The Cities of Dead (Book 3)

Chapter 4: Lost Soul

The threat of death only silenced Landry for about a half mile. There were only two neighborhoods until we were back in the French Quarter, but his commentary made it feel like we were walking across the continent. Especially because we were all considerably more uneasy after his confession. We didn't get to him fast enough. I wondered if he'd be able to live with what he'd done, if and when he was exorcised.

The memory of throwing the stake into Brigitte flashed in my head. That was different, Isaac.

Codi grew tenser as the guy repeatedly called him derogatory names, many of which I'd never heard but which were all apparently synonymous with pansy.

"So much for your calming powder," he said through gritted teeth to Dee.

"Well, maybe if our would-be Aether coven member hadn't turned out to be a backstabbing, power-grabbing, two-faced witch, she could have persuaded him to be quiet, and I wouldn't have to use the powder."

Codi's jaw clenched tighter. No one was forgetting that Annabelle's crew had beat him so badly he'd nearly bled out at the convent.

Désirée's pace quickened, her steps punching through the tense air. I never saw her get so worked up as when Annabelle was mentioned. Annabelle had tricked us all, but she'd been Désirée's best friend since kindergarten, so the resentment ran deep. I knew she felt responsible for Annabelle. We both did. Adele had tried to warn us, but we wouldn't listen, and she was the one who ended up suffering the most because of it.

My thumbs pressed down hard on my fingers, cracking my knuckles.

Annabelle was MIA. Dee had gone to her house looking, only to learn that she must have mind-melded her parents: Mrs. Drake told her that Annabelle had been accepted into an early admittance program at Vanderbilt for Storm kids and was in Tennessee for the semester.

All the Ghost Drinkers had vanished that night, including Callis. We didn't know whether Emilio had finished him off or whether he'd just fled, but it was hard to imagine anyone surviving that vampire attack. Emilio had practically ripped his throat out. We still didn't really know who Callis was. Of course, I was sure Nicco had all the answers. The only thing I knew for certain was that this all had to do with Niccolò Medici and his low-life family. A part of me wished I'd taken Callis straight to the convent when he'd asked about the Carter brothers. Not that I would have joined his ghost-sucking coven or anything like that, but they could have settled their business without us—without Adele getting into the middle of it. Without Adele's mother getting killed. Her mother was a Medici vampire. What the fuck?

"You killed my mother."

Adele is never going to speak to me again.

Landry had moved on to Dee with his commentary, but I barely heard it through the ashy haze of Adele's words. I hated that Adele was in pain. I hated that she'd lost her magic. I hated that her mother was dead . . . but Adele would be dead if I hadn't thrown that stake.

Dead.

Brigitte had tried to kill her own daughter!

That's how repugnant these monsters were.

"I should have known the Devil'd be a young black girl," the guy crowed, "with legs as lickable as licorice sticks."

Désirée flinched.

"What did you say?" I spun around and grabbed him by the throat.

"Don't tell me that you don't think about what her skin tastes like."

"You piece of shit."

"Isaac, don't!" Dee screamed.

My fist smashed into his face.