Gods & Monsters (Serpent & Dove #3) by Shelby Mahurin

“My friend.” With another wave of Angelica’s hand, the waters climbed higher, and Josephine leapt backward, away from them. She moved with surprising agility for a thousand-year-old hag. “You would do well to respect her,” Angelica continued. “Though she rules below, she has not turned a blind eye to the war above. You do not want her as an enemy.” A peculiar light built in those pale eyes as her gaze turned inward. “Though it seems you’ve already displeased her siblings.” For our benefit, she added, “The Triple Goddess and the Wild Man of the Forest.”

Do you have a family, Monsieur Deveraux?

As a matter of fact, I do. Two elder sisters. Terrifying creatures, to be sure.

“All these years, I have watched you, Josephine.” Sadness softened Angelica’s voice, and the ethereal glow slowly faded from her eyes. “I have hoped for you. You think me a coward, but you are a fool. Have you learned nothing from our mistakes?”

Josephine didn’t visibly react to her sister’s piteous words. She merely continued to walk backward, her face inscrutable, her eyes burning like twin flames in the darkness. “There are no mistakes, sister.” She smiled at each of us in turn. “We shall see each other soon, I think.”

Then she turned, cloak billowing behind her, and disappeared into the night.





A Lie of Omission


Lou

I collapsed at Reid’s side the next moment, and Coco followed suit with Beau and Célie. To my surprise, Angelica knelt too, brushing Constantin’s cheek with the back of one slender hand. Unlike her sister, she wore her emotions proudly for all to see. This one looked akin to . . . wistfulness.

I gestured to the floodwater on the beach, both irritated and impressed. “Maybe lead with that next time.”

She laughed softly.

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.

“I—” Coco stared at the ground with ferocious intent. “Yes.”

A fierce sort of protectiveness pricked my chest at her obvious discomfort. Perhaps I should’ve been angry with her for never telling me about her mother. How many times had we talked about Angelica together? How many times had she chosen not to tell me? A lie of omission was still a lie. Hadn’t I learned that the hard way?

Nicholina had called it a betrayal. Perhaps I should’ve been upset, but I wasn’t. We all had our secrets. I’d certainly kept my fair share. Though I didn’t know why she hadn’t confided in me, I did know Coco had been six years old the last time she’d seen her mother. I knew she didn’t need an audience for this reunion. What she needed was time to process, time to decide what she wanted her relationship with Angelica to look like. To decide if she even wanted that relationship at all.