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“How about you?” Leonid turns toward Aleksandr. “What would you like in exchange for your earth powers?”

“You disgust me,” Aleks says.

“Why?” Leonid rolls his eyes. “Because I’m willing to negotiate?”

“You capture women,” Aleksandr says. “You curse people to sleep for a hundred years on a greedy whim. You care nothing for the Russian people.”

“Enough.” Leonid begins to pace. “You think I really care what you think?” He shakes his head. “The real reason I’ve been asking you idiots questions is that I was waiting to secure my leverage.”

“Your what?” Grigoriy asks. “I fail to see how you might have any leverage at all.”

Leonid glances at his watch. “While the three of you are in here. . .” He tsks. “Your helpless wife is. . .” He turns and smiles. “Smart watches are easy to fry when your body is a conduit for electricity, but once you learn to keep that arm free of it, they are just the greatest thing, aren’t they? The little text messages you can get on them aren’t magic, but it really seems like it. Just instantaneous.” He clucks. “Using similar technological advancements, my very mortal supporters were able to catch your very mortal wife.”

Aleksandr’s face drains of all color. “She’s not here.”

“Yes, yes, you told her to stay at your home. It was cute.”

“But—”

“If you think I can’t spy on you in your house because of those wards, you’re dumber than I thought. Your plan wasn’t so bad, but you never really understood what I wanted. I’m not the kind of person to attack head on. If I was, I’d have done that ages ago. No, I like to wait until people are ready. I feign attacks a time or two, and then I wait until they think they’re safe and then—”

“My home’s warded,” Aleksandr says, color returning. “You couldn’t have broken inside.”

“But if she was stupid enough to follow her friends or desperate to have her chance to help, I could catch her when she walked out on her own.” Leonid pulls an iPad off a side table and spins it around. “Like this.”

Kristiana’s face—clear, crisp, her eyes wide—fills the screen. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

Aleksandr looks utterly wrecked, but I don’t feel much better than he does.

“She’s what you’ve wanted all along,” I say.

“Not quite,” Leonid says. “But you’re not entirely wrong.”

Grigoriy appears to have heard enough. He attacks, wind whipping through the room, yanking things off the walls, pulling heavy objects from the tables. Silverware, steak knives, they all head for the three men, and suddenly, he’s not the only one in motion.

“Behind me,” Alexei calls.

Mirdza and I both race behind him, huddling down low under the table.

“Do you think they really have Kris?” Mirdza whispers.

“I think she was angry about being excluded when their powers can’t even harm her,” I say. “I’m not surprised she followed us.”

“Where would she be held?” Mirdza asks. “Maybe while they’re distracted, we can get her loose.”

I do have a charm. I notice Mirdza’s also wearing a necklace with a similar stone. I bet she has one, too.

“It’s three on three,” I say. “But I brought a knife.” I pull it out of my thigh sheath. “And I’d love to save the day.”

While the men are fighting—which is pretty terrible to watch. Fire. Electricity. Water. Mounds of dirt that are coming from—oh. Right. Potted plants. And wind churning it all up, while Grigoriy flies through the air, shooting projectiles all around—we sneak for the door.

No one stops us.

At least, not until we get outside where there’s a human guard. “You’re not allowed to leave.”

I’m brandishing my dagger when he looks over my shoulder, his eyes widening. I suppose watching six men flinging fire, lightning, earth, wind, and water at one another would be a little off-putting. I’m not really very surprised when he turns and runs.

It is a nice surprise, though.