Page 91 of Reckless Witch

“Sense anything, Stony?” she asks. The pig gives a low snort and Leilah finishes her walk around the circumference of the hole. “Who found The Shadows?”

No one answers. She halts and looks at us.

“We did,” Blade says.

“After someone else found this hole.”

It isn’t a question.

“If you’re implying that someone planted The Shadows, then, no,” Blade says.

Her head snaps up and her eyes lock with his. “You can’t know that.”

“I can,” he says quietly.

“How?” she scoffs. “Because the great Illumina told you?”

Blade releases a sigh. “Because I’m the one who found The Shadows here.”

Her mouth falls open in surprise. “No—”

He nods. “Yes. I’m the one who investigated Miriam.”

Chapter Thirty-Nine

LEILAH

Damn Fae

The following morning, I quicken my pace along the walkway and duck against the bitter wind that blows from whatever cold hell exists in the farthest reaches of the north. The air smells like snow, though I’m sure it’s too cold to snow. The Watchman at my side matches my stride, and I’m getting the usual stares from other students, but don’t care. Blade’s words kept me up all night and still ring in memory.

“I’m the one who investigated Miriam.”

The sense of betrayal, fear and downright fury have my insides tied into a knot even Grams wouldn’t be able to unravel, like those impossible knots in my shoestrings she dissected when I was a kid. Blade’s treachery is made worse because he waited until we were bound by a blood pact before admitting that he’s Grams’ accuser.

An accuser who might be right, that persistent voice in my head whispers.

An accuser who hid his identity from me and made me—

My thoughts come to a screeching halt. Oh, no. There is no fucking way I am going there. I do not have feelings for Blade. And if I did, he killed them by lying to me.

That big ass crater in Grams’ house isn’t Blade’s doing. Then, again, maybe it is. Who says The Three didn’t set up Grams? If they lied about finding Shadows in her house, they could easily lie about this.

But they’re not lying, and I know it—at least not about Grams making that hole. There might not be a trace of Grams’ physical body, but her energy lingers around that fucking hole.

What the hell were you up to, Grams?

A barely detectable movement in my jacket’s front pocket snags my attention. I didn’t have to coax Stony into taking the shape of a mouse. Well, this morning, that is. Last night, she was her usual piggy self when she took over my bed. I spent the night glad for her comforting snore.

For the thousandth time, my eyes burn with the need to cry. I can try to lie to myself that I’d be crying out of joy of having Stony back, but the flood of tears I’m working hard to dam are all on Blade’s head. Had I known the truth, there is no way I would have made a blood pact with The Three. They all knew Blade was Grams’ accuser yet kept quiet.

The blood pact.

God, what a mistake.

At least, the dragon’s sigil is gone. The natural thrum of magic I’ve known my whole life flows through me. But the warmth of dragon magic hovers like a specter on the edge of consciousness. The dragon, no doubt, purposely left some magic behind. The first chance I get, I’m going to demand he remove the remnants of his magic. I don’t need him. I don’t need any of them.

I choke back a laugh. Hard as it is to believe, Raith has been the most honest of The Three. He doesn’t like me and never pretended otherwise. Except last night. I’m sure I sensed fear and even a little tenderness when he demanded I comply with his safety measures.