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“I’ll take option number two,” I said without hesitation.

It didn’t matter what it was, there was no chance I was going back to Neverthorn for any reason.

Not only was the place outright dangerous, being there would open the floodgates to so much trauma I wanted to forget.

Just the thought of reliving it had me breaking out in a cold sweat despite the warmth of the night.

“ Or ,” he continued, his gaze growing impossibly colder, “you can go back to your empty motel room over on Avenida Rio Branco.”

I cocked my head and stared at him, panic rising in my chest. “W-why would my room be empty?”

“Because we have Ophelia. We picked her up a few hours ago, right after you left.”

My stomach dropped and it took a second to manage a tight smile and meet his gaze again. The second I let him see my terror, any shot at negotiating with him was out the window.

Damn it. I’d been so careful, for so long. But after a life on the run, I’d clearly gotten sloppy of late. And now Opie was paying the price.

A wave of sick rolled through me, and I had to swallow it back.

“Joke’s on you,” I finally managed through numb lips.

“Do you have any idea how much that girl eats? Besides, we both know how much you love a chatterbox. She’ll have you begging me to take her back inside a week.

” I let out a laugh that sounded shriller than I’d intended, and Typhon cocked his head.

He held out his hand and Brick set a folder into his palm.

Typhon flipped it open and started reading.

“Ophelia Rose Baumgarten. Youngest daughter of Hecketa and Svenson Baumgarten. An illustrious family that goes back centuries and has produced some of the most accomplished Dwimmers in recorded history.” He looked up over the papers at me.

“They chose to cast little Ophelia aside without even sending her for schooling when they realized she would never be a great witch and possessed no Quirk to make her special.”

My chest tightened, but I couldn’t find the words to deny what he was saying.

Typhon handed the papers back to Brick. “You should’ve seen her face earlier tonight when she learned that Tarquinius himself, Sage of Neverthorn Academy and the professor who trained her father, had sent for her.

She wanted to make sure it was okay with you before she packed her bag, but once we were able to stage a phone call with “you” thanks to a truly excellent Mimic, she jumped right in the car. ”

Bastards.

When I’d come across Opie on the streets three years ago, she’d been a skinny ten-year-old kid in desperate need of a kind word and a good meal.

And unlike all the other kids – Dims and Dwimmers alike – who had passed through my little apartment for a hand up, she’d wound up staying.

She thought of me as her big sister now, which was a serious upgrade, because her actual big sister was a piece of shit, just like her parents.

The Baumgarten family could be as illustrious and wealthy as they wanted to be, but at the end of the day, they were ruthless elitists who mated solely based on bloodlines in an effort to build the perfect magical specimen with a rare and coveted Quirk – a singular magical trait that would set them apart from the rest.

Like horse breeders, only, you know, for people.

And they had over two centuries of Quirks to their credit.

There was Opie’s first cousin Malena, the only Switch known in Dwimmer history who could change her outward appearance to match someone else’s so completely that their own mother wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

There was her great grandmother Prudence, one of only three known Creators ever born.

The woman could literally defy the laws of physics and make matter from .

.. well, nothing. There was her second Cousin Anya, who could see the immediate future, making her the best fighter ever born until she was poisoned by her own sister, and, most recently, there was Ophelia’s own sister, Nilda, who could fly.

Then there was Opie.

She’d told me her story haltingly, in a broken voice.

When they realized she was struggling to learn even the most basic spellcasting at home, they hadn’t waited to see if she had a Quirk .

.. hadn’t given her a chance to go to Neverthorn and learn.

In their eyes, she was a pox on the Baumgarten name, so they cut her off, like a rotten limb. Removed her from the family tree.

I still hadn’t thought up a punishment harsh enough for those people yet, but when I did, I’d be the one doling it out.

I mentally added both Typhon and his boss, Sage Tarquinius, to the list of people I owed an ass-kicking on Opie’s behalf as I held his gaze. Because I knew something they didn’t.

Opie didn’t just not have a Quirk – she had no magic at all. Being told she did, and then finding out she didn’t? It would shatter her. Did they know that she had zero magic? Had her family told on her to the school?

“We know,” Typhon said, as if reading my mind. “She has no magic.”

