We both gorged ourselves on junk food—something I would definitely regret later—then fell into bed, she in her favorite chair, and me on the mattress.

I picked up my phone and did the thing I’d been both dreading and anticipating. I sent Grey a text outlining the bait plan, so that he’d know what to tell Christoph Venderklein when Anton finally contacted him.

The message registered that it had sent, and I waited, breath held. It wasn’t like his response was actually going to be interesting or make me feel any better, but I couldn’t help my desire to hear back from him. For that small bit of contact. For any contact.

His message arrived a few minutes later.

Fine.

I stared at it. Fine. Just . . . fine.

My disappointment was stupid, of course. And I hated myself for it. For the oddly mooning idiot I’d become. I scowled and shoved the phone away, burying it beneath a pillow.

Grey was doing the right thing by cutting ties and forgetting, and I needed to do the same.

Sleep took a long time coming, but by the time it arrived, so did a shadow at the edge of my consciousness.

Grey.

Like before, I could feel him in my dream, right at the periphery. That time, I’d thought it truly was a dream. No consequences.

This time, though?

He was really here. Something about my crazy magic drew him to me, and I wondered if he came willingly, or if I was abducting him.

In bed, I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t need to open them to know he stood at the edge of my room. I could feel it like I could feel my own legs.

Would he come to me?

Would I let him?

But he didn’t remember me.

Finally, the tension became too much. I peeked my eyes open the tiniest bit, still cocooned in the partial dream state.

A shadow hovered by the door, tall and broad. I caught the briefest glimpse of cold silver eyes before the shadow retreated, and I was alone.

Grey

The next day, I sat at my desk, staring at an accounts’ book but not seeing the figures. My primary goal was to wait for the signal that Anton’s man was contacting Christoph Venderklein. Once that happened, I could force Venderklein to give Carrow’s name to the kidnapper.

The mere idea of it made me ill, even though I had hardly any memories of her at all. Their loss felt like a severed limb, confusing and terrible.

When I’d chosen this, I knew it was the right thing to do.

But it was terrible.

And this plan . . .

It was so dangerous. But it was smart. Carrow was strong and could take care of herself. She wanted to do this, which meant that I needed to trust her. It wasn’t my place to stop her, anyway. And there was no way the kidnapper would risk trying to take me, so I couldn’t even trade places.

It will be fine.

The plan was a good one. She’d be surrounded by dozens of people who had her back. The entire Witches’ Guild, in fact.

I needed to let go of this stupid concern.

Finally, the damned charm buzzed in my pocket.

Thank fates.

I pulled out the mirror and looked into it, spotting Venderklein standing at the door, speaking to a man with red eyes.

One of Anton’s, definitely.

A moment later, Christoph shut the door on the man and turned back to the room, moving toward a coat he’d hung on the peg by the wall. He was getting dressed to go out, no doubt to find the appropriate target for Anton.

It was my cue.

I stood, leaving the room. I nodded at Miranda as I strode out into the afternoon light, turning to head toward Hellebore Alley. It wasn’t terribly far from my tower, and by the time I reached it, Christoph was likely out on the street.

I turned down the dark road and moved swiftly past the shops, headed down Nightshade Lane toward Christoph’s flat. I was about twenty yards away when I spotted the slender man hurrying toward me, his head bent low.

I ducked into a darkened nook before he saw me, slipping on my leather gloves. I’d have to touch him, and the idea sent a frisson of distaste through me. When he passed, his head was still bent low as he muttered to himself. I reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him inside.

I clapped a hand over his mouth to silence him, grateful for the glove I wore, and forced his head up so that his gaze met mine. “Do not make a sound.”

My magic wrapped around him, making his eyes go blurry and his muscles slightly slack.

“That’s it.” I removed my hand and propped him up against the wall.

He stared back at me.

“What did Anton’s man ask you for?” I asked.

“They want a seer whose gift works by touching objects.”

Carrow had that talent. Ice streaked through my veins.

Was it coincidence, or did they really want her? For a moment, I debated changing the plan. I couldn’t give him Carrow’s name.

I shook myself. No. I’d made a promise. And we had a good plan. More than that, Carrow was strong. She would be okay.

