“She robbed him?” Voice faint, Jean Luc shook his head. “You’ve been a terrible influence—you and that witch. I can’t believe you left Célie.” He flung his hands in the air, outpacing me in his agitation. “You are the only reason I allowed her to go. This place—this entire fucking kingdom—it’s dangerous. You were supposed to guard her. Now she’s God knows where with only an idiotic prince for protection.” He exhaled hard, shaking his head frenetically. “This just might be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, Reid. I shouldn’t be surprised. You haven’t thought straight since the moment you met—” He clenched his fists midair, apparently overcome. He took a deep breath. Then another. “Whenever she’s around, it’s like every single coherent thought flies out of your head.”

“Who? Célie?”

He whipped around to face me, eyes murderous. “No. Not Célie. Lou. Your wife.”

My wife. I snapped at the repulsive words, stooping to pick up a stone and hurling it at his face. Eyes wide, he ducked, narrowly missing it. “Stop saying that,” I snarled.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He scooped up his own stone then, launching it back at me. I didn’t dodge in time. When it grazed my shoulder, I groaned, but he merely reached for another—a stick this time. “Saying what? That she’s your wife? She is. I watched the inane ceremony myself—”

“Shut up!” I tackled him around the knees, and we both went tumbling in the snow. “Shut! Up! I would never tie myself to such a creature.” We rolled, neither of our blows fully landing. “I would never deign to even touch one—”

“You’ve touched her plenty from what I gather.” He bared his teeth and pushed a palm against my face, scrambling free. “What’s the matter, Reid? Trouble in paradise? I could’ve told you it would never work, but you wouldn’t have listened. You’ve been completely obsessed with her—and still are, by the sound of it. Oh no, don’t try to deny it, and don’t get any ideas about you and Célie either. You made your choice. She’s moved on—”

I snorted and shot to my feet. “You’re pathetic. You think she belongs to you? You think you allowed her to come here? You don’t know her at all, do you?” When he seized my coat front, enraged, I broke his grip, resisting the urge to break his nose too. “She isn’t an object. She’s a person, and she’s changed since you last saw her. You better prepare yourself.”

“If you—”

I elbowed past him. “You don’t have to worry about me.” The truth in the words shocked me. Where once there had been attraction, even infatuation, when I thought of Célie now, I felt only a familial sort of affection. Frowning, I tried to pinpoint the source of the change, but I couldn’t. Though I’d tried to deny it, to rationalize it, something had clearly happened inside my head. Something unnatural. Something like witchcraft. I stormed north, determined to fix it no matter the cost. The witches would know. They’d probably cursed me themselves. Their last act on earth would be undoing it. “Worry about yourself, Jean. Célie won’t be happy to learn you’ve been following her. It implies a lack of trust. A lack of confidence.”

He grimaced and looked away. Good.

“Now,” I said, taking advantage of his silence, “we should strategize for when we meet them. I don’t have my Balisarda, but you do. You’ll need to incapacitate the freckled one.” I frowned. “Coco’s magic is different. She needs to touch us to inflict harm, so I’ll handle her. I should be able to disable her before she can draw blood.”

Jean Luc shook his head, nonplussed. “Why would we need to incapacitate either of them?”

“Because they’re witches.”

“So are you.”

It was my turn to grimace. “Just stick to the plan.”

He squared up to face me at last, straightening his shoulders. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no.” Though he shrugged, old spitefulness glinted in his pale eyes. “I hate your plan. It’s a terrible plan, and I won’t be doing any of it. I’m only here to collect Célie. Why would I pick a fight with two witches, one who nearly killed me during our last encounter?”

“Because you’re a Chasseur,” I ground out. “You swore an oath to eradicate the occult.”

“Does that mean I should eradicate you?” He stepped closer, cocking his head. “When shall I do it, Reid? How? Would you prefer I drag you back to Cesarine, or shall I behead you here and now, burning your body to ash? It’d certainly be easier.” He took another step, nearly chest to chest with me. “How is that for a plan?”

Red washed over my vision—whether at him or at myself, I didn’t know. I inhaled deeply through my nose. Exhaled hard. I concentrated on each breath, counting to ten. Finally, forcing my voice to remain even, I said, “We can’t simply let them live. They—they did something to me, Jean. My head, it isn’t right. I think they’ve stolen my memories. Pieces of my life. And the freckled witch, she—”

“Lou,” he corrected me.

“Lou.” The name tasted sour on my tongue. “I think she’s the one who did it.”

He rolled his eyes and started forward once more. “She’d die before she’d harm you. No, don’t”—he lifted a hand to stop my protest—“don’t start. Clearly, something is wrong, but killing Lou and Coco won’t solve it. It won’t, Reid. They’re the only people who like you. No, I said don’t interrupt. If you kill them and return to Cesarine, the huntsmen will inevitably find and execute you. You saw the wanted posters. You’re one of the most notorious outlaws in the entire kingdom, second only to Lou. It’s too dangerous for you to wander the countryside alone—a point you’ve just proven, by the way—which leaves only one option: you stay with the witches.”

“I don’t—”

“You stay with the witches,” he continued in a hard voice, “and they will protect you. Perhaps they’ll even help undo whatever has gone so critically wrong inside your head. Of course, you might need to conduct yourself with a bit more charm to persuade them. A near impossible task, I know—”