The Damned (The Beautiful #2)(64)

“Who, goddamn it?” Arjun demands.

“Nor will I,” Lady Silla says, a furrow forming between her brows. “And you well know why. She is most precious to me.” The Lady of the Vale glides closer, past a protesting Arjun. “If you refuse, it is of little consequence. I will have what I want in due time. Soon I will send others to the mortal realm to retrieve her. But I prefer it to be you, for her sake above all. She will believe you. She will trust you. You will keep her safe. Where you go, she will go without question.” A smile blooms across her face. “Just like where she goes, you will undoubtedly follow.” Her fingers weave through a zephyr of wind, which bows to her touch. “And would it not be preferable for all involved if you accompanied her, rather than members of my guard, whom she does not know or trust?”

Anger floods my veins. It catches in my throat, the taste as bitter as bile. I despise her logic. But not as much as I hate myself for setting the wheels of this train in motion.

The Lady of the Vale wants me to bring her daughter here. Of her own free will. The option before me now is the best of the worst.

“Yes,” I say, hatred buzzing across my skin. “I would prefer it to be me.”

“I thought you would see things my way, Sébastien,” Lady Silla responds with a satisfied nod.

“Blast it all, what are you talking about?” Arjun shouts. “Which girl? To whom are you preferable?”

Behind us, the salt water starts to rise, the waves lapping at the glittering beach. The enchanted sea wraps around our ankles, taking hold of us as if it intends to pull us under. When it reaches waist level, we can no longer fight the magical current. It is impossible to remain upright.

“Ask the owner of the silver, Arjun Desai,” Lady Silla says over the crashing waves, her expression one of delight. “Tell him his lady offers him salutations. And wishes he would come to see her sometime soon, as promised.”

Her last word drifts through the air like a feather on a passing breeze. It lands on my chest like an anvil, its weight crushing me from within and without.

Promised. The owner of the silver made a promise to the Lady of the Vale.

Before I have a chance to speak, Arjun and I are swallowed by the water and promptly spat back through the fountain, landing unceremoniously on the blazing sand of an elegant street on the outskirts of Jaipur.

I sit on the ground, water dripping from my garments, my mind awash in treachery.

It is not Arjun whose betrayal I should have feared.

It is Jae.





CELINE





Celine glanced at Michael as they walked through Jackson Square not long after sundown. Loss had never been an easy topic for her. It was like picking at a wound that refused to heal. She searched for the right words to offer condolences, and then decided it was best to say what was in her heart. “Is there anything I can do for your family? Anything that might help with their grief, even in the smallest measure?”

Michael shook his head. “I wish there were. Antonio’s death has struck them like a battering ram.” He inhaled, then linked his hands behind his back. “I haven’t seen Nonna so upset since Luca’s father, my uncle, died ten years ago.”

“I’m sure they’re all in shock. How old was your cousin Antonio?”

“Twenty-four.”

“So young,” Celine remarked.

A bitter smile settled on his lips. “Did I tell you he fought in one of the last battles of the war?”

“No, you did not.”

Michael nodded. “It was the very day Lee surrendered at Appomattox seven years ago. The battle for Fort Blakeley, just outside of Mobile. Antonio was only seventeen, but he defied the wishes of his parents and went to fight against the rebel forces anyway.”

“He sounds like a courageous young man.”

“He was.” Michael smiled in remembrance. “He was also loud and brash and obnoxious. He and Luca got along swimmingly as children.”

They continued traversing over the pavestones at a leisurely pace. Saw palmettos swayed in the warm April breeze. The scent of rain hung in the air, smelling of metal and earth. “Have you managed to apprehend the person responsible for his death?” Celine chewed at the inside of her cheek. “Were there any clues regarding the identity of the perpetrator?”

“We haven’t caught him yet.” Something dark flashed in Michael’s icy gaze. “But we will.”

“I’m so sorry, Michael.”

“Thank you, Celine.”

She waited a breath. “I asked about your family, but . . . is there anything I might do for you?”

He looked at her sidelong. Wavered a moment. Then reached for her hand. “It is enough that you are here with me. Antonio was closer to Luca in age and experience. As such, I didn’t know him well, but I did feel a sense of kinship because he served on the police force in Baton Rouge. I remember when I told Antonio I wanted to be a police detective. He wrote to the academy on my behalf, and he was there the day I received my commission.” A wave of sorrow rippled across his face.

Celine squeezed his hand. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know, even if it’s simply to lessen the burden for a moment. Sadness can be such an unbearable weight.”

“I’m not sad. I’m furious.”