This Wicked Fate (This Poison Heart #2)(53)

Marie stared into my face like she couldn’t believe what I was saying.

I leaned closer, emboldened by the feeling that we were careening toward an uncertain end. “Don’t look at me like you don’t know how I feel about you. What the Heart has done to you doesn’t even matter to me in the way you think it does. I wish you could see what I see.” I took off my glasses and let them hang on the chain around my neck. “You are not a monster.”

Marie sighed as she kissed the side of my face and pulled me close to her.



We landed at a small airport outside Paris, where we were asked to sit and wait while Marie and Circe spoke to officials. They checked our paperwork, our passports, and then boarded the plane to check our belongings. My heart crashed in my chest as the pair of uniformed officials walked to the back of the plane. I turned to Marie, who was completely unbothered.

The two men looked directly at the blanket covering the cage containing the Heart as it beat slow and steady. They had to have heard it but they said nothing. The men did a quick sweep of the rest of the cabin, then returned to the front of the plane, where Marie slipped them both a thick envelope. An hour later we were back in the air.



When we landed in Istanbul thirteen hours after leaving New York, I didn’t want to do anything other than eat, take a nap, and get to Abana as fast as possible. I kept taking Circe’s moon clock out of my pocket and glancing at the hand hovering close to the waxing gibbous. Twenty-three days had passed since Hecate had tasked us with doing the impossible, and this was as close as we’d been at any point so far. But that left us only five days to put the rest of the pieces together. It didn’t feel like progress as much as it did a gasping, frenzied rush to the finish.

When we deplaned, Marie and Circe hurried off to pick up our rental car. I helped Persephone gather our things, and when they returned we loaded our bags and the two metal cages into the trunk. After we stopped at a gas station to grab water and snacks for the drive we set off down Turkey’s turquoise coastline.

The winding roads cut through rolling hills and took us past a mix of ancient ruins and modern beach resorts, sleepy seaside towns, and bustling cities. The coastline dipped in and out of view, and the Black Sea, like an endless expanse of cobalt blue, shimmered under the cloudless sky.

I dozed on Marie’s shoulder and woke when we stopped for gas or food. The hours slipped by, and as the sun set, the sky turned to fire—hazy oranges and copper. We arrived in the tiny town of Abana too late to do anything other than check into a small hotel and pass out from exhaustion.



Despite our travel fatigue and a mattress I was pretty sure was made out of concrete, we were up with the sun. We got ready and met in the hotel’s lobby.

“Keep your eyes up,” Persephone said. “We know Karter was heading here. He and whoever he’s with might still be lurking around.”

I nodded as Marie pulled her hair up and secured it on top of her head like she was ready to fight. I was more worried for the safety of anyone who might come at her the wrong way than I was for us.

“We have to find the Great Eye,” said Circe.

“This place is small,” I said. “Shouldn’t be a problem to find a big-ass lighthouse, right?”

Persephone flashed me a tight smile. “I hope it’s that easy, but something is telling me it won’t be.”

We left the hotel and piled into the car. We drove the length of the town, sticking to the coastline to see if we could spot the lighthouse. I saw a port with a bunch of ships bobbing in the water, some beachfront restaurants, but nothing that even slightly resembled a lighthouse.

“He was just messing with us?” Marie asked. “I’m gonna stomp the yard on his musty ass as soon as I see him.”

“He was musty?” Persephone scrunched up her nose.

I glanced sideways at Marie. “He was not.”

Marie crossed her arms over her chest. “Okay maybe not really, but I’m mad.”

“Understandable,” I said.

The text from Karter wasn’t the only reason we were there, though. Circe’s own research and what we’d seen on the pottery shard had led us to the general area, but it was possible we were in the wrong spot.

“Why don’t we ask around?” I said as the afternoon started to slip away from us. “I feel stupid asking if there’s a lighthouse, when obviously there’s not, but it can’t hurt.”

Circe shrugged, and we pulled over and parked on a street near a small blue house that had been converted into a restaurant. Outside, chairs and tables draped in checkered cloths sat under gazebos lit with white fairy lights. We sat down, and a short woman in a black dress came over, handed us a menu, and poured us each a small cup of espresso that made me feel like I could hear colors. Persephone spoke to the woman in Turkish, then turned to us to relay what she’d learned.

“I asked her if there was a lighthouse here, and she said there used to be, but it has long since fallen into the sea.”

I sat back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest to keep from screaming in frustration.

The woman said something that caught Persephone’s ear, and after another exchange, Persephone leaned toward us.

“She’s never seen the original lighthouse. It was still standing when her great-grandmother was alive, but that was many years ago.”