Aurora rolled her eyes. “I was wondering how long it would take. At least maybe now that she’s taken the edge off, she can relax a little and listen to some sense.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Rosalind said. “We were trying to take the ring off to see what would happen.”
“I get you. I haven’t ‘taken the ring off’ in weeks and it’s making me crazy.” Aurora sloshed her drink.
Rosalind blushed. “I meant literally. My actual iron ring.”
Aurora’s face brightened. “Thank the gods. Taking that off is the first good thing I’ve heard you say since I’ve met you. You’re going to let Caine train you, like Ambrose said?”
Rosalind tightened her fist. “It’s not possible. There’s something wrong with the spirit. She was on fire, and so was I.”
But Rosalind was almost starting to see Aurora’s point. With a demon lord hunting her, she needed the protection of someone powerful. Once she exorcised this spirit, there would be no more Caine and no more Ambrose.
Only the Brotherhood, who wanted her dead.
Her chest tightened. What if Caine and Aurora were right? What if the Brotherhood would never accept her innocence?
Aurora glared at her. “You’ll be on fire if you run back to the Brotherhood, but I don’t see that stopping you.”
“Caine already made that point.” She sipped her cocktail, which tasted of straight whiskey. “What is this?”
“A Manhattan,” Aurora said. “Except I forgot the bitters and that other stuff, so it’s just the whiskey.”
Caine’s eyes darkened, his body tensing to a predatory alertness. In a fraction of a second, he was at the window. “There’s a Hunter nearby.”
Josiah? Spilling her bourbon, she leapt up and rushed to the glass. She peered into the dim harbor walk, but she could see no one out there.
Caine stared. “He’s not that close. He’s prowling somewhere around Essex street, a few blocks away.”
“What if it’s my Guardian?” she breathed. “I haven’t been able to contact him. I destroyed my phone when I went through the fountain.”
“What if it’s your executioner?” Caine asked. “Or what if they’re one and the same?”
This was her chance to find out what the Brotherhood were thinking. What if they’d changed their minds, and Josiah had come to deliver the news?
She dug her nails into her palms. “I need to see for myself.”
“You must have lost your mind,” he said. “You want to show yourself to a mage Hunter?”
“Yes. I need to find out where I stand.”
He pressed his palm against the window, studying her. “I’m not letting you go alone. It’s too dangerous. Also, I can’t risk you passing along information.”
“Fine.” She had no idea how Josiah would react to learning that she was actually living among the witches. There would be no way to hide it if he met Caine, whose entire body hummed with magic.
“I’ll have to erase his memory after,” Caine added.
“He’ll never agree to that.”
“I don’t need him to agree.”
She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “This Hunter could tell me what’s going on with my case. Maybe they’ve forgiven it by now.” If nothing else, she needed to know if Josiah might sell her out. She’d rather find out now than later.
Caine nodded at the door. “Let’s go.”
Running a hand through her wild hair, she followed him out his front door, and they stepped out into the cool spring air. The wind rushed over her skin as they stalked down a street lined with weather-beaten wooden homes.
Cringing, she cast a quick glance at her outfit. Ugh. She looked like some kind of vagabond stripper. “With all the magical spells at your disposal, I don’t suppose you have one that could mend a dress?”
His gray eyes roamed over her body. “Of course I do. But I don’t see the point. You look perfect as you are now.”
A blush crept up her chest. Of course he’d say something like that. He was an incubus.
They turned the corner onto Essex Street, and she hugged herself.
Maybe the outfit didn’t matter. There were only two possibilities for Josiah. Either he had faith in her, or he didn’t. If he trusted her integrity, he’d listen to her explanation—even if Randolph Loring and the rest of the Brotherhood wanted her dead.
Just outside a crooked yellow home, a figure prowled through the shadows. While most people wouldn’t have seen anything in the dim light, she was used to spotting movements at night. Josiah. She’d recognize those broad shoulders anywhere.
He’d come for her. A smile brightened her face, and she broke into a run.
Chapter 17
She wrapped her arms around him, but Josiah wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were too busy burning a hole in Caine. Josiah’s fingers wrapped around his flamethrower. “Did this monster hurt you?”
She touched her Guardian’s wrist. “Josiah. Relax. He’s been helping me.”
“He’s been helping you? A mage?” He spat out the last word like a curse.
Caine’s face registered only disinterest. “Not just a mage. I’m an incubus if that makes you feel any better.”