Page 10 of Better in Black
He pulled her to him tightly. The kiss deepened, and as it had been long ago, she could feel how much he desired her in the tremors of his body, his shaking hands as he drew her closer. And for that moment she lost herself in him, the familiarity of his mouth, the silky dark waves of his hair, his lean, strong body hot against hers. It was like kissing Will for the first time. She half expected to taste holy water on her lips.
And yet.
It was like kissing Will forthe first time.
When he had not known and loved her, when they were stillfinding their way to each other. He had wanted her then, and wanted her now, but want was not love. Even the way he kissed her, while it still sent sparks of pleasure through her veins, was not the way they had learned to kiss each other now—knowing everything the other person liked, knowing what would make them melt in seconds, what would set fire to their very bones.
Tessa drew away. Will looked down at her, his blue eyes dazed. “Tessa…”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It’s like kissing a stranger.”
He plunged his white-gloved hands into his hair and for a moment stood stock-still, staring at her, his face flushed but nearly as expressionless as it had been in the theater.
“I understand,” he said then, to her surprise. “And I’ve made up my mind. I made it up inside the opera house. I want my memories back, and I want them as soon as possible.”
—
The discreet brass plaque on the door saidace dupin, détective privé.Even Tessa, with her poor French, could translatethat.
They had taken a fiacre, a private cab, straight from the opera to the address listed on Dupin’s card. They found it to be a small and slightly shabby building tucked away on Rue Guisarde, in the Saint-Germain-des-Prés neighborhood. Up a narrow flight of stairs was Ace Dupin’s office. A thin strip of light showed under the door, but when Tessa knocked, there was no response.
She frowned, and knocked again. Still no answer.
Tessa turned to Will. “Do you have your stele?”
Will reached a hand into his jacket and drew out the shimmering instrument. He looked at Tessa inquiringly.
“Draw an open rune on the door,” she whispered. “Break it down.”
“Wonderful.” Will brightened. “I do love crime.”
He slashed the dark rune across the wood of the door, and Tessa heard a raised voice from inside. Too late for the occupants to hide, though—the door flew wide, and Tessa and Will stalked into the office to find Ace Dupin seated in an armchair. And opposite him, wearing a loud fuchsia dress, was Madame Dorothea.
Ace leapt to his feet. “Ahem,” he said, gazing from Tessa to Will. “It is excellent that you are here. I was about to arrest this criminal!”
He pointed at Madame Dorothea, who rolled her eyes. “Ace,” she said, and her voice was no longer the posh British voice Tessa had heard earlier in the reading room. She sounded more like an East End fishwife. “Give it up, Dupin. We’re caught.” She settled back in her chair, her eyes on Tessa. “What do you two want?”
“We want your help,” Tessa said, crossing her arms over her chest. “We need you to remove a spell.”
Madame Dorothea looked amused. “And why should we help you?”
“Because if you don’t,” said Will, “we’ll have to report your criminal behavior to the High Warlocks of Paris and London.”
“That’s right,” Tessa said. “They’re good friends of ours. As is Magnus Bane.”
“Lies,” said Dupin. “Lies meant to trap and ensnare us. Besides, you can’t prove anything.”
“Can’t I?” Tessa said. She turned to Dorothea. “Last night, when you were setting up for the séance in the reading room at the Meurice, I hid in the shadows and observed you. I saw your warlock mark. Hold out your hands.”
With a curl of her red-painted mouth, Dorothea held up her left hand. Centered in the palm was a single human eye, unblinking. Will made an unsettled noise.
Tessa went on. “I knew then that if you were a warlock, you must have used a spell to see into Will’s mind. That’s how you knew about Ella. It’s how you trick all your customers into believing you’re speaking with their dead loved ones.”
“It is a trick that relieves their minds,” said Dorothea. Dupin had settled back into his armchair and was sulking. “I am doing them a kindness.”
“Nonsense,” said Tessa. “I think you have the ability to see a few things—it’s how you knew about Dolgellau and the berries—but you certainly cannot communicate with the dead. All that nonsense you told Will about Ella being trapped between worlds, suffering—that was all lies, wasn’t it?”
“It was creative embroidering,” said Dorothea. “You really can’t go wrong withI’m so lonely, don’t leave me here.It works on almost everyone.”
