Shaking my head and grumbling—her laughter sounded like a goddamn bell—I pressed my ear to Reid’s chest to listen to his heart. It beat strong and steady. When I checked his temperature, his skin felt warm—but not too warm—beneath my wrist. I lifted his eyelids next, sparking a light on the tip of my finger with residual anger. His pupils contracted like they should’ve. Right. I sat back in relief. He was perfectly healthy, just . . . asleep. He’d probably claimed Morgane’s consciousness to give us time to flee, sacrificing his own in the process. I only needed to wake him up. As I searched for a pattern to do that, however, I couldn’t quash my curiosity. Glancing at Angelica and Constantin, I asked, “Didn’t he betray you?”

Her pale eyes rose to mine. “He did.”

Coco didn’t look up. Tension radiated from her clenched jaw, her taut shoulders. She snatched my dagger to reopen the cut on her palm. Like me, however, she couldn’t seem to help herself. “And you still loved him?”

“You needn’t do that, darling.” Angelica’s gaze flicked to the wall of water on our right. In response, a thin stream twisted toward us like a serpent. It reached first for Beau, touching the deep puncture in his leg and flowing into his very skin. The wound closed almost instantly, followed by the one on his shoulder. A second tendril unfurled toward Célie, and a third stretched to Angelica. All of their injuries vanished.

“You see?” Angelica smiled, and my breath might’ve caught in my throat a little. I forced a scowl to compensate. “Do not fatigue yourself.” She looked again at Constantin’s lifeless body, her gaze lingering at the hole in his chest, before swallowing hard. The movement made her seem almost human. “But yes, Cosette. I loved him the way we all love things we shouldn’t—to excess. He hurt me in the way those things always do.” That palpable sadness crept back into her voice. “I am sorry he is dead.”

I am sorry he is dead. Just like that, she became something strange and foreign once more.

Coco’s hands clenched around Beau’s collar as his eyes fluttered open. She didn’t thank her mother for healing him. I didn’t blame her. Instead, I scooted closer, pulling Reid with me, and braced my shoulder against hers in silent support. She leaned into the touch, dropping Beau’s shirt as he sat upright. “What happened? Where’s Mor—” His eyes widened when he caught sight of Angelica. To his credit, he only blinked stupidly for about three seconds before turning to Coco. Then he blinked a few times more. “Is this . . . ?”

Coco nodded curtly. When her hand rose to clench her locket in a death grip, Angelica’s eyes followed, widening in disbelief. “You . . . wear my locket,” she said. It sounded like a question.