He looked back at me, still on the fence. I jerked my muzzle, telling him to go inside. He hesitated, but he didn’t have a choice—I couldn’t leap through with him blocking the hole. He quickly cleared the broken glass with his sleeve, then hopped down. It must have been a long jump because I heard him hit hard and let out an oomph. I listened for any sound of real pain. None came. When I was sure he was fine, I jumped off the fence—in the other direction.

As I tore down the alley, I thought I heard his voice. I flattened my ears and kept going. This was the only way. Otherwise, the moment they came around that corner, they’d know we were inside the shop and they’d surround the building. The witch only picked up one presence. If they saw me, they wouldn’t go after him.

If I ran, he’d be safe. They’d never know he was there, and once I’d led them out of the alley, he could run. Maybe he’d try to find me afterward. Or maybe he’d finally realize the danger and decide it wasn’t worth it—I wasn’t worth it. I almost hoped he did, for his sake.

I whipped around the corner. I heard the witch cry out. I saw legs ahead of me, but I didn’t look up, just kept running, ears down, eyes slitted, gaze fixed on the end of the alley. Get to the end. Barrel past them. Through them if I had to. Get to the road and let them chase me . . . while Ash escaped.

Antone leaped in front of me. I didn’t look up to see his face, but his smell filled my nostrils. I hit him in the legs and he flipped up over my back. A dart whizzed past me. I hunkered lower, putting all my power into one last sprint. Behind me, I heard the witch say something. Words in another language. A spell? It didn’t matter. I was almost to the street. Whatever she hit me with, however much it hurt, I’d just keep—

I stopped.

I just . . . stopped. My legs froze, like someone had disconnected the link to my brain. I skidded muzzle-first to the ground.

“Tranq her,” the witch said. “I can’t hold the binding spell for long.”

My brain shouted orders. Jump up. Fight. Run. But my body just lay there, as if paralyzed, my eyes fixed open, staring at nothing. I felt a dart hit my flank. Then another. Antone said, “That’s enough!” and the world went dark.

EIGHTEEN

I DREAMED I WAS sick with fever, my stomach cramping, sweat pouring off me. I was home in my own bed and Dad was sitting beside me, wiping my face with a cold cloth, saying nothing, just looking after me, as he’d done all of the rare times I was sick. Mom took care of me, too, but she did it by making soup and herbal tea and keeping my bedding fresh and dry and getting my medicine on time. She needed to keep busy. Dad was the one who’d just sit with me.

I wallowed in the dream even after I realized that’s all it was. Slowly, though, I started waking and I felt the real burn of fever and the roil of nausea. Someone really was at my bedside, wiping my face. My first thought was “Daniel,” and I opened my eyes, smiling, then saw Calvin Antone beside me. I scrambled back, hissing before I realized I was in human form. My stomach lurched and I retched. Antone grabbed a bowl from the floor and pushed it at me, but I shoved it away and sat up, clutching the sheets and looking around.

I was in a bed, dressed in a T-shirt and pajama pants. A man I didn’t recognize stood just inside the door. He was wearing a suit, but he didn’t look like security. He was too old, for one thing—at least fifty. And he held himself with an air that said he didn’t take orders from anyone. He was tall—over six feet—with blond hair and bright blue eyes.

“Finally,” he said. “Tell her I need her to answer some questions.”

Antone glowered at him. “She speaks English.”

“I’m sure she does. But she doesn’t know me and I don’t know her. I’m sure you can impress upon her the importance of answering.”

“Is that a threat?” I said.

The man’s blue eyes cooled. “I would suggest you modulate your tone with me, young lady.”

“Because you’re some important Cabal guy?”

“His name is Mattias Nast,” Antone said. “He’s the CEO’s nephew.”

Ash had told us that each Cabal was run by a family. The CEO and his sons were at the top, but a nephew would still have clout. Significant clout, judging by Antone’s tone.

“I don’t care who he is,” I muttered. “I’ve got a good idea what he wants to know and the answer is ‘go to hell.’”

The man’s eyes chilled more. “Antone, you will tell your daughter—”

“I’m not his daughter. He’s a sperm donor. My father is Rick Delaney.”

Antone leaned closer. “I know you’re angry, Maya, but you aren’t making this easy.”

“I don’t want to make it easy. I know what you want to ask me—how to find Ash. I have no idea where he is or how to contact him. You don’t believe me? Use magic or truth serum or whatever else you’ve got. The answer won’t change.”

I could tell by their expression that I’d been right about the question, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Ash had escaped. Good.

So where was he? Long gone. I was sure of that. Once I was captured, he’d run and keep running. It hurt, knowing I’d found him only to lose him again, but at least he’d be safe.

“We’ll discuss this again later, Maya,” Antone said. “For now—”

“Later?” Nast said. “I have three Cabal security teams waiting for her answer. Do you realize how much this operation is costing?”

“No more than it’s worth,” Antone said. “Or you wouldn’t still be here. If your teams are so valuable, they should be competent enough to find my son without Maya’s help.”

“Your daughter isn’t the only one who needs to modulate her tone. Don’t forget who you’re speaking to, Calvin.”

Antone turned to me. “We’ll discuss this later. Right now, there’s someone waiting to see you.” He smiled. “Someone I know you’ll want to see.”

“Daniel,” I said, sitting up. “Is he okay? And Corey?”

Silence. I looked from Antone to Nast, and I realized Daniel wasn’t here. I felt a flicker of disappointment, but it vanished when I realized what that meant.

“They’re still out there,” I said. “You don’t have them.”