I JERKED AWAKE WITH A START TO THE SOUND OF MY MOM coming in the front door, keys jangling. Blinking in the darkness, I pulled my clock over and peered at it. “Shit,” I whispered. It was after eight. I’d slept for four hours.

“Jemmie?”

“Yeah,” I croaked. My mom was in the doorway and flicking on the lights as I swung my legs off the bed.

“You all right?”

“I’m fine. Just needed a nap.”

She pulled the tie from her dark hair and it cascaded messily over her shoulders. “I smell like french fry grease. I’m gonna take a shower and put some dinner on. You want to stay in and watch a movie with me?”

“I was actually going to head back to the festival. We still haven’t found Alex.”

Mom’s brows drew together. “Did anyone try a locator spell?”

“We’ve tried a lot of things.” I didn’t want to get into it right now—all I could do was hope that she’d magically be there when I got back to the festival. “I’ll keep you posted.”

She nodded. “Did you catch up with Darek today?”

“Um.” I played with the frayed edge of my bedspread. “Very briefly.”

“What about Crowe?”

I sighed. “No comment. But I don’t think either thing is going anywhere. They’re both wrong for me.”

“Doesn’t always mean it won’t go anywhere,” she said, and it was to her credit that she only sounded mildly bitter.

“Mom, did you know why Dad left?”

“I knew he’d done some things he regretted and had a falling-out with Michael. But our relationship was coming apart before that. So it was really the combination of the two. I know it was hard for you.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “I wish one of you had explained it to me. I thought he left because he was disappointed in me. I know that sounds totally childish, but it made sense at the time. In some ways it still does. The thing about me he’s most interested in is magic, and whether I’m doing it.”

“He loves you, Jem. Might not always be good at showing it, but he does. Magic is the thing he thought he had in common with you. When it looked like you might be a little more like me…” She raised her arms from her sides to show off how absolutely unmagical she was, but I knew she had a bit of it in there. In fact, there was the faintest of pearlescent glows around her in this light.

“I’m not like either of you.” I had magic. And I had this other thing, the sensitivity to it. Somehow, I had to figure out how to manage both in order to do what Jane said, to play my part. “But I’m trying to figure out where I belong.”

“You will. And… I’m sorry about Darek. Less sorry about Crowe.”

I rolled my eyes miserably. “Yeah, me too.”

She left me then, and a moment later I heard the shower start to run. Stretching, I stood up, ran a brush through my tangled hair, and paused in front of the closet, thinking of all my plans for my casting kit, the spells I wanted to practice.

Then I remembered that the man I’d wanted to protect had beaten up a guy just for looking at me funny. “Seems like he can protect himself,” I muttered, then grabbed my keys and headed out. I wanted to know if Alex or Katrina had shown up. If they had, the festival was the place they’d be.

I paused at the front door, remembering the bottle of Jack behind my bed. Should I try to dull myself down to get through the night? My fingers tightened on the doorjamb.

“No,” I whispered. This was something I needed to face. Crowe had been right about that—I had to be brave enough to push through it, and I wanted to be sharp in case I needed my actual magic. Decision made, I walked out of the house and left the bottle behind.

The lot was packed when I arrived back at the festival, and people were streaming onto the grounds for the second night. As I got out of the car, magic hung above the tents like a pollution haze, and the scents danced in the air, flickering through my awareness. I took a deep breath and forced myself to focus, mentally tallying what I detected, pulling each color and smell apart.

Venemon. Animalia. Animus. Invictus. Inlusio. Locant. Arma. Terra. Omnias. I had run into each one and could now distinguish them if I was paying close enough attention. None of them smelled like the terrible smoldering stench I had detected just before Crowe and I were hit with lethal hexes. I wished I knew what it was—but I was also glad I couldn’t pick it up nearby.

“I can do this,” I whispered, shuddering. Without the benefit of alcohol, it all felt sharper and brighter, but, I admit, I also felt slightly more in control of it. I headed up the path slowly, behind crowds of people. Some were gossiping about Katrina and Alex disappearing, and some were whispering about the tension between the clubs. I quickened my steps, heading for the Medici tent. I didn’t really want to talk to Crowe, but I thought maybe Lori would be able to give me an update.

I pushed through the hanging flaps over the entrance to the tent and ran face-first into Crowe’s chest. He caught my arms and looked down at me, smiling. “Where have you been?”

