Cursed: Out of Ash and Flame E.C. Farrell (100 best novels of all time TXT) 📖

Tapping the chair back with my nails, I worry my lower lip between my teeth. We don’t have a lot of time to waste. If we go to Shreveport, and that turns out to be a false positive, then we won’t have any more leads.

“This is probably a stupid question,” I say. “But you don’t have any other family who could help, do you?”

Max’s nostrils flare. “Nah, they’re all more dysfunctional than the cast of a telenovela.”

I wave a hand. “Okay. Then let’s start in Shreveport. Hopefully she’s there. Otherwise, we’ll have to figure out something else before the guild catches up with us. Or we get ambushed by another rogue hunter.”

“So, what exactly is our plan?” Max asks, rubbing his eyes. “Because there’s no way she’s going to give herself up. Not even to protect me.”

I grimace and straighten to pace in front of the bed. That, unfortunately, would make a lot of sense. If she’s been killing and hiding and ignoring her son for this long, convincing her to help clear Max’s name is going to take some epic levels of persuasion.

Or magic.

Those kinds of spells are difficult, but doable. If I could somehow slap Max’s bounty cuff on Aline, I could just take her straight to Iris, no problem. Obviously, her deciding to go quiet like for the sake of her son would be great, but I’m not dumb enough to hope for something so ideal.

In the end, sometimes justice has to be forced, no two ways about it.

“We’ll figure it out when we’re a little closer,” I say. “I do have another idea. Only it’s a little ... disturbing.”

Max makes a face like he just ate a swamp pixie. “What is it? I ask with much hesitation.”

“Do you still have the cookbook Joel gave you?”

“Not on me,” Max says. “It’s back at the restaurant I worked at in Houston. Why?”

I scratch my hairline with a thumbnail. “Two reasons. One, there is an extremely slim chance we could scry on him if he’s alive. And two, if he’s dead, we might be able to find a much more powerful witch who could use it to speak with him. I know it’s not great, and other bounty hunters have probably already tried it, but it’s another option.”

If Yaritza has already tried this, then we’re retreading already worn paths. Under other circumstances I could ask her but right now that’s not an option. With more rest and a clear head, I could come up with a good lie as to why I need to know but breaking the contract has left me on a tightrope I have no idea how to walk. It will be easier to simply test out this theory on my own.

“Ooof, no, it’s not great,” Max says, scraping hair out of his eyes. “You’re right about that. But it might be a better option than trying to do anything with my mom. We should definitely attempt that first. I might even know someone who could do that. Use the book to talk with him, I mean.”

It’s a huge risk. If we go to Houston, we might have to deal with his people, and they might delay us. But if we can somehow get in contact with Joel’s spirit, we’ll be in a much better position. And I might have more answers.

Tapping the toe of my shoe on the carpet, I slide my hands into my back pockets. “Okay. We’ll meet your friend first and see if she can help us talk to Joel. No matter what happens, I swear I’ll do whatever I can to make sure no other hunter will ever come after you again.”

11.

KNOWING MAX NEEDS A full night's sleep before he can water travel us any further, we bunker down for the evening, ordering in soup since he’s still not feeling up for anything too heavy. We sit across from each other, plastic containers resting precariously in our laps as we shovel noodles into our mouths with chopsticks and slurping broth.

Most of the dry cracks in Max’s skin have healed up, and natural color has returned to his face, but his hands still shake faintly. We’ll have to be more careful in the future, take more breaks or trade off transporting each other. Though I can’t carry him too far in phoenix form, I can at least take a bit of the burden off him.

My stomach tumbles when he smiles up at me. “So back to the question I asked before,” he says.

Food halfway to my mouth, I lift my brows. “Question?”

“The one I asked when we were in the car. What made you change your mind about breaking the contract?”

Sticking my chopsticks back into my soup, I drop my gaze, debating just how honest I can be. While at this point, I’ve basically thrown all professionalism to the wind, I still need to tread carefully. Falling for the mark will only complicate things. And opening up will definitely be a step toward at least some level of intimacy.

Then again, refusing to be honest will just be plain awkward.

Stuffing my face with noodles, I lift my shoulders, then let them drop again. “Your plight hit me right in the personal feels,” I say around my food. “I couldn’t stomach the idea of letting somebody else suffer for their parents’ crap choices. I had Hank confirm your story, and you know the rest. It was just pure logic after that.”

Max presses a hand to his chest. “Aw, it wasn’t because you started to get a little sweet on me, mama?”

I wad up my napkin and chuck it at him. It bounces off his forehead, then rolls onto the floor. He laughs as I try to give him a legitimate glare. “If you weren’t physically compromised...” I then jab my chopsticks toward his face. “Also, you better be careful, I might start to think you lied about using your water spirit powers on me.”

Max