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Her reply isn’t a breezy one. My mention of Arden is as crappy for her as it is me. We both hate that he remains entangled with her family, but there’s no changing that. There won’t ever be.
“So what’s our plan?” My nonstop attention pays off when I see one brewing behind her beautiful eyes. “A second try with Hecate?”
She shakes her head. “Now that everything you said is connecting more dots, I think Circe is our wiser choice.”
“You don’t think she’ll try to walk us around it, like Morgana?”
“She might. But we don’t know until we try.” She rises and starts a direct path back to the bedroom. “They’ve all probably dispersed from lunch. Let’s go now. Maybe if we catch her alone, she’ll tell us the truth.”
I nod but keep more ruminations to myself—along with the deep hope that the truth doesn’t send us too far off course.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, we’re both dressed decently for semipublic view and heading out of the cottage toward the sala. Or so I originally think. A few steps clear of the front porch, Kara veers off to the left. Though I let her lead, it’s with a confused grunt.
“Circe might be in her cottage right now,” she explains. “After meals, Hecate likes to take a walk by herself. Additionally, a couple of little birdies told me that Circe’s addicted toHathaway Harbor.” She halts for half a second. “Sorry. I shouldn’t assume you know what that is.”
I toss back a smirk. “I teach college, beautiful. I know every daytime drama there is, including the important plot points and broadcast times.”
“Oh really?” Kara rolls her eyes.
“But by now, I might be a little behind plotwise. I wonder if Ilsa finally told Chase how she feels. Or has he dragged her off to the yacht and gotten it out of her in other ways?”
“Oh my God. I don’t know whether to be impressed or scared.”
“Well, if Circe’s on as many pins and needles about Ilsa and Chase as all the freshmen who use them for comparison papers, there’s a good chance we’ll find her glued to a monitor of some sort.”
But best of all, we’ll find the enchantress away from Hecate.
The conclusion is far from vilification. It’s obvious that Hecate cares for every one of her diamonds, especially Kara. Her maternal affection is what Kara’s needed for years. But I can’t ignore everything I’ve seen and heard since this morning’s weirdness, given the deeper layers yet to be revealed by Veronica and Arden’s intrusion.
I can’t help recalling the event as we walk through the dry leaves and grasses beneath stately oaks and eucalyptuses. It’s not the first time I’ve gotten the mental knock, and I’m certain it won’t be the last. Still, I push it far enough aside for some appreciation of our surroundings. Sunlight peeks through the branches in golden intervals, and there’s plenty of aviary chatter over our heads. The air is clean and camphorous. It’s hardly a spooky scene at all, so I blame my skittering nerves on the memories refusing to stick to the sidelines.
That has to be it…
So why do I continue to feel worse than weird?
“Hey.” I add some deep stares beneath low-hanging branches. “You positive this is the shortcut to Circe’s?”
Kara turns a matching scrutiny at me. “She showed it to me herself last night after dinner. Everyone uses it to skirt around to each other’s place. There’s even a small path here. They just decided not to put boards over it so the wilderness remained pristine. But look. You see it, right? Hey…Maximus? What’s wrong?”
“Stay close,” I order on top of her last query.
As I wrap her close, she startles against my chest. I’d feel vindicated about the moment, an affirmation that I’m not losing my mind, but the jump of her nerves just shoves my own higher. “You’re right. What’s happ—”
I yank her in tighter, wishing I could become her flesh and blood silo as soon as an oaky shadow starts to shimmer. The changing light reminds me of Morgana’s teleportation display from this morning, only it’s not the sorceress taking form on the air this time.
Our new guest is taller. It possesses two long, regal arms and braced masculine legs. A torso that’s proud but not broad. A confidence so palpable, it borders on intimidating…
Until it paces fully into the clearing.
“What are you doing here, Prieto?” I call out.
The incubus rolls his head with measured arrogance. I lurch forward, positioning as much of myself between Kara and him as possible. All the better for him to note that I’m not going to surrender my scrutiny anytime soon.
“If you think I jumped through the hoops of sneaking away from Veronica and then returned to Camp Witchy-Woo in my good Ferragamos just to roast marshmallows and bead bracelets, I’m terribly sorry to disappoint.”
I expel heavy air. “Get to your point.”
