Serpent & Dove -
: Part 3 – Chapter 41
“I’m fine, really.” I repeated the words for the hundredth time, but I wasn’t really sure I was fine at all.
As far as I could tell, the innards of my throat were only being held in by a hideously disfiguring scar, my stomach rolled from my mother’s abominable drug, my legs were numb from disuse, and my mind still reeled from what I’d just overheard.
Reid was here.
And he was a witch.
And—and he’d just said fuck.
Perhaps I’d died after all. That was certainly more plausible than Reid swearing with such delicious proficiency.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he pressed.
He’d completely ignored the bile spattering the ground in his haste to reach me. Bless him. And Coco—perhaps sensing Reid was a man on the edge—had handed me over willingly enough. I tried not to resent them for treating me like a sack of potatoes. I knew they meant well, but honestly, I was perfectly capable of moving on my own.
Admittedly, my head was spinning at Reid’s sudden proximity, so perhaps it was a good idea for him to carry me, after all. I wrapped my arms more firmly around his neck and breathed him in.
Yes. It was a very good idea. “I’m sure.”
Reid sighed in relief before closing his eyes and letting his forehead drop to mine.
Madame Labelle gave Coco a pointed smile. “Dear, I think I’d like to stretch my legs a bit. Would you mind accompanying me?”
Coco obliged, helping Madame Labelle to her feet. Though Coco supported a good deal of her weight, she still paled at the movement. Reid’s eyes snapped open, and he stepped forward in concern. “I really don’t think you should be walking.”
Madame Labelle silenced him with a scowl. Impressed, I memorized the look for later use. “Nonsense. My body needs to remember what it’s like to be a body.”
“Too true,” I muttered.
Reid frowned down at me. “Do you want to walk too?”
“I— No. I’m quite happy here, thanks.”
“We’ll talk later.” Coco rolled her eyes, but her grin only widened. “Do me a favor and get out of earshot this time. I have no desire to overhear this particular conversation.”
I waggled my eyebrows. “Or lack thereof.”
Madame Labelle scrunched her face in disgust. “And that is my cue. Cosette, lead on, please, and do be quick about it.”
My grin faded as they hobbled out of sight. This was the first time Reid and I had been alone since . . . well, everything. He too seemed to sense the sudden shift in the air between us. Every muscle in his body went tense, rigid. As if preparing to flee—or fight.
But that was ridiculous. I didn’t want to fight. After everything I’d just been through, after everything we’d just been through, I’d had enough fighting to last a lifetime. I raised my brows, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. “Couronne for your thoughts?”
Anxious, sea-blue eyes searched my own, but he said nothing.
Unfortunately—at least for Reid—I’d never been one to suffer silence peaceably. I scowled and dropped my hand. “I know it’s difficult for you, Reid, but try not to make this any more awkward than it needs to be.”
That did it. Life stirred behind his eyes. “Why aren’t you angry with me?”
Oh, Reid. The loathing shone clear in his eyes—but not for me, as I’d once feared. For himself. I rested my head against his chest. “You did nothing wrong.”
He shook his head, arms tightening around me. “How can you say that? I—I let you walk right into this.” His eyes swept around us with a pained expression—then fell to my throat. He swallowed and shook his head in disgust. “I promised to protect you, but I abandoned you at the first opportunity.”
“Reid.” When he refused to look at me, I cupped his face again. “I knew who you were. I knew what you believed . . . and I fell in love with you anyway.”
He closed his eyes, still shaking his head, and a single tear tracked down his cheek. My heart twisted.
“I never held it against you. Not really. Reid, listen to me. Listen.” He opened his eyes reluctantly, and I forced him to meet my gaze, desperate for him to understand. “When I was a child, I saw the world in black and white. Huntsmen were enemies. Witches were friends. We were good, and they were evil. There was no in between. Then my mother tried to kill me, and suddenly, that sharp, clear-cut world shattered into a million pieces.” I brushed the tear from his cheek. “You can imagine my distress when a particularly tall, copper-haired Chasseur walked in and crushed what was left of those pieces to dust.”
