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‘You’re anchored to me through that cuff,’ Aaron said, as if surprised she didn’t know. ‘Did you really think you could run?’

‘But … it didn’t work like that before,’ Joan said. She was horrified. Corvin Argent had used the words anchored and cuffed, and he hadn’t been able to move Joan around.

‘Well, I don’t know why,’ Aaron said. ‘It should have. But I suppose it malfunctioned when you travelled with Corvin.’ He tilted his head. ‘When did you land?’ he said curiously. ‘We were never able to work it out.’

Joan shook her head. Why was he asking that? She and Nick had landed in the same time and place as Corvin. She still didn’t understand why the Court hadn’t been waiting when they’d landed.

‘A question for the guard house, I suppose,’ Aaron said.

A shiny black Jaguar waited in the parking area, a grey-capped driver inside.

‘Get in, please,’ Aaron told Joan. The flush was gone, and his face was very pale in the moonlight. Beside the driveway, the side of the house loomed, huge and intimidating, the pale stone wall fortress-like.

Joan baulked. If she got in that car, her options would become very limited. She pressed her fingertips to the golden mark again, as surreptitiously as she could. Unmake, she told it. Unmake. Nothing happened; the tattoo remained unbroken gold.

‘Oh, just get in,’ Aaron said. ‘I don’t like using that cuff.’ And that seemed oddly true. The Argents had appeared to enjoy their power, but Aaron had been stiffly reluctant every time he’d pulled Joan along with him.

‘You don’t have to do this,’ Joan said pleadingly. ‘It’s not too late to just let me go.’

Aaron opened the car door and gestured without speaking. Joan’s body twitched into motion. She ground her teeth as her limbs manoeuvered themselves into the seat. How could she reach him? Was he even accessible? They’d met each other last time under such different circumstances—both of their families killed, corralled together on the run, saving each other’s lives.

Aaron slid in beside her. ‘Get on the A4 and travel east,’ he told the driver. ‘I’ll tell you when to turn.’

The vast size of the Oliver estate became even more evident by car. The grounds around them shifted from lawn to trees to a field before they reached the road. As the driver turned into Richmond proper, Joan found herself watching Aaron. Just like with Nick, some stupid part of her still saw him as her Aaron.

At the same time, fear was unfurling in her as the reality of the situation hit. How long would this car ride be? If she couldn’t break the cuff, Aaron was going to force her into the guards’ custody—and then what? ‘You said they wanted to question me?’

There was a slight pause before Aaron answered. ‘They’ll want to know who’s been harbouring you, for one thing.’

Joan’s mouth went dry. ‘No one’s been harbouring me.’ She could hear how unconvincing that sounded. At least she’d left her Hunt bracelet on the boat …

‘You can fight the Griffith interrogation as much as you like,’ Aaron said. ‘But you’ll lose to the guards in the end.’ This had an odd note, as if he was speaking from experience.

‘You can’t want to hand me over to them,’ Joan whispered.

Aaron had fallen into shadow again. His voice was hard. ‘I don’t know why you keep saying that.’

Because I know you, Joan thought. I know how horrified you were when you were given this mandate by the Court.

But then headlights lit the car, and Joan saw the naked loathing on Aaron’s face. That filth, he’d said. And that was how he was looking at her now, like he despised her; like he wanted her dead. ‘After you answer their questions, the guards will execute you,’ Aaron said. ‘And I’m going to stay and watch.’

Joan’s heart felt as heavy as lead. ‘You’re going to watch?’ she whispered disbelievingly. Edmund enjoyed seeing people scared and in pain, but Aaron wasn’t like that. ‘You’re going to watch them kill me?’

Even though he’d been the one to say it, Joan’s question seemed to surprise Aaron into a real reaction; sick horror flitted across his face.

‘You don’t even know why they want me dead,’ Joan whispered. ‘You were told to look out for people like me, but you don’t know why.’ Joan didn’t even know why.

‘I know why,’ Aaron said. He’d regained his equilibrium. ‘I’m doing it because people like you shouldn’t exist. You should never have been born.’

Edmund’s words in Aaron’s voice. Joan’s chest felt so tight, she could hardly breathe.

‘Maybe it’s tempting to think that you know me,’ he said, and his grey eyes were serious. ‘I’m rather well-known. But you have no idea how much joy I’ll take in your execution.’ On some level, he meant it—Joan could see it. Some part of him really was anticipating her death.

And just like that, Joan was near tears. She’d known that he’d meant a lot to her—she’d thought about him every day—but she hadn’t realised how much until this moment. Until he’d shown her that he didn’t feel it himself anymore. By the time the driver pulled into a parking space, it was taking everything Joan had to keep her eyes dry.

She felt a tug on her elbow. Aaron had gotten out of the car and was beckoning Joan to join him.

‘Don’t make me drag you out,’ he said.