They’re safe.

Two others aimed at me, magic glowing around their fists.

I was only ten feet from the body. I hurled my transport charm to the ground right next to the still form. Magic flew through the air toward me, two of the smoky galloping stallions. Their hoofbeats reverberated in my chest as I lunged for the body and grabbed an arm, hurling myself into the silvery gray cloud of the transport charm.

One of the beasts followed me in, its magic seeming to pollute the ether that spun me through space. Panic flared as pain enveloped me, threatening to tear me away from the person that I’d grabbed. It felt like I’d been tossed into a blender with a magical stallion from hell. Its hooves slammed into my chest, driving the breath from my lungs.

I clung tight to the arm of my prey, finally tumbling to the ground in the middle of the Haunted Hound.

Panting, I stared at the ceiling. I could feel the arm of the person in my grip, but I had no idea if I’d brought the rest of the body with me.

“Is there a hell stallion in here?” I croaked.

“No missy, but you look like hell.” An ancient, wrinkled face leaned over me, blue eyes peering hard. “Your boyfriend is wearing a weird outfit, and I’m saying that as a member of the Mystical Mentoria.”

I blinked. I had no idea what the Mystical Mentoria was, but the woman did appear to be dressed like a lunatic, in seven different styles of polka dots and a cloak stitched with a million sequins.

What the hell?

Had I screwed up the transport charm?

“Step back, Betty.” Quinn’s calm voice pierced my panic, and I heaved out a relieved breath.

Betty moved back far enough that I could sit, and I dragged myself upright. In a split second, I absorbed the scene.

I’d gotten my guy—all in one piece.

There was no smoky hell stallion here, thank fates.

Eve appeared, her wings still out and her hair windblown.

And Mac and Seraphia lay on the ground near the fireplace, gasping.

It was about as good as could be expected.

“Who’s this bloke?” Quinn asked.

“One of the bastards responsible for kidnapping our friends. He’ll come to, soon.” I stumbled upright, determined to get to Seraphia, who was still unconscious.

“I’ll tie him up then.” Quinn bent down and grabbed the body, swinging it up over his shoulder.

I raced to Mac, who was leaning over a prone Seraphia. Eve landed on her knees next to us. “Is she all right?”

Mac pressed her fingertips to Seraphia’s neck. “She’s got a pulse.”

Eve plunged her hand into one of the many pockets of her dress, pulling out a tiny vial. “Healing serum.”

She tilted the vial over Seraphia’s pale lips and poured the liquid into her mouth.

Nothing happened.

“It always works.” Eve scowled.

“What’s happening to my plants?” Quinn shouted. “They’re all shaking.”

I looked up, spotting a few of the potted ferns that decorated the place shaking like they were inside their own personal earthquakes. They tumbled off the shelves and tables and rolled toward Seraphia, the plants clinging to her.

Slowly, the color returned to her cheeks, and she opened her eyes. The plants stopped shuddering and lay still.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Okay, that was weird.

I shot Mac and Eve a glance. They just shrugged. This power of Seraphia’s was new as far as I could tell. Or more likely, it was meant to be a secret.

She looked down at the ferns that were nestled around her, her face going pale again.

Yep. A secret.

“Are you okay?” I asked, ignoring the plants.

Mac and Eve did the same.

“Yeah.” She sat up, shoving the plants aside and ignoring them. “There’s no way past that barrier.”

“We saw,” Mac said.

“Did we leave everyone there?” Seraphia asked, worry creasing her brow.

“Not everyone.” I stood, turning toward the man that Quinn had bound to the chair near the fire. The patrons of the Haunted Hound didn’t pay the scene any mind. Weird stuff happened there all the time. “We got one of theirs to question.”

“Good.” She looked at us. “Do you think Coraline, Beth, and the rest are okay?”

“I don’t think they’re dead yet,” I said. “They were kidnapped by fanatics of some kind. People with a goal. And they know they’re protected inside their temple. I think they’ll see their goal out before they kill anyone.”

“We need to question him,” Mac said.

“First, you need healing drafts.” Eve gestured to Mac and me. “Look at the two of you. You look like hell.”

Just the reminder made pain flare in my wounds, and Mac winced.

“Here.” Eve withdrew two more tiny vials and handed them over.

Mac and I took them, swigging them back quickly. Warmth flowed through me, followed by a wonderful lack of pain.