He sank to the ground, pulling me down with him. But I hadn’t finished yet. He’d risked everything for me by coming to the Chateau. He’d abandoned his life—his very beliefs—when he chose me. I didn’t deserve it. But I thanked God anyway.
“After I pulled you through that curtain,” I whispered, “I said you should’ve expected me to behave like a criminal. I didn’t tell you I was a witch because I was following my own advice. I expected you to behave like a Chasseur—only you didn’t. You didn’t kill me. You let me go.” I moved to drop my hand, but he caught it, holding it to his face.
His voice was thick with emotion. “I should’ve come after you.”
I brought my other hand to his face as well and leaned closer. “I shouldn’t have lied.”
He took a shuddering breath. “I—I said terrible things.”
“Yes.” I frowned slightly, remembering. “You did.”
“I didn’t mean any of them—except one.” His hands covered my own on his face, and his eyes bored into mine as if he could see into my very soul. Perhaps he could. “I love you, Lou.” His eyes welled with fresh tears. “I—I’ve never seen anyone savor anything the way you do everything. You make me feel alive. Just being in your presence—it’s addictive. You’re addictive. It doesn’t matter you’re a witch. The way you see the world . . . I want to see it that way too. I want to be with you always, Lou. I never want to be parted from you again.”
I couldn’t stop the tears from falling down my cheeks. “Where you go, I will go.”
With deliberate slowness, I pressed my lips to his.
I managed to walk back by myself, but my body tired quickly.
When we finally reached the camp, the others were preparing dinner. Coco tended a small fire, and Madame Labelle dispersed the smoke into thin air with her fingers. Two fat rabbits sizzled on the spit. My stomach contracted, and I pressed a fist to my mouth before I could puke again.
Ansel saw us first. A wide grin split his face, and he dropped the pot he held and raced toward us, enveloping me as best he could in a fierce hug. Reid reluctantly let me go, and I returned Ansel’s embrace with equal fervor.
“Thank you,” I whispered in his ear. “For everything.”
He blushed pink as he stepped away, but he kept a firm arm around my waist regardless. Reid looked as if he were trying very hard not to smile.
Beau leaned against a tree with his arms folded across his chest. “You know, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said we could have fun together, Madame Diggory.”
I arched a brow, remembering his naked chest shimmying in the moonlight. “Oh, I don’t know. I thought parts of the evening were entertaining.”
He grinned. “You enjoyed the performance, then?”
“Very much. It would seem we frequent the same pubs.”
Madame Labelle’s fingers still moved lazily through the air. The smallest trickle of magic streamed from them as the smoke disappeared. “I hate to interrupt, but our rabbits are burning.”
Beau’s smile vanished, and he leapt to slide the blackened rabbits off the spit, moaning bitterly. “Took me ages to catch these.”
Coco rolled her eyes. “You mean to watch me catch them.”
“Excuse me?” He lifted the smaller of the two rabbits indignantly. “I shot this one, thank you very much!”
“Yes, you did—right through the leg. I had to track the poor creature down and put it out of its misery.”
When Beau opened his mouth to reply, eyes blazing, I turned to Reid. “Did I miss something?”
“They’ve been like this ever since we left,” Ansel said. I didn’t miss the satisfaction in his voice or the smirk on his face.
“The prince had some trouble adjusting to the wilderness,” Reid explained quietly. “Coco was . . . unimpressed.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. As the argument escalated, however—with no sign of either party backing down—I waved my hand to reclaim their attention. “Excuse me,” I said loudly. Both whirled to look at me. “As entertaining as all this is, we have more important matters to discuss.”
“Such as?” Beau snapped.
Ass. I almost grinned, but at the ferocity of Coco’s scowl, I caught myself at the last second. “We can’t hide in this forest forever. Morgane knows all your faces now, and she’ll kill every one of you for helping me escape.”
Beau scoffed. “My father will have her head on a pike when he learns what she’s planning.”
“And mine,” I said pointedly.
“Probably.”
Definite ass.
Madame Labelle sighed. “Auguste has failed to capture Morgane for decades—just as his ancestors failed to capture a single Dame des Sorcières in their long and gruesome history. It’s highly unlikely he succeeds now either. She’ll continue to remain a threat to all of us.”
