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“You can’thopeto stop him,” Ada warned. “Many onmyoji have already tried and failed. The only one with any chance of holding Titus back is Damen Abernathy.”

Jameson hummed, surveying me with a critical expression that caused a shiver to shoot down my spine. He addressed his nervous underling. “Get the glasses.”

The man’s hand shook as he touched his nose one more, glancing nervously between me and Jameson. I knew from the apprehension and tension in his face this wouldn’t bode well for me. “We haven’t had a chance to test out the spell yet,” he said to the onmyoji. “In theory, it should work but—”

“Well, we also didn’t plan on picking off Ducharme today either,” Jameson snapped. “But it just happened to be convenient, so I’m making the call to move forward. Withhishelp, we’re in a better place than we were, and we can certainly handle a dragon withthis.” He gestured vaguely in my direction. “Just do it.”

The two subordinates glanced at each other once—with the more confident one sneering once in my direction—before both left the room.

“What are you planning on doingexactly?” Gloria had been silent for a short time but chose that moment to speak up. Her eyes basically shone a pale gold, and her hair was falling over her left eye, as she warily watched the onmyoji.

I didn’t expect him to answer—but like most stupid villains, he did anyway.

“Well, the two of you have brought up some valid points,” he said. “IfDucharme manages to get away, there’s no way we’re coming out of this alive. And no matter how well prepared we are, it’s almost a guarantee that someone will slip up, somewhere.”

“What’s your point?” Ada asked.

“Well, the solution is right in front of me.” Jameson eyed roamed over me at this statement, his expression disturbingly critical. “I had other things in mind for the fae, but this would work just as well. A fae with noble blood is bound to have copious amounts of energy to spare.”

A thread of terror shot right down my spine, but before I could even do more than lift my head, Gloria leaned forward, arms straining against her restraints, and her voice was loud over Ada’s sudden snarling.

“That would be a grave mistake.” Gloria’s voice was a low warning. “Titus might be willing to overlook anything you do to him—he’s done it before, so long as you earn your way back to his good graces. But if you even attempt to use her against him in that way, you’ll have absolutely zero chance of making it out of this alive. He will dowhateverit takes to get at you.”

Jameson shot Gloria the strangest look, but I couldn’t hope to decipher it before the two men from earlier came back into the basement room—followed closely by someone new. It was impossible to tell if they were male or female, or to even make out their features. The person was short, and hunched forward, entirely hidden by a dark tan cloak.

“A witch?” Ada’s tone was incredulous. “Just how many people have joined the guild?”

Jameson ignored her, pointing at the large, empty space on the floor between Gloria and me. “Make it there,” he said. “I don’t want to take this too far—more chance of something going wrong.”

Make what?

I wanted to ask. Since this involved me, I probably had more of a right than anyone to know.

But I didn’t have long left to wonder. The witch moved quickly forward, pulling out a thick white piece of chalk from under their coverings before kneeling on the ground to draw lines and shapes in the dirt.

The antsy man from earlier hovered behind him, occasionally reaching into his pockets and pulling out small items that I couldn’t distinguish and handing them to the witch.

“What isthat?” Gloria asked as a short eternity passed and the two were finished. They’d moved back, allowing Jameson to walk the parameter with a serious look on his face.

My hands were flat against the floor, and I could feel the ground humming with the dangerous thrill of magic. It was different and deep—but there was also a quiet similarity to a magic I’d faced once before: Daniel Cole.

My skin tingled, and my blood raced, and even though I knew I was seeing things, it almost looked as though the pale thin lines of unbroken sigils were glowing. The ground shimmered with the added protection of whatever it was that had been set to the floor.

“A magic circle,” he said, not even glancing at her. His tone was filled with a bored mockery as he added, “obviously.”

“Obviously,” Gloria mocked. “But if you’re looking to just use her as something to source your powers from in order to contain Titus—which, I’m assuming, is your plan—there is no need for a magic circle. What’s this smell?”

The feeling of dread was growing stronger as I realized that she’d phrased her question in such a way so that I—who had less of an idea than anyone what was going on—would at least sort-of know what to expect.

Evil magic circle. Strange feelings. Bad smells.

Probably nothing good and might likely hurt and be quite deadly, if Gloria’s trepidation was anything to go by.

They were in an argument, but the words couldn’t reach past the pounding in my ears. The shackles around my wrist burned like a flame. I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the somewhat pretty—but definitely imposing—circle.

I didn’t even have to wonder if it was the same as what’d imprisoned me when I’d been taken by the Cole family. I already knew.

Still, I couldn’t hold back my slow, tight breaths. Nervous guy stopped fidgeting, and I could feel his eyes on me, same with the stoic lacky and the witch—but Jameson remained in a monologue, unsuccessfully preaching the merits of spiritual freedom to Ada and Gloria’s unreceptive ears.