Night Rune (Prof Croft Book 8) Brad Magnarella (the red fox clan TXT) 📖

“Keep me posted on how you’re doing.”

“I will.” She looked at me intently now. “I’ve missed you, Everson.”

The quiet words arrived like a surprise blow to the chest. I glanced over at Bree-yark and Gorgantha, who were making garbled conversation between ravenous mouthfuls of their dinner. My neck warmed under the collar of my glamoured trench coat as I struggled for how to respond.

“I didn’t think that was possible,” I said at last.

But being cut off from her fae line probably explained why she’d seemed more human. Was it also weakening the bargain under which she’d sacrificed her feelings for me? As I considered the question, I shifted over, putting a little more space between us.

“I’m not telling you this to make things awkward,” she said. “If anything, it’s to clear the air.” Her hands withdrew from the table to her lap. “I understand that you have your own life now, but in the small reservoir that’s remained Caroline Reid, you’ve never stopped being special to me. I wanted you to know that.”

A part of me let out a little. “I’ll always consider you a close friend.”

“The feeling’s very mutual,” she said. “Just don’t ask me to cover your classes.”

When she smirked, I chuckled. “How about running the occasional interference on Snodgrass?”

“God, I almost forgot about him. How’s that going?”

“Better since he had me over for dinner a few weeks back.”

Her eyes widened. “At his house?”

“Yeah, his wife insisted. Turns out she needed my magical expertise. She also wears the pants in the family. I never thought I’d feel bad for Snodgrass, but seeing him grovel was actually kind of painful. He’s avoided me ever since.”

She snorted a laugh. “I wish I could’ve been there.”

I very nearly agreed, only because she had history with Snodgrass too. But though Caroline’s admission had helped clear the air, I couldn’t get too comfortable. Vega’s parting words—I trust you—were layered. She was trusting me with Caroline, but she was also counting on me to be cautious.

“Speaking of the fae,” I said, changing the subject. “Are you expecting them?”

Caroline’s smile turned introspective. “Back when I was deciding between remaining human or claiming my fae blood, I would take long drives, always at night. Not to think, but to get out of my apartment, my head. One night I might end up in White Plains, another in Edison. Places I’d never been, no idea how I’d arrived there. But the same intelligence that steered me to these towns, often dangerous shells of places, would always bring me safely home. This experience feels a little like that.”

Not sure whether she’d missed my question or was just being evasive, I said, “You’re listening to your faeness.”

She’d seemed to blur a little as she spoke, but now the lines of her face sharpened. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

I poked a small potato around my plate with a fork. “I’m trying to do the same with my magic, but it’s not saying much. The only hard assertion I’ve gotten so far is to come to the time catch, that this place is the key to … well, everything. The St. Martin’s site feels like the epicenter, the answer to all the questions.”

“That’s where the fae will be waiting.” It took me a beat to realize she was answering my question from a minute earlier. “One advantage of this mess with the time catches is that I’m much harder to find. But they know where I’m going to be.”

“And this mess will give them time to get there,” I murmured before gathering myself. “Listen, Seay and Jordan have half-fae and druids with them. By the time we arrive at the site, we’re going to be a small army.”

“A kickass one,” Gorgantha agreed between bites, catching the last part.

I was trying not to think about how formidable Angelus had looked debarking from his giant roc and striding up to me, power radiating from his green eyes and tossing hair. He’d had others with him too.

“What does your magic say about me?” Caroline asked.

Her pointed question caught me off guard. “Well, it’s yet to tell me to run,” I joked, a part of me wincing at having shown my hand. “No, it’s been in this contemplative state all day,” I hurried to explain.

“Do you trust your magic?”

“Generally, yeah. It hasn’t let me down so far.”

“Maybe that’s why it seems to be in an ambiguous place.”

“I’m not following.”

“It could be that it’s talking, but you’re not ready to hear what it has to say. But if it always leads you home…”

As Caroline returned to her meal, I considered her words.

Something about them resonated.

By the time we left the restaurant, dusk had fallen and gaslights flickered up and down the street.

I felt better as I stepped forward to hail a carriage. Better about Caroline, better about the uncertainty ahead, better about our chances. We also had a sound plan for Lazar. This wasn’t going to be another headlong adventure where we could only react to whatever the time catch threw at us.

A spiky wave tore through me, and I pitched to the ground.

“Everson?” Bree-yark said, rushing up to me. “What the heck’s going on?”

I tried to speak, but it felt like my guts were being twisted with a set of subzero skewers. I clawed at the sidewalk, panting protective Words through a fog-like scent of death. Hoofs clopped and axles groaned as a carriage pulled up in front of us. For a moment, I pictured a black hearse being driven by the Grim Reaper.

“Get him inside,” Caroline said.

Gorgantha lifted me under the arms and Bree-yark got my legs. Together they lifted me into the carriage. I curled beside the far window and clutched the drapes, praying for the agony to end. Caroline gave the driver our destination, Old Bell Tavern, and the horses began clopping us toward Broadway.

Fae magic we couldn’t spare stirred around me, and the gut-twisting sensation faded by degrees. Several more