Blood & Honey

Jean Luc spat blood. “Magic.”

Every eye in the vicinity turned to Lou. She paled.

“I can heal him.” Coco lifted her head from Lou’s shoulders. Her eyes were glazed. Pained. “Bring him here.”

“No.” I stepped in front of them, and Blaise snarled. “Peace, Blaise. I—I can heal your son.” Reaching into my pocket, I withdrew the vial of blood and honey.

A ghost of a smile touched Coco’s lips. She nodded. “His injuries are internal. He needs to drink it.”

Blaise didn’t stop me when I approached. He didn’t halt my wrist when I lifted the vial to Terrance’s lips.

“Drink,” I urged, tipping the liquid down the boy’s throat. He struggled weakly against me, but Blaise held him firm. When he swallowed the last of it, we all waited. Even Jean Luc. He watched with an expression of fascination and disgust as Terrance’s breathing grew stronger. As the color returned to his cheeks. One by one, the bones of his ribs snapped back into their proper places. Though he gasped in pain, Blaise stroked his hair, whispering comforts.

Tears poured down the old man’s cheeks.

“Père?” Terrance’s eyes fluttered open, and Blaise wept harder.

“Yes, son. I am here.”

The boy groaned. “The witch, she—”

“Will not be harmed,” I finished. Blaise and I locked eyes. After a tense moment, he dipped his chin in a nod.

“You have saved my son’s life, Reid Diggory. I am indebted to you.”

“No. I am indebted to you.” My gaze dropped to Terrance, and my gut twisted once more. “I know it changes nothing, but I am sorry. Truly. I wish—” I swallowed hard and looked away. Lou clutched my hand. “I wish I could bring Adrien back.”

“Oh, good Lord.” Jean Luc rolled his eyes and motioned to the Chasseurs from his position on the ground. “I’ve heard enough. Round them all up—even the Beast. They can bond in the Tower dungeon before they burn.” He turned his glare on Lou. “Kill that one now.”

Blaise’s lip curled. He stepped beside me, and the wolves stepped beside him. Growls built deep in their throats. Their hackles rose. I drew my own knives, as did Ansel, and though her face was still pale, Lou lifted her free hand. The other supported Coco. “I think not,” Blaise said.

Beau sauntered in front of us. “Consider me on their side. And as my father isn’t here to throw his weight, I’ll speak for him too. Which means . . . I outrank you.” He grinned and nodded curtly to the Chasseurs. “Stand down, men. That’s an order.”

Jean Luc glared at him, trembling with rage. “They don’t answer to you.”

“Without your Balisarda, they don’t answer to you either.”

The Chasseurs hesitated.

“We have a proposition,” Lou said.

I tensed, wary once more. We’d just defused the greatest danger. A single word from Lou could exacerbate it again.

At the sound of her voice, Blaise’s lip curled over his teeth. One of the werewolves growled. Lou ignored them both, focusing only on Jean Luc. He laughed bitterly. “Does it end with you on the stake?”

“It ends with Morgane on one.”

Surprise stole the scowl from his face. “What?”

“We know where she is.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why should I believe you?”

“I hardly have reason to lie.” She gestured around us with his Balisarda. “It’s not like you’re in any position to arrest me now. You’re outnumbered. Vulnerable. But if you return to Cesarine with us, you’ll have a good chance of finishing what you started on Modraniht. Just think—she’s still injured. If she dies, King Auguste is safe, and you become the kingdom’s new hero.”

“Morgane is in Cesarine?” Jean Luc asked sharply.

“Yes.” She glanced at me. “We . . . think she’s planning an attack during the Archbishop’s funeral.”

Heavy silence descended. At last, Blaise asked coldly, “Why do you think this?”

“We received a note.” She bent to retrieve it from her boot. “It’s in my mother’s handwriting, and it mentions a pall, and tears.”

Blaise regarded her with suspicion. “If your mother delivered this note, why did she not take you then?”

“She’s playing with us. Baiting us. This is her idea of a game. It’s also why we believe she’ll strike amidst the Archbishop’s funeral—to make a statement. To rub salt in the wound of the kingdom’s grief. La Voisin and the Dames Rouges have already agreed to stand with us. With all of your help, we can finally defeat her.”

