Her eyes fell to the rope in my hand. Her smile faltered. “You’re kidding.”

“I don’t kid. Give me your wrists. You can walk behind the horse.”

“Fuck you.”

Coco slid from her own horse now, coming to stand beside Lou. “Don’t make us tie you to the horse, Reid.” She lifted her wrist to place a thumbnail upon it. A threat. “If you talk to her like that again, it would be my pleasure.”

My hands tightened on the rope. “Try.”

Beau rolled his eyes. “Honestly, brother, will you insist on this asshattery at every turn? If so, it’s going to be a very long trip.”

“I’m not riding anywhere with that witch.”

Without my Balisarda, I was virtually defenseless. She could attack me even now, and I wouldn’t be able to stop her. As if sensing that thought, Lou snorted. “You aren’t in any more danger on the horse.” Stepping into the stirrup, she swung her leg over its back. “Don’t be stupid, Chass. Climb up. You can tie me up later if you’d like, but I’m not walking anywhere.”

I glared up at her. “I don’t trust you.”

Her answering smile was hard. “I don’t particularly trust you either, which is why you should know”—she brushed the sheath at her thigh—“I’ll gut you like a fish if you try anything.”

I didn’t move. Coco didn’t either. Her eyes narrowed on my bandolier. “Not good enough. Give me your knives.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

Lou tipped her face up to the sky, exhaling heavily. “It’s fine, Coco. I’ve kicked his ass before. I can do it again.”

“We’re wasting time,” Célie urged.

Jean Luc shot me an impatient look. “Just get on the horse, Reid.”

Judas.

Reluctant, furious, I hoisted myself behind her, reaching around to take hold of the reins. She relinquished them freely. “Be very careful,” I warned her, voice low. “You may have magic, but you aren’t the only one who can gut a fish.”

She turned her face toward mine. “I’m not the only one who has magic either.” When I nudged our horse into a trot, following the others, she asked, “Have you heard them yet? The voices?”

I glared straight ahead. “I am sound of mind.”

“For now.”

I ignored the bait. Ignored her altogether. Until— “Beau said we’re riding toward a castle?”

“Chateau le Blanc.” She settled between my arms, heaving a terse sigh when I shoved her forward once more. “My ancestral home.”

“You’re going to rob it?” I tried to keep my voice casual. Cold. Only a Dame Blanche could locate the infamous Chateau. Finally, I’d found one to lead me to it. How many years had my brethren searched? How many witches would I snare there, unsuspecting and defenseless? Would I unearth the great pythoness herself, La Dame des Sorcières? One could only hope.

If Lou couldn’t return my memories, perhaps this was the next best thing.

“We are going to rob it.” She didn’t lean against me again. Unfortunately, her forward position fitted her backside more firmly between my legs. I gritted my teeth against the sensation. “It’ll be locked in the treasury, up in the highest room of the tallest tower. That’s where my coven hides all their relics—cursed books and eternal flowers and magic rings alike.”

“Your father would shit a brick, Célie,” Beau called over his shoulder.

“Shut up, Your Highness,” Jean Luc fired back.

Célie spoke through her teeth. “I can speak for myself, Jean.”

Lou chuckled before continuing. “My mother allowed me inside only once, and the door was guarded by a powerful enchantment. We’ll have to break it somehow—if we even manage to reach it. Eyes surround the castle itself from all sides. Hundreds of witches live there year-round.” She paused. “Even more now.”

Hundreds of witches.

“You said only the witch who casts the enchantment can break it.”

“That’s right.”

I clenched my jaw in irritation. In disappointment. “How will we break the enchantment on the door?”

She merely shrugged, her hair tickling my face. Long and thick and brown. Wild. Against my better judgment, I inhaled its scent. She smelled sweet in a way I almost recognized—like vanilla and cinnamon. A warm coat on a cold winter day. Snow on my tongue. I shook my head, feeling thoroughly stupid. “You have no strategy at all, do you?”

“I bottled several pints of L’Eau Mélancolique.” The wind carried Coco’s voice in an upward spiral. Lou strained forward to hear her, and I shifted away, cursing inwardly. Heat crept into my cheeks. My body didn’t realize, of course. This wasn’t a woman but a witch. “Maybe the waters will restore the door to what it was before the enchantment,” Coco continued. “If not, my blood might. It’s a different magic than yours.”

Jean Luc didn’t hide his scorn. “It’s a door. We break it down.”

I scarcely heard the exchange. With each stride of the horse, the witch’s backside moved against my lap, up and down, rhythmic, until heat suffused my entire body. I glared determinedly at the sky overhead. The situation had grown dire. Soon, she would notice, and soon, I would have to kill her for it.

“Is there a problem, Chass?” she murmured after another moment.

“None,” I snapped.

She said nothing for several seconds. Then— “You can tell me if there is.” She cleared her throat. It sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “It must be hard, riding with me like this.”

I would have to kill her.

“Seriously, Reid.” Lowering her voice, she turned to look at me in the saddle. I exhaled harshly at the movement. “Do I need to move?” The sudden earnestness in her expression startled me. As did the flush in her cheeks. The dilation of her pupils. “I can sit behind you.”

Ahead of us, Beau glanced back at me before winking and whispering in Coco’s ear. She laughed. Feverish with rage or—or something else—I shook my head. Their sly behavior chafed. All of it. Though truthfully, one couldn’t call them sly at all. Each communicated openly if not clearly, which made it all the more infuriating. They were laughing at my expense.