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Well, I had advantages now too.

"I'm already involved," I said, my voice deadly calm. "And I'm not the one who should be worried about walking away."

He laughed as if I'd told a particularly amusing joke. "What are you going to do, exactly? Call the cops? Scream for help?" Hisgaze raked over me dismissively. "You don't look like you could hurt a fly."

I felt it then; that same power that had manifested when Pride had triggered my anger, when I'd demonstrated my abilities in his office. But stronger now, more focused, fed by the righteous fury burning in my chest and untampered by any fear or doubt.

Energy gathered in my palms, a tingling heat that spread to my fingertips like electricity. Without conscious thought, I reached for the woman's terror, drawing it toward me, letting it fuel the power building inside me. Crimson light bloomed between my hands, illuminating the alley with an eerie, pulsing glow.

The man's smug expression faltered, confusion replacing confidence as he took an involuntary step backward. "What the hell–"

I didn't let him finish. I extended my hands toward him, channeling the energy outward in a focused stream. I wasn't trying to hurt him physically–I was doing something much worse.

The crimson magick struck him like a physical force, enveloping him in a swirling mist of pure terror. He staggered backward, eyes widening as the fear hit him—not his own fear, but the concentrated essence of every woman who had ever been cornered, threatened, made to feel helpless and small.

"What are you doing to me?" he gasped, his voice rising in panic as his hands flew to his chest.

I advanced on him, the magick growing stronger as I fed it with my anger, my sense of justice, my complete lack of fear. The crimson energy darkened, taking on deeper hues as it showed him exactly what it felt like to be powerless, to be afraid, to have someone bigger and stronger decide your fate.

"Teaching you how it feels," I said, my voice sounding distant to my own ears, layered with power, "to be cornered. To be afraid. To have someone ignore your no."

He clutched at his chest, breath coming in ragged gasps as the magick showed him visions of his own vulnerability.

"Stop," he pleaded, dropping to his knees as the weight of terror pressed down on him. "Please stop. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

The woman he'd been threatening pressed herself against the wall, her expression now as fearful of me as it had been of him. She inched along the bricks, then slipped away, casting one last frightened glance at both of us before disappearing around the corner.

The man whimpered, curling into himself as the crimson energy pressed down on him like a living weight. He was experiencing pure terror now, the kind that stripped away all pretense and left only quivering animal fear. Part of me wanted to see how far I could push it, and wanted to break him completely.

"Juniper!" The voice cut through my concentration like a knife, breaking the spell. I turned, the crimson energy still swirling around my fingers, to find Lust standing at the alley entrance.

His expression was one of shock–eyes wide, lips parted in surprise. But there was something else there too, something that looked almost like recognition. And approval.

The man took advantage of my distraction, scrambling to his feet and bolting past me. He gave Lust a wide berth as he fled, not looking back once as he disappeared into the night.

"What did you do?" Lust asked, his voice lacking its usual sarcastic edge. He approached cautiously, hands slightly raised.

I tried to explain, but the words wouldn't come. The power rush was fading, leaving me dizzy and disoriented. The alleyseemed to tilt around me, and I swayed on my feet as the full weight of what I'd just done crashed over me.

I'd nearly broken that man's mind. Had wanted to. Had enjoyed it.

Lust closed the distance between us in two quick strides, reaching out to steady me. His touch sent a jolt of awareness through my body–warm, grounding, unexpectedly gentle.

"You need to calm down," he said, his usual sardonic tone replaced with concern. "Let me take you home."

"Okay," I agreed, hating the weakness in my voice. I wanted to refuse, to insist I was fine, but my legs felt like they might give out at any moment. The adrenaline crash combined with whatever magickal energy I'd expended left me drained in a way I hadn't anticipated.

Lust kept a steadying hand at my elbow as we walked back toward the cottage, his touch surprisingly respectful. We moved in silence for several minutes.

"Diana sent me," he finally said, his voice carefully neutral. "She felt the magickal disturbance, and was worried about you. Good thing too–that could have gone very badly."

"She was monitoring me?" I asked, though I wasn't sure if I was more grateful or annoyed.

"She cares about you. We all do." He paused. "What happened back there? That level of power...it's not normal, even for someone with your abilities."

I glanced at him sideways, trying to gauge his reaction. His expression remained inscrutable in the dim light, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his concern.

"I tried an experiment," I admitted. "With my emotional alchemy. I wanted to see if I could extract my own emotions–specifically, the fear and confusion about being...reanimated." The word still felt strange in my mouth. "It worked. Maybe too well."