“Why?” I asked, shaking my head. “What could possibly be so important to set her up to hope and believe in something we know isn’t ever going to happen? I’m not worth it, Typhon. There is no reason to want me back.”

His eyes hardened. “Once you agree to the terms, I can brief you on the basics. At the school, Tarquinius will fill you in on any more information as needed.”

I tried to let that digest, but his non-answer only gave me heartburn.

“So, what’s the play here? As long as I go with you, you guys are going to pretend to teach her magic and treat her well? Is that right?”

He inclined his head, his lips tight.

“And what assurances do I have that she won’t get hurt?

I’ve been there, Typhon. You can’t bullshit me.

Kids were encouraged to test out their own poorly mixed potions, pressured to attempt complex runes that backfired on them, asked to take on too much too soon .

.. and that was years ago. You can’t for one hot second make me believe it’s better now.

It’s going to be worse than ever—especially for Opie. ”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not for Opie. If you come, we will keep her safe. You have my word on that.”

I resisted the urge to tell him exactly how little his word meant to me. “And if I don’t?”

“Then she’ll be there all alone, wondering why you refused to join her as you promised in your call with her.

Wondering how to navigate this new life without any guidance from someone who has been in her shoes .

.. out of their depth, in a strange new place, not fitting in.

” He lifted one broad shoulder as if it didn’t matter to him either way.

“Eventually, assuming nothing truly awful befalls her, I imagine she’ll get kicked out for having no magic at all and come home a broken shell of the girl she used to be.

Only you won’t be here to comfort her. You’ll be busy serving a sentence for breaking a multitude of laws and she’ll wonder why she’s been abandoned, yet again. ”

He could’ve used a sledgehammer instead of a razor.

“Is she still nearby? Let me talk to her.”

“That won’t be necessary –”

“Let me talk to her right now, or we are done here. You can have me taken by the Runecoats or whatever you need to do, but I won’t come to Neverthorn.”

It was a risky play, because in order for him to believe it, I had to mean it.

And I did. But something told me that, for whatever reason, him returning to Neverthorn without me in tow wasn’t an option – not if they’d sent him all the way to South America to find me.

Not based on the way he’d spoken to Brick through the walkie-talkie.

So here we were, horns locked. Now to see who flinched first.

He stared me down long enough that I had to resist the urge to squirm, but then he let out a low growl. “I’ll need to mend the cut on your head. You’re bleeding and she’ll wonder why.”

“Fine.”

He rubbed his fingertips together and stepped closer, forcing me to crane my neck or have my face buried in his barrel-sized chest.

“Can you hurry up? You’re suffocating me.” I winced as the mending rune began to knit my skin back together.

“You smell like vodka,” he growled. “Are you drunk?”

His magic sank into my skin, tingling as the wound closed.

“I wish,” I muttered.

The second the cut was healed, he stepped back, tugged a walkie-talkie from his pocket and held it to his mouth.

“Bring the girl.”

He must’ve anticipated my demand because a sleek, black car pulled up less than two minutes later. Luckily, that was all the time I needed to plot my next move.

“Don’t try anything stupid,” Typhon muttered through clenched teeth as he reached for the back door. Before he could pull the handle, the door flew open, and a tiny copper-haired whirlwind tumbled out. Opie launched herself my way, nearly knocking the wind out of me.

“I still can’t believe it, Lo-lo. Tarquinius sent for me! They think I’ve got potential! They think I might be the best Dwimmer in the whole Baumgarten family, but I’m just a late bloomer. Tarquinius’s letter said the best usually are, and it might take me another year or two, but ...”

She pulled back and gazed up at me, her face lit with a joy I’d never seen.

“This was the wish I made at my past three birthdays, and now it’s coming true. I guess I am magic after all, ha!”

I swallowed back the burning rush of bile, forcing a smile. “I guess so,” I agreed with a nod. “That’s so cool.”

“Yeah, and Doyen Typhon says that he thinks I’m going to fit right in. I know I’m still behind in my training; once I’m at Neverthorn I’ll catch up.”

I sucked in a breath and tugged her close to me again before bending low and pressing my lips to her ear.

“I need you to trust me, Opie. Hold tight, and don’t let go.”

She would hate me for this. Maybe forever, but I had no choice. Better she hates me than go to Neverthorn and find out the truth.