The alley stank of wet brick and desperation.
Rain dripped from the brim of my fedora as I sta
red at the flickering neon sign: The Black Cat.
I didn’t remember why I was here.
Or why my coat reeked of gunpowder and old blood
.
"Looking for something, stranger?"
I turned.
She leaned against the doorway, red lips curled,
eyes like smoky glass.
"You," I said.
Her smile vanished.
"You don’t remember me."
I didn’t. But something in her voice cracked the
fog in my skull.
"I’m Evelyn," she said. "And
you’re about to get
yourself killed."
Footsteps echoed from the street.
Heavy ones.
"Inside. Now."
I followed her into the speakeasy, where jazz hi
ssed through the speakers and smoke curled like
ghosts above the bar.
"This way," she whispered, pulling me
behind the
velvet curtain.
A gunshot shattered the mirror behind us.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked.
"Someone who’s been waiting for you."
"For what?"
"To break the curse."
I blinked.
"What curse?"
"The one that stole your memory. That made you a
ghost in your own life."
"I don’t—"
"Shh." She pressed a finger to my lips.
"They’re
listening."
A chill crept down my spine. Not from fear. From
something older.
Magic.
Dark and coiled like a serpent beneath the city.
Evelyn handed me a flask.
"Drink this."
It burned like fire.
And then—
Images.
A warehouse. A bloodred moon. A woman screaming
my name.
Mine.
"Daniel Cross," I whispered.
"That’s right," she said. "And
you were the best
spy this city ever had. Until they cursed you."
"Who?"
"The Black Veil Society."
"They’re real?"
"They were real. Until you destroyed them. Or tr
ied to."
Another shot rang out.
Wood splintered inches from my head.
"We don’t have much time," Evelyn said.
"The cur
se ends at midnight. If you’re not whole by then
, it becomes permanent."
"Then let’s move."
She grabbed my arm.
"You need to remember the last mission. The one
that got you cursed."
I closed my eyes.
A memory surfaced.
Snow falling on a steel factory. A woman in a bl
ack cloak. A necklace of bone and fire.
She whispered a name.
Mine.
And then pain.
Whitehot. Souldeep.
I gasped.
"It was a spell," I said. "Bound
to my name. Tha
t’s why I forgot."
Evelyn nodded.
"Breaking it takes more than will. It takes a fa
ted mate."
I stared at her.
"You?"
"You."
"Then why didn’t you come for me sooner?"
"I did. Every week. Every bar. Every alley. You
passed me every time and never saw me."
That ache in my chest wasn’t from the bullet wou
nd.
It was from losing her.
"Then let’s finish this," I said.
We slipped out the back, into the rainslick stre
ets.
The city had changed since the war. Since I'd go
ne missing.
Now it reeked of something worse than Prohibitio
n.
Evil.
Wrapped in silk and smoke.
We reached the old factory.
The one from my memory.
"Do you remember the plan?" Evelyn asked.
"Break the curse. Kill the witch. Don’t die."
"Good enough."
The door creaked open.
Inside, the air shimmered with dark magic.
At the center stood the woman from my dreams.
Black cloak. Red eyes.
"You again," she said, smiling.
I stepped forward.
"You cursed me."
"You betrayed us," she hissed. "
You were meant t
o bring the war to the Allies. Instead, you side
d with them."
"I saw what you were doing."
"You saw what we could do."
Evelyn gripped my hand.
"Daniel," she whispered. "It’s
time."
The witch raised her hands.
So did I.
The curse cracked like ice.
Memories flooded back—training in France, decodi
ng Nazi spells, Evelyn’s kiss before I vanished.
All of it.
The witch screamed.
Light exploded from my chest.
She flew backward, crashing into the furnace.
Gone.
Evelyn pulled me close.
"You’re back," she whispered.
I kissed her.
And this time, I remembered how.
The factory burned behind us as we walked into t
he rain.
"So what now?" I asked.
"New war's coming," she said.
"Cold one. Bigger
than this."
"Then we fight it."
"Still the hero, huh?"
"Only with you."
She smiled.
"Let’s go, Daniel."
And we did.
