Page 47 of An Oath at Midnight

Because I knew all the places around this city where you could go undetected. “This part of the city, people don’t like to be watched. Most of the cameras have been destroyed.”

She nodded, believing me, trusting me. I kept my arm around her middle, keeping her close as we backed out of the office. She was trembling hard against me. Mags was tough as hell and incredibly brave, but this horror show was too much for anyone.

She’d been trying so hard to keep it together, so when her legs gave out again and I held her up, I pressed my face in the crook of her neck, so she felt me right there, skin on skin. “I’ve got you. We’re nearly out, just a little bit more.”

She nodded again. “W-who would do this? W-what kind of a monster would torture someone like this?” Her breath hitched. “No one deserves to die this way. No one.”

“I know,” I said as I got her through the next door and finally back outside.

She sucked in fresh air and, getting her legs back under her, pulled out of my arms. Pacing away on shaky legs, she bent at the waist, her hands on her knees, and breathed deep. I stayed quiet, letting her get it together.

Finally, she looked up at me. “What he must have suffered. What they all must have suffered. Margot…” Tears sprung to her eyes, and she squeezed them shut, shaking her head as if she was trying to shake the images out of it. “Goddess, she must have been so scared.”

I took a step toward her, but she straightened and took a step back. At times of high emotion especially, Mags couldn’t tolerate touch, but I was usually the exception. “Mags…” I wanted to pull her back into my arms so fucking badly.

“What kind of a person can just…take someone’s life like that, goddess, enjoy it, without remorse? How can they live with themselves? Who the hell do they think they are playing God? They don’t get to choose. They don’t have the fucking right.”

My gut tightened, twisted. Would she see me the same way? A monster playing God? If she knew the things I’d done, that I wanted to do? What I needed to do to stay sane?

I’d lose her forever.

Yes, the circumstances were different. Very. But it still amounted to the same thing. Me taking lives and feeling zero remorse afterward. Feeling nothing but relief.

“We need to go,” I said.

She let me take her hand, and I released a relieved breath. Touching her, feeling her warmth, the silky texture of her skin against mine, calmed me. She often sought out my touch as well, because it was the same for her. The reason for that was the same for both of us, even if she didn’t know what that reason was.

But I did.

No, I couldn’t make her mine, but as long as I had this, as long as I could hold her close, breathe in her scent, have her near, I’d be okay. It was ironic that it was her calming touch, her presence, that kept the violent need I constantly had for her swirling inside me, under control. Her touch made not being able to make her mine in truth bearable.

As long as I still had her, I’d be okay.

I just had to make sure she never gave up on me—that she never let go.

CHAPTER 12

Magnolia

Foxglove Funeral Home was owned by Ren’s parents, and the only mortician the witches in Roxburgh used. If there was a magic-related death, they took care of it. The last thing we needed was to draw the attention of the human police.

Ren lived in a small apartment in the basement, and his parents had a house just down the street. Taking the steps, I opened the main door and we walked inside. Low classical music drifted out from hidden speakers, and it smelled of orchids, and the vanilla perfume Ren’s mom, Sally, always wore.

She walked out of her office then and smiled brightly when she saw us. “It’s so nice to see you both.”

“Hi, Sally.” Bram and I used to pop over often and hang with Ren if he wasn’t at our place already, but not so much the last couple years. “Is Ren around?”

“He’s in the basement.” The phone started ringing. “Head on down,” she said and rushed back to her office.

I hadn’t seen Ren since the party at the clubhouse. He’d walked in with the female he’d left with earlier, after the mess with the council was over. We’d had to tell him Willow and the hounds had gone, that they’d had to leave him behind. The look on his face, before he’d shut all emotion down, had hurt to look at.

Bram opened the door for me and we took the stairs. Music drifted up, telling us exactly where Ren was. The mortuary door was open, and Ren was sliding one of the cold cabinets closed. I knocked.

He turned and his brows lifted. “Hey.”

“You got a minute?”

“Sure.” He was in jeans and a T-shirt and wore a black rubber apron over the top. “What’s up?” He undid the apron, lifted it over his head and hung it up.