broken.”
“All because of Paisley?” I wondered. “Her death seems to have been a trigger, maybe spread over the general unhappiness in the clan. The anger about staying closeted, about refusing to change. And Traeger is at least part of the who.”
“Yeah,” he said grimly. “And Traeger’s connected to Georgia, which makes this even more complicated.” He frowned. “Where would the magic come from?”
“Well, either something’s doing the magic to them, and they don’t have a choice in it—”
“Or they’re doing it to themselves somehow,” he finished.
“Can shifters do magic?”
“Not well,” he said, “and I mean that literally. We can do a little manipulation, but not much, and not well.”
“Which would explain the feeling that it’s broken.”
He made a vague sound of agreement; then his brow furrowed when he looked up at me again. “There could be trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“Ronan isn’t the only one with a chip on his shoulder. The clan will want to talk to us. If we’re lucky, they’ll wait until dusk.”
And if not, I thought silently, they’d pull us out of the house in daylight, and that would be it for me.
“It’s also possible the creatures will come back, will target us specifically. I’ve asked Alexei to check for trails, see if locations can be identified, to see if broken magic can be identified around the resort. And in the meantime, I’ll be listening. They won’t hurt you.”
But again he didn’t reach out, and that was another small wound.
“Get some sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow we’ll deal with what comes next.”
Having been dismissed again, and totally unsure of my steps, I walked back to the bedroom, closed the door, and sat down on the bed. And felt more alone than I ever had before. Alone and guilty and afraid that by trying to do something good, I’d screwed up something I’d never imagined I’d want.
I’d be damned if I’d apologize to Ronan or the clan for doing what had to be done. But I was an adult, and I understood my actions would have consequences, fair or not. Those consequences left a dark pit of fear in my belly.
Connor had said we’d deal with what came next, but that wasn’t enough for me, not with this. I didn’t know how to move forward, given what I’d done. So I pulled out my screen and contacted the one person I knew who’d been in my position before. Who’d changed someone because circumstances demanded it. And had dealt with the aftermath.