“We need your help, frère.” I hesitated before finally extending a hand to him. “You’re . . . you’re a captain of the Chasseurs now. Your support might sway King Auguste to our cause.”

He knocked my hand away. Bared his teeth. “You are no brother of mine. My brother died with my father. My brother would not defend one witch to condemn another—he would kill them both. And you’re a fool to believe the king will ever join your cause.”

“I’m still the same person, Jean. I’m still me. Help us. We can be as we were once more. We can honor our father together.”

He stared at me a beat.

Then he punched me in the face.

I staggered backward, eyes and nose streaming, as Lou snarled and tried to leap forward, caught beneath Coco. Ansel and Beau stepped to my side instead. The former attempted to subdue Jean, who lunged for another attack, while the latter bent to check my nose. “It’s not broken,” he muttered.

“I will honor our father”—Jean Luc struggled to free himself from Ansel, who held him with surprising strength—“when I lash you to the stake for conspiracy. As God is my witness, you will burn for what you’ve done. I will light your pyre myself.”

Blood poured down my mouth, my chin. “Jean—”

He finally shoved Ansel away. “How disappointed he would be to see how far you’ve fallen, Reid. His golden son.”

“Oh, get over it, Jean Luc,” Lou snapped. “You can’t win a dead man’s affection. Even alive, the Archbishop saw you for the sniveling little rat you are—”

He launched himself at her now, completely out of control, but Blaise rose up to meet him, his expression hard as flint. Liana, Terrance, and a handful of others closed in behind him. Some bared their teeth, incisors sharp and gleaming. Others shifted their eyes yellow. “I have offered Reid Diggory and his companions sanctuary,” Blaise said, voice steady. Calm. “Leave now in peace, or do not leave at all.”

Lou shook her head vehemently, eyes wide. “Blaise, no. They can’t leave—”

Jean Luc swiped at her. “Give me my Balisarda—”

The wolves around us growled in agitation. In anticipation.

“Captain . . .” A Chasseur I didn’t recognize touched Jean Luc’s elbow. “Perhaps we should go.”

“I will not leave without—”

“Yes,” Blaise said, lifting a hand to his wolves. They pressed closer. Too close now. Close enough to bite. To kill. Their snarls multiplied to a din. “You will.”

The Chasseurs needed no further encouragement. Eyes darting, they seized Jean Luc before he could damn them all. Though he roared his protests, they pulled him backward. They kept pulling. His shouts echoed through the trees even after they’d disappeared.

Lou whirled to face Blaise. “What have you done?”

“I have saved you.”

“No.” Lou stared at him in horror. “You let them go. You let them go after we told them our plan. They know now we’re traveling to Cesarine. They know we’re planning to visit the king. If Jean Luc tips him off, Auguste will arrest us the moment we step foot in the castle.”

Grimacing, Coco readjusted her arm on Lou’s shoulders. “She’s right. Auguste won’t want to listen. We’ve just lost the element of surprise.”

“Maybe”—Lou’s eyes swept the pack—“maybe if we show up in numbers, we can make him listen.”

But Blaise shook his head. “Your fight is not our fight. Reid Diggory saved my second son after taking the life of my first. He has fulfilled his debt. My kin will no longer hunt him, and you will leave our homeland in peace. I do not owe him an alliance. I do not owe him anything.”

Lou stabbed the air with her finger. “That’s horseshit, and you know it—”

His eyes narrowed. “After what you’ve done, be grateful I do not demand your blood, Louise le Blanc.”

“He’s right.” I took her hand in mine, squeezing gently when she opened her mouth to argue. “And we need to leave now if we have any hope of beating Jean Luc to Cesarine.”

“What? But—”

“Wait.” To my surprise, Liana stepped forward. She’d set her chin in a determined expression. “You may owe him nothing, Père, but he saved my brother’s life. I owe him everything.”

“As do I.” Terrance joined her. Though young, his flinty countenance reflected his father’s as he nodded in my direction. He didn’t make eye contact. “We will join you.”