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

Despite my pleas, Isla hadn’t woken him. She’d insisted she couldn’t intervene. I’d insisted we couldn’t rob Chateau le Blanc with a six-and-a-half-foot, two-hundred-pound, unconscious man in tow.

Truthfully, I’d expected him to wake by now. He’d been unconscious for hours.

Do not worry, Louise. His injuries are not fatal. He will wake—of that, I am certain.

My head continued to throb.

The others walked toward the gates in silence, seemingly oblivious to our rather giant problem, except for Beau. He threw more than one anxious glance my way.

I assumed he expected me to transform into the Maiden at any moment. I half expected it myself. Even now, I wasn’t sure how I’d done it, but I took care not to think too long or too hard about that shiver in my skin—that heady sensation of wild abandon. Curiously enough, it reminded me of . . . rooftops. If I closed my eyes, I could almost feel the wind tangling in my hair, my arms stretching wide, as I propelled myself upward, outward, from shingles into empty air. Exhilaration swooped low in my stomach for those precious seconds. Those precious seconds when I might’ve flown.

When my hands began to ripple, my eyes snapped open.

Beau still stared at me.

“What is it?” I snapped. “Spit it out.”

“Are you okay? With”—he jerked his chin toward my hands—“that?”

I eyed him suspiciously. “Are you?”

He tipped his head, considering, before a fierce smile broke across his face. “I think it’s the most impressive fucking thing I’ve ever seen. You’re a . . . Lou, you’re a goddess now.”

“Goddess Divine.” I matched his smirk with one of my own, despite Isla’s words ringing loud and true in my ears. My sister chose wrong. “Queen of the sea urchins.”

His smirk vanished at the last, and he stared resolutely at the back of Elvire’s head. “About that. I . . . want to apologize.” He cleared his throat. “For earlier.”

“Ah.” I exhaled with a soft chuckle. “There’s no need.”

“There is a need—”

“You told the truth.”

“It wasn’t the truth.” He shook his head in agitation. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Isla, she—she twisted my words—” Clearing his throat, he tried again, lowering his voice so the others couldn’t hear. “I do find you extraordinary. Perhaps not extraordinarily brave or just or true, but extraordinary nonetheless.” When I rolled my eyes, politely skeptical, he stepped in front of me, forcing us both to a halt. “Who else would have accepted the spoiled son of a king? The misused aristocrat? The sacrilegious huntsman? In the eyes of the kingdom, we are nothing.” His voice dropped lower still. “You’ve given us all a place, a purpose, when before we didn’t have one. You are the reason we’re here, Lou. And I don’t care about the waters’ truth—you are my sister. Never forget it.”

He sped up to walk beside Coco and Célie without allowing me to answer. Probably for the best.

I couldn’t speak around the emotion in my throat.

When we finally reached the shores of L’Eau Mélancolique, the water supporting Reid burst—the last of Angelica’s magic falling away—and he collapsed upon the sand. I immediately dropped to my knees beside him. “Shit.” I checked his pulse again, pried open his eyelids to assess his pupils. All sounded and looked perfectly healthy.

Exhaling harshly, I poked him in the ribs. Nothing. I flicked his nose. Nothing again. I blew in his face, his eyes, unlaced his boot to tickle his foot, even slapped him smartly across the cheek. Nothing, nothing, nothing. My chest tightened with frustration as I dragged him to the water’s edge. When splashing his face yielded no results, I swore viciously and prepared to dunk his entire head—his entire body, if necessary—but Beau stopped me with an impatient hand. “I don’t think drowning him is an option.”

“It worked for me—”

“You’ve tried magic, I assume?” His eyes darted up the path and into the mountains. I didn’t blame him. Morgane and Josephine could’ve been watching us at this very moment. Still . . . as much as Isla had insisted she wouldn’t get involved, I doubted she’d forgive an attack on her people so quickly. Constantin had been under her protection. It would be a very brave witch indeed—or perhaps a very stupid one—who trespassed on these shores again. Morgane and Josephine were neither brave nor stupid.

Here, we were safe. For now.

“The patterns are in a knot.” I resisted the urge to snap at Beau again in light of his confession. It must’ve been hard to admit such things aloud. I appreciated them. “I can’t make any sense of it.”

Coco approached tentatively. “I could take some of his blood.”

My mind immediately recoiled from the idea. The last time Coco had taken blood, she’d foreseen Ansel’s death, and I’d had quite enough of misinterpreting the future.

“Angelica said—” Célie started, but I interrupted impatiently.

“We don’t have time for cryptic advice. He needs to wake now.”

Célie crouched beside me in response, placing a comforting hand on my back, and I felt like the world’s greatest ass.