Shoving the potion in its pouch, I unhooked the scepter. Heart in my throat, I reached up and slipped the handle into the angel’s waiting grasp. It slid into place with a quiet clink—and the single red crystal set in the crown-like point on top lit with the same crimson glow as the chalice.

A third spot of scarlet light ignited behind the statue, and Makiko leaped aside as something made a hissing, grinding sound.

The glow faded, and we all peered around the statue. A panel of stone floor had lifted several inches.

Cautiously approaching, Kai and Aaron took hold of the panel and heaved it up. It rose on thick hinges, helped by shiny metal pistons that definitely didn’t go with the weathered stone of the cenotaph.

Inside the hole, wooden stairs descended into the earth.

We’d found the Court’s lair.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Aaron went first, holding a palmful of fire to light his way. I followed with my flashlight in one hand, the other resting on the holstered gun at my hip. Makiko descended on my heels, and Kai brought up the rear, his hands bristling with throwing knives ready to fly.

Hoshi was standing guard—or floating guard?—at the entrance. She didn’t like underground spaces, but she could warn me if anyone approached the cenotaph. The last thing we needed was to get trapped down here. That’d be the opposite of fun.

My heart thumped in my ears as we descended deeper, the rough wooden stairs creaking underfoot and tree roots dangling from the earthen ceiling like spiderwebs. The stairs turned, then kept going. We were at least three stories beneath ground level before Aaron’s warm light danced across a damp stone floor.

We walked out of the rough stairwell and into a much larger space with stone walls, the arched ceiling supported by smooth, round pillars streaked with water stains. The rectangular shape of the room, about fifty feet wide but so long I couldn’t see either end in the darkness, confused me until I spotted the dark openings high in the walls.

It was an old storm-water reservoir.

And now it belonged to the cult. They’d gone right ahead with customizing their damp, echoey lair into a new “temple.”

The summoning circle in the center spanned twenty-five feet, each precise line filled with silver inlay. At the top of the circle, a stone lectern with an imp-like demon carved into its base faced the circle, and behind it, a long wooden altar held candelabras, ornamental boxes, and other ritual paraphernalia. Hanging from each of the six pillars was a scarlet tapestry displaying the cult’s sigil of a crown within a circle.

I gestured at the others. “Come on.”

My quiet whisper echoed off the walls, and I cringed at the sound of our feet slapping the damp floor. My muscles quivered with tension as we crossed the expanse toward the altar. This was it. This was our last chance to save Ezra. If there was no grimoire—or no additional clues on where to find one—then we were done.

My pace quickened, anxious hope driving me forward. Rushing ahead of the guys, I dashed to the lectern and spun toward its angled top, facing the summoning circle the way the Praetor—or in this case, the Magnus Dux would when he led his brainwashed flock through a ritual.

The lectern wasn’t empty.

Sitting atop it was an ornate wooden box, perfectly sized to hold a large book, carved and painted with the cult’s emblem. An intricate clasp held it shut, its glossy surface unmarred by a speck of dust or dampness.

My heart hammered. Please don’t be empty. Please, please, please. I clipped my flashlight back on my belt, relying on Aaron’s fire for light. Using my sleeve to shield my skin, I nudged the box’s clasp open and hooked my fingers under the lid’s edge to lift it.

Maybe it was the tiny voice in the back of my head whispering that this was too easy, but instead of flipping the lid open, I looked up—across the summoning circle, past the tapestry-decorated pillars, past the rough hole in the wall that we’d entered through.

I looked straight to the three figures standing at the edge of the darkness.

My gasp brought Aaron, Kai, and Makiko to attention. They whipped around, and we all stared across the echoing reservoir at the intruders.

Except we were the intruders.

The trio moved forward, their scarlet cloaks sweeping along the water-streaked floor. Deep hoods hid their faces, but guessing by their stature, two were broad-shouldered men. The third was either a slender man or a tall woman.

They stopped between the first of the tapestry-adorned columns. The centermost man took one more step and held his arms out, his cloak rippling dramatically.

With his gesture, scarlet light bloomed through the space. Fixed high on the columns, large crystals radiated the eerie glow.

“Welcome,” the man intoned in a deep voice, “to the Court of the Red Queen.”

My grip on the lectern box tightened.

“Are you here to pledge your souls to the service of the Queen? Have you come to join us in joyous worship of the mother of magic, the beautiful and all-powerful being known as the Goddess?”

When we didn’t respond, his low chuckle echoed through the reservoir.

