I grabbed the lifeline they offered. “Did you lose a little girl?” I asked, referencing the pale, amorphous figure I had seen behind him when I first opened the door to the shop. Rémy circled my neck with his other hand and lifted me until I dangled in front of him. My knees and chest bumped against the icy expanse of his body.
The mage’s eyes went wild. The emotion-whipped storm cascading over his features turned my joints to slush. “Find. My. Beloved,” he ground out, cracking the layer of frost creeping across his cheeks. “You have forty-eight hours before someone dies.”
4
Rémy deposited me at Kostya’s feet and strode to the door. He bashed the side of his fist against its ice-coated surface, sending cracks through the barrier. The door popped open from the weight of Beryl’s body. Rémy made a show of pulling in his chains and sweeping them in a circle, drawing every icy shard and chunk of evidence to him where it evaporated in an ozone-scented puff. Kostya hit the floor behind me. Rémy stepped over Beryl and clomped down the stairs.
“Clementine,” Kostya choked out. “Are you okay?”
I spun on my knees and cupped his cheek. “I’m okay. I’m okay. I need to check on Beryl.” My sister hadn’t moved or made a sound. I scrabbled to my feet, ran to the doorway, and rolled Beryl onto her side. Her eyes were open and she was blowing short, rapid breaths out of her mouth.
“That was…weird, Clemmie.” She took another moment to return her breathing nearer to normal. “I have a whole new appreciation for what it feels like to have ice in your veins.”
I rubbed her upper arm. “Can you move?”
“Yeah, I think I can. But I think I better stay still until I’m more thawed out.”
“I’ll wait with you,” I said, touching the side of my neck where a ring of burning cold throbbed. I could still feel the circle of Rémy’s hands.
Beryl batted the air behind her until she found my leg. “That was the mage’s magic, wasn’t it?”
“Yes. And I have no idea why he singled me out to deliver the message, but he’s given us a forty-eight hour deadline to find his beloved. Or someone dies. Those were his exact words.”
My sister looked at me like I’d suddenly sprouted a second head. “How the hell are we going to find someone in forty-eight hours that our mother couldn’t find in a couple of months?”
“I have no idea.” I extended my hand. Beryl waved me off. Shaking out my arms and legs, I turned to check on Kostya.
He was on his back, knees bent. Low flames played along the nubbed surface of his horns. The muscles in his arms and upper chest tensed beneath his T-shirt when he threaded his fingers through his hair and shouted his frustration to the two domed skylights centered in the ceiling. “Fuck, that was the most frustrating moment of my life.”
“I was terrified,” I admitted, touching my fingertips to the tender part of my neck. Kostya followed my hand, staring.
“What’re you hiding?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said. “It just stings a little where Rémy squeezed me.”
“Let me see, Clemmie.” Kostya rolled up to standing, nudged my fingers aside, then swore. “He marked you. The fucker marked you.”
“What do you mean, he marked me?”
“Did you see the liquid silver coils he wore on his first finger?” When I nodded, Kostya continued, “They have multiple uses. Branding. Tracking. Bonding.”
“Are they moving?” I asked. I wanted to throw up. “Because it feels like it’s alive.”
“Yeah,” Kostya said, his voice going almost apologetic. “They’re staying in one place, coiling over and over. And there’s nothing I can do about it. The good news is, it’s a spell that doesn’t burrow underneath the skin. The ones that do…” He blew out a low whistle.
“Let’s not go there,” I said. “Just help me keep an eye on it, okay?”
Beryl had been watching and listening from the floor. She sighed as she rolled onto her back. “I wish to Goddess Dad wasn’t always disappearing. He’s the one who taught me most of the basic spells I still use. He could probably fix that thing on your neck, Sissy. He could maybe even point us in the right direction.”
“Well, Dad’s not here and I need to be pointed in some kind of a direction because Rémy freaked me out and if I think about him and those icy fingers and…and this—” I touched my throat again. I couldn’t stop myself. “Us getting to work will distract me. Tell me what to do.”
Beryl grunted as she rolled to her hands and knees. “Okay, I think I have a plan. According to Rémy, we’re looking for envelopes with hair and bits of fabric and stuff in them. I’ll go through Mom’s desk and Clementine, you start with the table Rémy pointed to. Kostya, you’re tall. Take the shelves. Start at the top, open every roll of fabric, and work your way down.”
“That’s it?” I asked. An unstoppable wave of hysteria was filling my body. “That’s the entirety of your plan? What about the part where we never have to see that mage again?”
“Clementine Brodeur.” Beryl stood, brushed off her knees, and straightened the skirt of her dress. “For Pete’s sake, no, that’s not the whole plan. That’s the beginning of the plan. If Mom had left operating instructions, we’d be following those. She didn’t, so we have to start from scratch. Kostya, can you give me a hand here?”
Beryl planted herself in front of me and held my elbows. Her wavy, chin-length hair was a mess, but her lipstick was miraculously intact. Kostya embraced me from behind. “Can you give her some heat?” she asked. The demon murmured his assent and within seconds I was flooded with warmth. Platonic, brotherly warmth.
“We’re going to be patient.” Beryl made a show of
