“Don’t tempt me.”

I leaned closer, brushing my nose against hers. Whispering against her lips. “Why not?”

Her eyes gleamed wickedly in response, and she wrapped her legs around my waist, nearly drowning us both. I couldn’t bring myself to care. “You’ve corrupted me terribly, Chass.” With one last maddening kiss—slow and deep—she disentangled herself and flicked my nose. “I’ll wear my mustache for you later. For now, we should—”

Then Coco screamed again.

I knew immediately this scream wasn’t like the last—knew it before a man’s body thudded to the beach, knew it before Lou released me abruptly. I reached for her again, drawing her into a protective embrace.

Because I recognized the man’s body.

And Constantin—an immortal being made of water and mist—was dead.

Coco sprinted forward with another cry. “Constantin!” Her hands fluttered over him helplessly while Lou and I treaded water in silent horror. Ice crept up my spine at his wide-open eyes. His slack mouth. The bloody hole in his chest. “Constantin!” Coco shook him fiercely now, clearly unable to process. Her shock, no, denial, mirrored my own. Constantin couldn’t have died—the melusines had cursed him eternal.

No one is safe here, Cosette.

Lou’s knuckles turned white on my arms. “How is this possible?”

My grip tightened on her waist. “I don’t know.”

When Coco continued to shake him, her hysteria rising, Lou swam forward determinedly. “Right. We can fix this. The waters restored him once, which means—”

I caught the back of her chemise. “Wait—”

A high, chilling laugh echoed over the cliffs, down to the shore, and Morgane le Blanc stepped from the path onto the beach. A dozen witches followed. They fanned out behind her in a defensive formation, eyes sharp and mouths hard. Resolute. Coco scrambled backward into the water, dragging Constantin’s body with her.

“Well, isn’t this sweet.” Hair gleaming in the moonlight, Morgane clapped her hands in applause. Her gaze flicked from Lou and me to Coco, who lifted a silver chalice to Constantin’s lips in a final attempt to revive him. Her lip curled. “You must be so proud, Josephine. Look how your darling niece frets over the guardian.” To Coco, she said, “He’s dead, mon petit chou.” She lifted her stained fingers. “Surely you know magic cannot live without a heart?”

“How—how did you—?” Coco’s voice stuttered as she stared helplessly at Constantin. “He’s the guardian. How did you kill him?”

Morgane arched a brow. “I didn’t.”

La Voisin stepped into view. A dark substance coated her hands. It matched the hole in Constantin’s chest. “I did.”

Coco rose slowly to her feet.