“I didn’t think so.” He lowered his arms. “You would be the ones who defiled the temple ruins in Enright, the site where so many of the Goddess’s beloved children lost their lives. And you would be the voyeurs who spied upon a sacred gathering of the circle in Portland. And you are the fools who slaughtered my loyal subjects in Salt Lake City.”

I swallowed to get some moisture in my mouth. “And you would be the Magnus Dux,” I announced. “That’s a stupid name, by the way.”

Makiko shifted closer to my elbow. “At least one is probably a contractor,” she whispered, her lips scarcely moving. “We should run for the exit.”

I flicked a glance to my other side, but Kai and Aaron were several steps away—too far to consult with.

“You’ve come farther than any other,” the Magnus Dux mused. “And I would like to know how you managed it. That information in exchange for your lives seems fair, wouldn’t you agree?”

Yeah, right. Like he’d let us leave if he could help it.

“Well, we outnumber you, in case you can’t count that high,” I blustered. “So maybe we’ll spare your lives in exchange for information about your creepy cult.”

“Hmm. Fair point, Miss Dawson.”

Makiko sucked in a sharp breath beside me, and my blood ran cold. He knew my name. Did he know who we all were?

“Shall we even the numbers, then?”

He raised his hand, and I flinched, expecting a flash of red light and a horned demon to appear. When nothing happened, I frowned, my panic ratcheting even higher.

“Kai?”

At Aaron’s surprised gasp, I whipped around—and saw Kai plant his hands on Aaron’s chest.

Saw Aaron’s eyes widening in shock.

Saw Kai’s eerily vacant expression as flickering crackles ran over his arms and the air sizzled with power.

The assassin was here. The realization hit me and Aaron at the same time, and he lurched backward—but no human or mythic was faster than electricity.

White light flashed as Kai unleashed a blast of power straight into Aaron’s chest. Aaron went rigid as stone, arcs of power racing down his body and leaping from his fingers toward the ground in bluish-white lines. The tang of ozone hazed the air.

“No!” Makiko whipped her fan out.

The blast of wind hit the two mages, flinging them off their feet. They crashed down side by side, and Kai lunged back up.

Aaron didn’t. He didn’t move.

I was frozen. Paralyzed. As long as Aaron didn’t move, neither could I. My whole attention was locked on him, every iota of my being waiting for him to twitch, to gasp, to groan in pain because being electrocuted hurt like a bitch and he shouldn’t be silent right now.

But he was silent.

Makiko shoved me aside, and a throwing star whipped past my face. Kai, his stare devoid of emotion, pulled two more blades and flung them at his fiancée. She whacked them out of the air with her fan and leaped toward him.

She was screaming something, but all I could hear was Aaron’s silence.

I stumbled forward a step—then I was running. My knees hit the floor beside him and I grabbed his head, turning his face toward me. His half-open eyes were blank, pupils dilated.

Was he breathing?

I pressed my hand to his nose and mouth, but not the faintest hint of moving air warmed my hand.

Oh god. He wasn’t breathing. He wasn’t breathing!

Fuzzy high-school first-aid classes spun through my head, and I fumbled at his throat, pressing into the skin under his jaw, searching for his pulse. Why couldn’t I find it? I groped my own neck, easily locating the hammering pulse in my throat, then pushed on the same spot in his neck.

Nothing. I couldn’t feel anything.

“Aaron!” I gasped, my voice cracking. “Aaron, please!”

Tears spilled down my cheeks as I scrabbled for the buckles on his protective vest. I flipped it open, put one hand over the other on his sternum, and shoved down. Pain exploded through my bruised arm.

Clenching my jaw, I shoved down again. “Two,” I gasped. Shoved again. “Three. Four. Five. Six!”

Somewhere nearby, Makiko’s shouts and scuffing footsteps echoed, but I kept going. Kept going until my head spun, muscles burned, and my bruised arm was on fire. What number was I on? Fifteen? Twenty? I was supposed to do thirty, wasn’t I?

Choking on sobs, I took hold of his face. Sucking in the deepest breath I could, I clamped my mouth over his and exhaled hard. I filled my lungs again, locked our mouths, and exhaled a second time.

I pressed both hands to his sternum. Stats about CPR success rates beat against the inside of my skull. If Aaron was in full cardiac arrest, he needed a defibrillator. Chest compressions wouldn’t bring him back to life!

Tears dripped off my chin as I shoved down on his sternum again. I wouldn’t lose him. Wouldn’t let it happen. We needed our superhero pyromage, the one who’d brought us all together and made us a family. We needed him!

My limbs trembled with mounting fatigue. A pop sounded as one of his ribs cracked. Panic shot through me. Was that normal? That happened with CPR, didn’t it? Why hadn’t I paid more attention in that high school class!