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“The Legacy is protecting something!” he called, sounding excited. “Search the manor until you find it. A double portion to whoever brings me the item of greatest value.”

The men responded enthusiastically, spilling out into the manor’s corridors. Dimitri watched them go with dismay. Facing nine at once had been too much. But it would be equally difficult to handle them if they were spread throughout the manor.

“Don’t worry,” Rosalie murmured from behind him, sounding surprisingly pleased with the situation. “The Legacy is helping us, like you said. And we know this manor better than they do.”

When he glanced back at her, the light in her eyes was almost feral.

“It’s our turn to be the hunters,” she said. “Let’s see how much they like being the prey.”

He grinned at her enthusiasm, even while he worried for her safety. But the moment’s inattention cost him. When he turned back to look at Jace, the man was gone.

Dimitri raced forward, leaping over the unconscious man and the coals and poker that were now scattered across the floor. He found the dining room empty, so he ran for the entryway, reaching it just in time to see Jace slipping out the front door.

“He’s a coward,” Rosalie said fiercely from just behind him. “As soon as he saw there was danger, he ran and left his men to take the risks for him.”

“Unfortunately, he has plenty of men,” Dimitri said.

“At least they’re spread out now.” Rosalie’s determined expression made her look fierce. “They’ll each want the reward for themselves, so they won’t be searching in packs. We just need to hunt them all down, one by one.”

Her eyes swung toward the open library door. She indicated it with an inclination of her head, raising her eyebrows at him. He nodded, moving silently toward the door.

She kept pace, leaning over to murmur in his ear. “Remember how the seats molded themselves around us?” She snorted quietly. “Actually you were perched so gingerly on the edge that you might not have felt it. It was a remarkable sensation, though. Since the Legacy is working with us, I think we should try to get one of them into a chair.”

Dimitri wasn’t sure a rose armchair was going to be enough to restrain one of Jace’s mercenaries, but it might slow the man down enough for Dimitri to handle him. He nodded.

They snuck through the door, their eyes jumping around the room. Sure enough, one of the men was in there. He was walking down the shelves, sweeping books off with one arm and letting them cascade to the floor. But he was cursing as he did it, his other arm protecting his head from the books that were springing back up off the floor and launching themselves at him.

Rosalie snickered, and if he hadn’t been wound so tautly, he would have joined her.

“The Legacy really doesn’t like them,” Rosalie muttered.

The man caught her words, twisting in their direction. His face tightened at the sight of them, and he drew a dagger from his belt.

Dimitri charged at the man, sword raised. He lunged forward as soon as he reached him, but the man dodged out of the way, slashing his knife toward Dimitri.

Dimitri barely spun out of the shorter blade’s reach, bringing his sword up to catch its length. He danced backward, just out of the man’s reach, finally remembering Rosalie’s instructions. He was supposed to be maneuvering the man toward a chair.

The man followed him, growling in frustration at Dimitri’s greater reach. Given his superior weapon and training, Dimitri was confident he could win their fight. But it might prove fatal for his assailant if it came to that, and he’d barely been in his manor a week. He didn’t want to fill it with dead bodies.

Instead, he maneuvered them both toward a cluster of chairs. Sidestepping into the middle of the chairs, he brought the man with him. His enemy was too focused on Dimitri and his sword to even notice their surroundings.

As soon as he was positioned in front of a rose chair, Rosalie darted forward from out of Dimitri’s line of sight. She ducked under the man’s knife and shoved him hard in the chest. He flailed, losing his balance and waving his knife wildly through the air.

Dimitri shouted a warning and dropped his own sword, darting forward to seize Rosalie around the waist and pull her out of reach of the uncontrolled blade.

The back of the man’s legs hit the chair, and he fell backward into it.

“Please,” Rosalie whispered, ignoring Dimitri’s hands around her waist, her eyes fixed on the man. “Please.”

Dimitri watched, fascinated, as the chair folded itself around the man, molding to his shape just as Rosalie had claimed it did. But this time, it didn’t stop there.

The man yelped in horror, his blade clattering to the ground as the chair swallowed him completely. When it stopped, only his head was showing, his terrified eyes staring at Dimitri and Rosalie from the center of a rose made of scarlet material and cushioning.

Rosalie collapsed into giggles as the muscles in the captive’s neck strained. He was clearly trying to thrash around and free himself, but he was too firmly restrained to move.

Rosalie stopped laughing and spun around within the clasp of Dimitri’s hands. Exuberance poured off her, and she threw her arms around his neck.

“See!” she crowed. “We can do this!”