Chapters (42)
- Cover
- Also by Allie Therin
- Content Warning
- Dedication
- Author Note
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Excerpt from Best Laid Plaids by Ella Stainton
- LGBTQ BPA
- About the Magic in Manhattan series
- Writing for Carina
Always here. Always your anchor.
He could have sworn he felt an answering sizzle in his veins. Because now, Arthur wasn’t an anchor so much as a walking wound, disintegrating in place, held together only by Rory’s magic—
He blew out a breath.
Rory slowly got to his feet, not quite meeting Arthur’s eyes. “The paranormals who made the original relics killed people to create them,” he said grimly. “But we’re not making a new relic, we’re destroying one, so we don’t need a corpse. I can do it with a couple donors of paranormal blood, some gold flakes and something like a farmer’s almanac. And all of you get out while I set up. No one else is ever gonna know exactly how this works.”
Alone in the room, Rory closed the balcony doors, just to be safe. He turned and stared blankly at the wall above the settee, at framed posters of cabaret performers he didn’t recognize.
Gwen told you about my aura?
We don’t keep secrets from each other. You told the kid yet?
Even deep in the siphon, he’d felt Arthur return, heard his deep voice from a distance as he talked to Ellis. He’d been relieved to have Arthur back—until he heard that part.
Because whatever Arthur wasn’t telling him, Gwen and Ellis knew about it, and it had to do with his aura.
Was it something Rory’s magic had done to him?
Rory rubbed his face. He couldn’t deal with this yet. He had to focus on recreating the ritual he’d seen in the siphon’s past while Ellis was still willing to part with his dagger.
Jade returned a few minutes later with a small bottle labeled in a language Rory didn’t recognize, full of small gold flakes floating in the clear liqueur. Zhang was the one who turned up a newspaper with the sunrise and sunset times.
Rory made Ellis stand outside while he let Jade and Zhang stay back just long enough for her to wipe her blood on the clock hand with the moon, and Zhang on the sun.
“Are you all right?” Jade asked with concern, as she wiped her bloody finger. “This is very old magic you’re messing with.”
“Old magic’s kind of my thing,” Rory said quietly, and she squeezed his arm.
After Jade and Zhang left, alone in the room again, Rory carefully set the solar ecliptic hand to line up with Jade’s sign, Gemini, and the moon hand to Zhang’s Aquarius. He fished gold flakes out of the bottle and placed them along the roman numbers for the night’s moonrise.
He went back to the door, where Gwen and Ellis were waiting on the landing. Their heads were together, and Gwen was saying something in a whisper so quiet Rory couldn’t make any words out.
“You coming, Ellis?” he asked pointedly.