Orion nodded. “That, and he desperately wants to fuck her. But yes, you’re right. Mortana has a claim.”
Orion had gone very still again. And when he did that, it always made me nervous. The air seemed to be growing hotter in here, the shadows thickening around him. His pale eyes bored into me.
“What?” I asked. “I can see you’re worked up about something.”
“What I’m having a hard time with,” he said quietly, “is the number of coincidences. Like I said when we first met, demons sometimes have mortal doppelg?ngers. But what, exactly, are the chances that a mortal doppelg?nger also possessed the key to that demon’s house?”
Ice slid through my bones. He’d brought up a very good point. And yet, I had no idea.
I cleared my throat. “I don’t know. But you said I was definitely mortal.” I was clinging to this desperately now. “You said demons can’t breed mortals. And clearly, I don’t have any magic. Not even in the City of Thorns.”
He held my gaze for longer than was comfortable, then pulled it away again at last. “You did taste mortal, yes.”
I sucked in a deep breath. “I’m going to look around and see what I can find, okay?” A sense of dread was starting to rise in me, dark and unnamed fears I didn’t want to confront.
And for whatever reason, I was starting to feel uneasy around Orion. If I learned anything about my mom in this place, I wasn’t sure I wanted him to be there.
I crossed through the hall, suddenly eager to get away from him, and I found my way to a wide, wooden stairwell that swept to the upper floors. I hurried up the stairs, eager to learn more about this place. With the help of the moonlight, I surveyed the defaced portraits, the scattered clothes and ransacked rooms. I moved quickly and with a rising sense of desperation, feeling like I was on the precipice of a discovery.
I crossed out onto the balcony that overlooked the tangled garden, and a flock of crows burst from one of the gnarled trees below, startling me. My heart fluttered as I watched them take to the dark sky.
When I breathed in, my heart squeezed. I could smell Mom here. A faint, floral smell, velvety and tinged with jasmine. I missed her more right now that I ever had.
When I closed my eyes, I could almost feel her here, and my heart ached. I could see her vividly now, dozing in the chair before the TV, exhausted after work. She always had a hard time sleeping, and every little noise woke her. But it was a different Mom that I felt here—not the mortal one I knew, who watched nature documentaries and drank wine spritzers. This Mom wore her hair piled on her head and had servants bring her fruit. This one was full of confidence, radiant.
This one scared people.
My throat tightened. I didn’t want Orion here as I explored. What if I found something that turned him against me?
My hands were shaking as I started moving again, searching one room after another. I kept going until, at last, I reached the master bedroom, one with a four-poster bed made of dark wood and a high ceiling painted with a constellation. But what stopped my heart was the portrait on the wall—a bust, and a woman with her dark hair piled atop her head. It was just as I’d been envisioning her. The portrait’s eyes had been painted over, but I would have recognized the rest of her face anywhere. Her straight nose, high cheekbones, dark eyebrows…
I felt like the world was tilting beneath me as I stared up at Mom’s portrait. What the fuck?
I couldn’t breathe as the possibilities whirled in my mind. Did Mom have a doppelg?nger, or…
I had to figure this out before Orion came up here.
I turned around, scanning the room, my heart slamming against my ribs. An ancient-looking wooden desk stood in one corner of the room, and I rushed over to it. I pulled open the drawers until I found a book, its black cover embossed with golden thorns, and a skull key like the one I’d seen on my arm. I don’t think I was breathing as I turned the pages and read the ancient hand-written text.
On the first page, written in black ink, was a sort of nursery rhyme.
The Maere of Night
Gave girls a fright,
But one queen loved him well.
He lost his throne
But seeds were sown
In the garden of Adele.
A swindler king,
A golden ring
To keep his heart alive.
Take the ring,
Fell the king,
The city yet will thrive.
What was this? A nursery rhyme? A prophecy?
I glanced over my shoulder, making sure I was still alone. I wasn’t sure if the text meant anything or if it was just a rhyme, but I pulled out my cell phone to snap a picture anyway.