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
Gwen hugged her back, something desperate around the edge. “Can’t exactly blame you.”
“I’m going to be mad at you for ages. Possibly forever.”
“Probably fair,” Gwen agreed, as her arms tightened around Jade.
Arthur looked at Ellis, blood smeared on his face from Arthur’s blows. “You’re still bleeding,” he started.
But Ellis waved him quiet. “It’ll heal. I’ve done you dirtier than this, and I wasn’t under blood magic,” he said. “Maybe we call it square?”
Arthur swallowed. “Give me time,” he said, tightly but not meanly.
Rory had a lump in his throat. The tenseness in Arthur, the visible pain, hurt Rory worse than any of his own scrapes or bruises. He moved behind Jade and Zhang to Arthur’s side and put a hand lightly on his arm.
Arthur flinched.
Rory drew his hand away as fast as he could. “Sorry, so sorry, I didn’t—”
“You didn’t,” Arthur said quickly, with so much emotion in his voice that Rory’s throat tightened. “You didn’t do a single thing wrong. You are so innocent in all of this, and I can’t—I didn’t—you’re fine.”
Rory bit his lip. “I was gonna ask if your aura’s all right.”
Arthur shrugged helplessly. “Everything about me is so very far from all right.” He ran a hand through his own hair, the normally perfect strands a disaster. His tuxedo was a disaster too, mud stained, dusty, and worst of all, the white shirt covered in blood.
Rory had so much he wanted to say. But they were surrounded by friends and enemies and whatever Gwen and Ellis were, so instead of words, he reached for Arthur’s hand. Arthur’s fingers were cold, his palm clammy, and Rory held on with his warmer one.
He looked back at the others, and found Gwen’s eyes on them.
“So what happens to Zeppler now?” Jade said.
Gwen shook her head as if clearing it, then turned to Jade. “I was thinking we’d give him to the French police.”
Jade raised an eyebrow.
“He has no magic left in him, and as long as you keep that ring away from him, he won’t be a paranormal anymore,” said Gwen. “He’s wanted for several murders in France alone. He murdered Mr. Zhang’s friend ten years ago, and we have Becker and Chance’s bodies that we can blame on him tonight. Let the mundane police have him.”
“You don’t want to torture him to death?” Arthur said tightly. “Because I spent mere hours in his company, and I do.”
“I admit, it is tempting to take him out into the Channel and see just what I can make the ocean do.” Gwen was staring down at Zeppler. “But no. Let him spend his life in prison without his magic.”
“And the guards?”