“But now the Chasseurs know the location of the Chateau,” Reid pointed out.
“They still can’t enter without a witch.”
“They did before.”
“Ah . . . yes.” Madame Labelle cleared her throat delicately and looked away, smoothing her wrinkled, bloodstained skirt. “That’s because I led them to it.”
“You what?” Reid stiffened beside me, and a telltale flush crept up his throat. “You—you met with Jean Luc? Are you insane? How? When?”
“After I sent you lot off with those twittering triplets.” She shrugged, bending low to scratch the blackened log at her feet. When it moved, blinking open luminous yellow eyes, my heart nearly leapt to my throat. That wasn’t a log. That wasn’t even a cat. That—that was a—
“The matagot delivered a message to your comrades shortly after our disagreement. Jean Luc was less than pleased by a demon waltzing around in his mind, but even he couldn’t ignore the opportunity I presented him. We met on the beach outside the Chateau, and I led them within the enchantment. They were supposed to wait for my signal. When I didn’t reappear, Jean Luc took matters into his own hands.” She touched the crusty bodice of her gown as if remembering the feel of Morgane’s knife sinking into her chest. My throat throbbed with empathy. “And thank the Goddess he did.”
“Yes,” I agreed quickly before Reid could interrupt. His flush had spread from his throat to the tips of his ears during Madame Labelle’s explanation, and he looked likely to further derail the conversation by throttling someone. “But we’re worse off now than we were before.”
“Why?” Ansel’s brow wrinkled. “The Chasseurs killed dozens of witches. Surely Morgane is weaker now, at least?”
“Perhaps,” Madame Labelle murmured, “but a wounded animal is a dangerous beast.”
When Ansel still looked puzzled, I squeezed his waist. “Everything that happened—everything we did—it’ll only make her more savage. The other witches, too. This war is anything but over.”
A foreboding silence descended as my words sank in.
“Right,” Coco said, lifting her chin. “There’s only one thing for it. You’ll all come back to my coven with me. Morgane won’t be able to touch you there.”
“Coco . . .” I met her gaze reluctantly. She set her jaw and planted a hand on her hip in response. “They’re just as likely to kill us as they are to help us.”
“They won’t. You’ll be under my protection. None of my kin will dare lay a hand on you.”
There was another pause as we stared at each other.
“You don’t have many other options, Louise, dear,” Madame Labelle finally said. “Even Morgane isn’t foolhardy enough to attack you in the heart of a blood coven, and Auguste and the Chasseurs would never replace you there.”
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Reid asked, frowning. The back of his neck nearly blended into his coppery hair, and his hands remained clenched. Tense. I coaxed his fist open with a gentle brush of my knuckle, lacing my fingers through his. He took a deep breath and relaxed slightly.
“No.” Madame Labelle swallowed hard, and the matagot rubbed its head against her knee in a startling domestic gesture. “Though it’s been years since I’ve seen him, I think . . . I think it’s finally time I had a conversation with Auguste.”
Beau frowned. “You would have to be a complete idiot to tell him you’re a witch.”
Reid and I glared at him, but Madame Labelle only lifted an elegant shoulder, unruffled. “Well, it is good I’m not a complete idiot, then. You will come with me, of course. I can’t just waltz into the castle anymore. Together, we might be able to persuade Auguste against whatever harebrained scheme he’s undoubtedly concocting.”
“What makes you think you’ll be able to persuade him to do anything?”
“He loved me once.”
“Yes. I’m sure my mother will be thrilled to hear all about it.”
“I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand.” Ansel shook his head in bewilderment and looked to Coco. “Why do you think we’ll be safe with your coven? If Morgane is as dangerous as everyone says . . . will they really be able to protect us?”
Coco barked a short laugh. “You don’t know who my aunt is, do you?”
Ansel’s brows furrowed. “No.”
“Then allow me to enlighten you.” Her grin stretched wide, and in the dying sunlight, her eyes seemed to glow brilliant crimson. “My aunt is the witch La Voisin.”
Reid groaned audibly. “Shit.”
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