What the hell had I told them? Nothing, I was sure of it. Mind games. Even if they used some kind of truth serum, I needed to be awake for that, and I’d been knocked out since they’d grabbed me.

Speaking of mind games, they’d left me in darkness. Really not the road to friendship.

A while later the door opened again. Minutes, hours, I didn’t know. The light flicked on and a single set of hesitant footsteps crossed the room. Roni. I winced.

She put a chair in front of me, then settled in for a visit.

For a minute, we only looked at each other. Then she said, “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

If I’d had my spells, I’d have zapped her with an energy bolt for that one. Maybe even accidentally launched a lethal one.

“They aren’t going to hurt you,” she said. “You’re too important. As soon as you know everything, you’ll understand why I did it. Then everything will be okay.”

And we’ll be bestest friends forever, Savannah. I just know it.

I’d met girls like Roni in school. They thought I was cool. The rebellious, misunderstood outsider. I must need friends. So they’d applied for the job.

Problem was, I already had friends. Not close ones—not in school anyway—but I didn’t want more, and even if I did, I wouldn’t want them. Those girls didn’t think I’d be fun to hang out with. They just wanted to siphon off some of my cool factor . . . and have a guard dog who’d attack every stuck-up bitch who’d ever made them cry.

Roni looked at me and saw everything she wanted to be. Tough, yes. Confident, definitely. But most of all, what Roni wanted to be was a supernatural. She wanted power, and I had it in spades. Or so she thought.

My instinct was to treat her the same way I’d treated those girls in high school. Slap her down fast and hard, before the rejection hurt too much. Only in this case, that would be a really, really stupid thing to do.

“So,” I said. “Giles and Althea—”

“Oh, aren’t they amazing? Althea has taught me so much, and she’s been so nice. And Giles. When they tell you who he is, you’re going to flip.”

“Who he is?”

“Who he really is.” Her eyes glittered. “And how old he really is. I can’t talk about that, so don’t ask me, but it will make all the difference. It did with me.” She inhaled. “It’s beyond anything you could imagine.”

Oh, I had a good imagination. I suspected Giles and Althea did too, spinning tales of glory for their acolytes.

“What I don’t get is why they need me,” I said. “Giles said I already gave them the information they wanted, though I can’t remember saying . . .” I trailed off and faked a look of dawning realization. “Did you tell them I said something? If you lied to them—”

“I wouldn’t do that. You did tell me something.” A shimmer of cunning lit her eyes. “You just didn’t know it. Not that it was your fault, and don’t worry, nobody’s going to get hurt. They just wanted to know where—”

She stopped.

Wanted to know where what? I racked my brain to remember all the conversations we’d had. She’d never taken an interest in anything—

No, she had taken an interest. In one person.

I remembered her fan-girl moment when she’d overheard me mention Hope. Asking me if she was in Miami. If she could meet her.

Roni was a member of some unknown supernatural sect that wanted to know the whereabouts of Lucifer’s daughter. And we were investigating a group that wanted to summon Lucifer.

Oh, shit.

“This group,” I said. “They’re—”

The door squeaked open and Althea’s quiet voice cut through the room.

“I think that’s enough, Veronica.”

Roni leapt to her feet. “I was just—”

“Keeping Savannah company. I appreciate that. Right now, though, there are folks waiting to meet her.”

Two people followed Althea in. A guy and a girl, not much older than me. Both brown haired. Both average height. There was nothing to make them stand out—not a scar, not a tattoo, not a piercing. Even their clothing was standard college wear. But I’d seen them before. Starring in the video shot at Walter Alston’s estate.

“This is Severin,” Althea said. “And his twin sister, Sierra.”

My gorge rose, remembering what they’d done to Alston. I looked away.

Sierra laughed. “You didn’t tell us she was shy.”

She slid forward and brushed her fingers across my cheek. I snapped and managed to catch the tip of one in my teeth before she yanked back with a gasp.

Severin laughed. “Not so shy after all, sis. That’ll teach you to keep your hands where they belong.”

“Oh, I’ll teach her where my hands belong. No witch brat—”

“Enough,” Althea said. “Your job is to escort her to the meeting hall. Now untie her.”

eighteen

I knew better than to fight back—I’d only establish myself as a difficult prisoner needing more guards. Instead, just look and learn. Take note of the players. Study their personalities and weaknesses.

As I was being led from my room, my job was to pay attention. Learn the layout. Form an escape route. A worthy plan, one that would have been a lot easier to put into motion had I not been blindfolded the whole fucking time.

Still, I paid attention. How far did we walk? How many turns did we make? What did the floor feel like under my sneakers? Was it concrete? Wood? Carpet? What did I smell? What did I hear?

There was a dampness to the air I associated with basements. Underground then? The hard floor—likely concrete—suggested I was right. That made it tough. When I’d been held captive before, it’d been underground, and I remembered the hellish time Elena had getting out. It had been so difficult that she’d had to return for me later, with Paige and the others.

I shoved down the flare of panic. This wasn’t the same situation. There were no “cells” here. Probably no other captives. Just me. Special. As always.

When they took off the blindfold, I was in a room with ten people, including Roni, Althea, Giles, and the Torture Twins. I filed away the names of the newcomers, storing them until they did something to prove they might be dangerous or useful. For now, they were five more bodies to get past on my way to the exit.