Page 102 of Her Dreadful Will
Damn. Not that she wanted to see the bastard anyway, but—
Another thought struck her.
Who did Florence let into the house?
That morning, Soleil had tried to use Florence as a channel to Achan, since he wouldn’t answer any more of her texts; but Florence claimed he wasn’t in her head at the moment. “I’m not a damn phone,” she said irritably, and bit into the honey-laden English muffin Soleil had prepared for her.
Florence’s daughters still hadn’t returned any of their mother’s calls, but maybe they had received the voicemails she left. Maybe they had finally decided they cared, and had come to visit. Maybe the strange car belonged to one of them.
Soleil ran her thumb across the array of rings on her right hand—an array which now included the blood-drenched ring of La Voisin. Whoever it was, whatever they wanted, she was equipped to handle it.
Soleil swept into the house, anxiety rising into her throat.
The person sitting in the living room with Florence—the person who rose from the couch with a smile like a movie star—it was—
“Tarek,” Soleil breathed, and flung herself at him.
His arms engulfed her, squeezing until she was laughing and breathless. While he hugged her, she slipped La Voisin’s ring off her finger; and when she backed away, she tucked it into the pocket of her jeans, hoping he hadn’t noticed it.
“When did you get here?” she exclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”
“I wanted to surprise you.” Another squeeze.
“Your hair is so much longer!” She fluffed the silky dark curls hanging past his shoulders. “How’s Devon?”
“He’s great. A little too worried about wedding details, but that’s to be expected, right?” He laughed loudly.
Soleil laughed, too, but her merriment ebbed when she realized she couldn’t feel Tarek’s volisphere. Not that she would ever have interfered with his will, or his mind. She never had, not even when she’d been pining for him in college. It was a line she had vowed never to cross with him, and her promise had always been enough.
“I trust you, chickadee,” he’d say, with a squeeze of her shoulder.
Apparently that trust wasn’t enough anymore. She could hear the distant murmur of his volisphere, shielded against her, probably with a mandala similar to Achan’s.
“I’ve been chatting with your friend here.” Tarek’s wide smile showed exquisite white teeth. “So kind of you to take in your neighbor while her house is being fumigated. But—” he lowered his voice; “—is there somewhere else we can talk?”
“Go ahead,” said Florence from the couch. “I can’t hear my show with you two jabbering, anyway. Go on in the other room.”
Soleil beckoned for Tarek to follow her into the workroom. He scanned the space, taking in the animal skulls, the glass bottles, the charts and prints on the walls. Then his gaze snapped back to Soleil. His eyes had the same golden-brown shine as always, but she thought they were a trace sharper than they used to be.
“How are you, chickadee?” he asked. “You look good. Better than I thought you’d be, with all the magic you’ve been expending.”
Soleil cocked her head. “How would you know what magic I’ve been expending?”
“Your reports and notes, the ones you store on the Institute’s cloud server. In addition to my other work for the Convocation, I’m one of the monitors for the novitiates.” He grinned broadly. “We keep an eye on the newbies, make sure they’re doing okay.”
Soleil’s heart sank. “Those notes aren’t finalized or edited or anything.”
“Oh, it’s all right. None of the board members will see them until you’re ready. I just deliver a general report every couple of weeks. I have the match to your oath ring—it allows me to track your input and output of magical energy. I have to say, yours has delivered some very dramatic readings lately. And then it stopped transmitting altogether.” His grin never faltered, but his eyes burrowed into Soleil’s. She angled herself away from him, under the pretext of rearranging the bottles on the windowsill.
“And you came all the way to Wonderland, Georgia to check on me? To make sure I’m okay, that I’m not overusing my magic?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” He ran a finger along the magpie skull and blew off the light dust it collected. “We’re friends, chickadee.”
“Of course we are. But you and I both know you wouldn’t travel here from London just to see if my radiance is at healthy levels. Drop the act, Tarek. Why are you really here?”
The smile vanished from Tarek’s lips. “The ring of La Voisin. I hear you haven’t turned it in to the Convocation yet.”
Soleil’s mouth went dry, but she held his gaze this time. “I bought it. It’s mine.”
