Persistent hammers tapped at the inside of Violet’s skull. Light kept trying to seep through her closed eyelids. She groaned and rolled over, velvet cushions meeting her cheek. The sharp, spicy scent of cloves filled her senses.

“Eden, my head is pounding—get that smell out of here,” she ordered, trying to bury her aching head in the pillows.

“Hmm, I thought you’d like it,” answered a voice Violet knew even in her stupor.

She pushed herself up on her hands to ...