“Thank you.” I smiled gratefully at her.

She nodded, concern still flickering in her eyes. The four of us stood, and we approached the man slumped in the chair. His head nodded on his neck, chin resting on his chest. He was mid-twenties, probably, with shaggy dark hair and a silver bar pierced through his ear. Tattoos decorated his neck, indecipherable swirls that probably meant something to him but nothing to me.

Quinn stood behind his chair, arms crossed over his neck. “You’ve got to ask him some questions?”

I nodded.

“I’ve got a truth serum,” Eve said.

“I’ll wake him up.” Quinn grabbed a half-empty cup of water from the table behind him. A red lipstick stain marred the rim. He dumped the water over the guy’s head.

The man sputtered and sat up, gasping. As soon as he saw us, he growled and lunged. “Intruders!”

The ropes pulled taught, but he was moving so fast, he upended the chair, tilting forward. Quinn grabbed the back of the chair and yanked it into place. “Chill out, mate.”

The man growled and spit, heaving against the bindings.

He was going nuts.

I slapped him across the face, briefly shocking him into silence. Quinn gripped his head and tilted it back. His mouth gaped like a fish’s, shock flashing in his eyes.

Quickly, Eve uncorked the vial of truth serum and dumped it into his mouth before he could process what was going on. He sputtered, but most of it appeared to go down his throat.

Quinn leaned close and spoke in a menacing tone against his ear. “Calm down, or I’ll gut you like a Ton Ton and climb in for warmth.”

I grimaced. “What the hell was that, Quinn?”

He shrugged and smiled. “Been watching a bit of Star Wars.”

“Well it’s effective,” Mac said. “That would get me to shut up.”

The prisoner hissed at us, his eyes flashing with rage. “Those potions don’t work on me.”

Eve frowned. “Who are you?”

“No one you need to know.”

“Tell me your name.” Her voice hardened.

“Told you, those potions don’t work on me.”

“Damn it.” She turned to us. “He’s right. It’s not working.”

“The goddess protects me,” he said. “She’ll always protect me.”

“Maybe.” I nodded, crossing my arms over my chest. “But I bet she can’t protect you from the Devil himself.”

14

Carrow

Ten minutes later, I dragged our captive down the streets of Guild City. Mac and Eve helped me, each of us taking turns with the wagon we’d gotten from Quinn. Normally it was used to haul kegs. Now it was used to carry our captive. Seraphia had disappeared back to the library, and none of us spoke about the weird episode with the plants.

Behind us, the wagon rumbled over the cobblestones, the body of our captive unconscious inside. In London, you could never get away with something like this. In Guild City, it was a lot easier. We were still trying to avoid the police, but there were far fewer of them, and they didn’t really do patrols like human police did.

“Why did your potion bombs work on him but not the truth serum?” I asked Eve, who’d just taken her turn pulling the wagon full of crazy.

She shrugged. “I’ve heard you can develop an immunity to truth serum if you train. Or he might be protected, like he said.”

“It has to be a cult,” Mac said. “I mean, look at the robe. They all wore them. And he did sound crazy as a jaybird on Sunday.”

I had to agree. I hoped Grey could help us get to the bottom of it with his ability to compel people to speak. If he couldn’t, we were almost right back where we started, albeit now with some baggage.

We passed a restaurant with a patio, and the diners leaned out into the sidewalk to inspect the contents of our wagon.

“Just a little performance art,” I said.

“Uh-huh. “An older woman pursed her crimson lips and nodded, clearly not believing us. All the same, she didn’t try to stop us.

We kept going, finally reaching Grey’s tower. The shifter guards at the front nodded at me and opened the door, inspecting the unconscious man with bored stares. In the lobby, Miranda looked at us impassively. “What is that?”

“Something we need help with.” I nodded toward the back hall. “Is he in?”

“Just a moment.” She pressed her comms charm, never taking her gaze from the unconscious man. Mac and Eve stood by me, idly tapping their fingers against their arms. Miranda murmured into her charm for a moment, then met my gaze. “He’ll see you in his office.”

His office.

Of course. We were avoiding each other now, so of course he wouldn’t invite me into his home. Which was for the best, not only because I came bearing terrible gifts, but also for our future.

We wheeled the wagon back to his office, where a guard stood, leaning against the open door. I wheeled the wagon into the office. Grey sat at his desk and, as soon as I met his eyes, there was something different about him.