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I hold the dagger at her throat. “You’re connected with a network of illegal safe houses that harbor crimin—”

“Refugees.”

“Most of whom have toushana—”

“Which they’re forbidden to use. And as you know, Mr. Wexton—yes, I know who you are. I know a bit about your family, too.” She doesn’t balk, despite the blade at her neck. “Magic strengthens with use. So their not using whatever they could be capable of is a moot point. Because after a time, they have no magic at all.”

“It is not that simple, and you know that is unproven. Toushana in the body is a deadly risk. They are still a threat to the Order!”

“Am I the threat in this cell? Was I the threat in that hotel?”

I yank my blade from her neck and pace.

“It frustrates you because what I’m saying makes sense. What the brotherhood does is inhumane. Senseless violence on harmless people.”

I storm up to her. “Draguns protect people from those who would harm them! Have you seen the history books? Darkbearers would peel the skin off bones for fun. Toushana insidiously infects people, giving them an appetite for power at any cost.” I blink and see my father’s face when Beaulah knocked his loyalty pin off his chest. The only thing she’s ever done that I still agree with.

He’d become incensed for a stronger grasp of toushana. He relished the power toushana gave him over people. I don’t know where his ambition began and the toxic magic warping his brain ended. He was practically dead to me before then.

“Do you know the name Quell Marionne?”

Hearing her name from my own lips brings those moments in the ballroom back to mind. Knox grabs my chest, her hands lightning fast. I try to get away, but icy tendrils dig into my skin around my ribs, hooking onto my heart. I can’t move. The blue in her eyes darkens as she stares right at my center. My heart squeezes, my whole body growing colder.

“Mmm. Yes.” She shoves me away with such force I stumble back. “I’ve seen a lot of books. But I’ve lived a lot of life, too. And I spent most of it protecting the people I care about. That says more about me than anything else. It seems you and I are the same that way.”

“I am nothing like you.”

“Your kor tells a different story. It’s been split twice. Playful curiosity could make a person split it once, perhaps. But only desperate love would make a person do it a second time. Who do you love enough to give your kor to, Jordan?”

The world drains of color. I put more distance between us. Being reminded of my feelings for Quell, feelings I should not have, is like being stabbed over and over.

“I can guess.”

I feel for my fire dagger, but she grabs my wrist. I try to snatch away from her, but her hold on me is a manacle. “You put on a good mask.” She whispers, “But I see you.”

My heart lodges in my throat. I try to argue back, but no words come.

“And because I see you, I will tell you that I knew her briefly. Finding her would be a good thing.” She releases me and I scramble to the door, ripping my fire dagger through the shadowy barrier. In the corridor, I try to slow my raging heart.

“Does my cooperation buy my people any mercy?” She rolls to the gate, peering through the translucent door, her stare still piercing. “It should. That’s fair.”

“Fair?” I manage, still breathless. “What is fairness?” I leave her there, my mind spiraling. I’ve tethered myself to a girl I used to love, who I now have to kill because duty demands it. Fairness isn’t a thing in this world. At every step, I’m haunted by regret that I allowed myself to love her. I jab the elevator button. I take a ride up to the main floor, and I’m at my desk before I can no longer feel Knox’s unnatural touch on my skin.

Quell has to be dead to me, or our history will always be a weapon. I’ve got to double down on our efforts to find safe houses. Gathering my notes on suspected locations, I split the pile into thirds and fire off a message to Charlie and Yani. I need them both back in, stat. We will lead three separate teams and raid these spots at the same time.

I will find you, Quell.

And when I do, you’re dead.

Twenty-Four

Quell

Beaulah’s Healer hovers over me, her yellow-gemmed bracelet dangling. She is an older woman with a stubborn bottom lip that wouldn’t smile if she glued it in place. She works her magic, wiping a hand along my body, occasionally jerking her wrist or drumming her fingers.

“I assure you I’m fine,” I say, unsure what exactly she’s doing. But I can feel her Shifting magic moving things around inside me. “I have a session with Headmistress.”

“Just another moment.”