I held his haze with my own and spoke, the words feeling like glass in my throat despite the fact that I was honor-bound to say them. “You will tell them that a supernatural named Carrow Burton has that gift. She will be found tonight at an outdoor party at the Witches Guild tower. There will be many opportunities to catch her alone and in the dark.”

The words made bile rise in my throat, and I vowed that I would be there to stop the kidnapper before he laid so much as a finger on Carrow.

Christoph nodded. “I will tell them that.”

“When do you normally give them a name?”

“Roughly two to three hours after they request it. Doesn’t take me long to find a person.”

Disgust surged. When this was over, I would beat him to within an inch of his life and evict him from Guild City. He’d sell out his grandmother for a cigarette, and I didn’t want his kind here. “You are truly the dregs of the gene pool.”

Irritation flickered in the man’s eyes, and I raised a hand to his neck, gripping it. The desire to crush his windpipe was strong—too strong.

I drew in a steadying breath, knowing that I was teetering at the edge of something here. I’d lost my memories of Carrow, and it had left me unsettled. Angry and always on the edge.

“In two hours, tell Anton to send his goon after Carrow.” I shook him slightly. “Do not deviate from those orders.”

His eyes had properly blurred, indicating the effectiveness of my power, and I nodded, releasing him. “Now go. Walk around town as if you are doing your normal business, then return home and do as I have commanded.”

He nodded and turned, striding out into the street. His stooped posture remained the same, and I watched him head down the road as if he were continuing on his way. I’d need to keep an eye on his apartment to make sure he did as I said, but it was clear he would not disobey me.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and sent a message to Carrow, hesitating just briefly before hitting send.

I could go tell her in person.

Desire pulled me toward that option, fueled by the need to see her.

No.

I couldn’t. Cyrenthia had been clear. We needed to stay apart.

I typed the message and hit send.

16

Carrow

That night, Mac, Seraphia, Eve, and I sauntered down the street to the Witches’ Guild party. It was a truly last-minute affair, the idea cooked up less than twenty-four hours ago. As expected, Guild City had responded quickly.

Only the witches knew that it was a trap for the kidnapper, but everyone else liked a good party, and the witches threw the best. I hadn’t yet seen Grey, but I knew he’d be there.

The sound of the party echoed through the clear night as we neared, shouts and laughter sounding down the quiet, cobbled streets of Guild City. On the horizon, I could see the colorful sky lit up with magic, marking the spot where the festivities were meant to go down.

If this didn’t work . . .

“We’re screwed if this doesn’t work, aren’t we?” I asked.

Seraphia nodded. “I’ve been reading more about the goddess Anat, and you were right, their actions parallel those of cults in the past. They seem to be obsessed with her.”

“Ritual murders, though?” Eve shook her head, a disgusted expression on her face.

Her raven made a harsh noise of agreement, but she didn’t seem to hear it.

“We’re lucky they’ve been collecting people for one big event and didn’t start piecemeal with individual murders,” Seraphia said.

“Like it’s all some horrible game, and they’re setting up the board,” I said. Was I the last piece? The fact that they wanted someone with my power made me seriously nervous. I shivered. “They want to make a splash.”

“Exactly,” Seraphia said. “They’ll imbue her with power that satisfies her dark side, so when she rises, there will be no balance.”

“We’ll stop them.” I stepped out into the courtyard that surrounded the Witches’ Guild tower.

The space that was normally so barren and desolate was filled with life now. Dozens of supernaturals drank and danced and talked. Part of the wild grass had been covered by sand, and palm trees grew up out of the golden stuff. Bonfires scattered the space, brilliant orange infernos emitting colorful smoke that hovered over the guests like an Aurora Borealis. Picnic tables and games were set up, along with what looked like a match of American football, complete with a line of cheerleaders, both men and women.

“This is wild.” I took it all in, amazed by what the witches had accomplished in such a short time.

“Look at all the little nooks they’ve created.” Mac nodded toward the edges of the courtyard.

As planned, there were quiet spaces set away from the masses of people. In the shadows of the abandoned shops were benches under palm trees and blankets spread out on the grass. People already inhabited half of them, talking and flirting.

I eyed the one in the far corner that we planned for me to inhabit, eventually. It was quiet and secluded, near a little nook between two shops. A couple of alleys were located nearby, along with a segment of flat roofs that the kidnapper could hide on. We were betting that he would, in fact.