I pulled myself out of his grasp. “Home. I was tired.”

He frowned. “Are you okay?”

“Fine. Did the meeting go well? Any leads?”

“No leads. Killian didn’t even bother to show up, and his people claim they don’t know where he is—they’re grumbling that maybe he’s missing, too, but I’m not buying it.” His expression had gone dark and dangerous. “Especially since it turns out his prospect wasn’t missing after all.”

“Oh, really?”

He went on, seemingly too wrapped up in what had happened to detect the suspicion in my voice. “I haven’t been able to reach Flynn for the past few hours, either. I’ve got Jackson and Brooke out hunting for him. I met with the leaders of the other clubs. Ronan, Terrence, and Ren volunteered members to guard the perimeter, and I did as well. Everyone works in teams. No one goes it alone. Assuming we manage not to kill each other, it seems like the best way.”

“True,” I said. “Walking through the woods by oneself seems like a great way to get beat up.”

Crowe arched an eyebrow. “Yeah,” he said, drawing out the word. “I guess so.”

I looked at him steadily. “Did Darek say what happened to him?”

Crowe tilted his head to the side and looked at me through narrowed eyes. “He said he got drunk and ended up in a ditch, basically.”

“And everyone believed that?”

“I wanted to question him about my sister, but he insists she drove off alone. Not sure I believe him, but I can’t push it right now, not with Katrina missing and Ronan stomping around about it. I’ve got Hardy keeping an eye on him, though. If he has done something to them—”

“He was the one who was hurt, Crowe.”

“That’s what he wants everyone to believe, sure.”

“Ugh.” I turned and stalked away, but Crowe grabbed my arm and wheeled me around.

“What’s wrong with you tonight?” he asked. “I was worried about you this evening. Jane said she spoke to you. I wondered if maybe she said something, or—”

“What’s wrong with me? I thought I knew you, and then I come to find out that you’re the type of person who beats up innocent people!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Darek,” I shouted. “You jumped him in the woods!”

“Who told you that?” Crowe’s face went from confused to grim in a fraction of a second. “Oh, I get it. I saw the look he gave you in the tent last night and wondered about you guys. I mean, I knew you two hooked up last year, but—”

“Hooked up? He was my friend!” I yelled. “And believe me, I really needed one.”

Crowe held his hands up, but no magic was coming from them now. “You think I beat up your friend? That’s the kind of guy you think I am?”

“You don’t exactly have a history of hashing things out nonviolently.”

Crowe ran his tongue along his bottom lip, and my stomach tightened. “At least I know what you think of me now. Did your dad help convince you? He came to town just looking for an excuse to bind me. Meanwhile no one’s taking a close look at Killian Delacroix, who can plant thoughts in people’s heads and make them do stuff they aren’t even aware of. Everyone’s forgotten who his brother was and what he did. That guy needs to be taken off the street, Jemmie. He’s dangerous.”

I stared at him. “So are you, Crowe.”

“Yes, I am. I won’t apologize for that. I took responsibility for this club and everything that came with it. I’ll defend it to the death if I have to.” His jaw clenched, and he looked around. Then he pulled me off the path, heading for a more isolated spot at the bottom of a low hill. “I think Killian is trying to finish what his brother started. I think that’s why he’s here. He’s good at messing with people’s minds, so no one would suspect. He could have even used Katrina to attack us this morning—that’s exactly the kind of thing he could do.”

I thought back to this morning. I hadn’t sensed much animus magic, crimson and coppery, during that brawl, though there had been red streaks mixed with black around the two people who had cursed us. “Killian seems to want peace more than almost anyone else,” I said, thinking back to what he’d said in the beer tent, maybe trying to convince myself.

“All he wants is to gather one kindled for each type of magic,” Crowe explained, his eyes bright with fierce hope. “Think about it—Alex, venemon. Gunnar, arma. Katrina, animalia. If he’s got Flynn now, that’s inlusio. Darek doesn’t have a dominant power, right? So he didn’t fit my theory, but the others do. And it turns out Darek was never missing to begin with.”

“Crowe—”

Crowe’s mouth snapped shut around whatever he’d been planning to say next. “You don’t believe me.”

“I don’t know,” I said quietly. “He’d have to kidnap a lot of people, and this isn’t exactly familiar ground for him. Why would he risk it here? If he wanted to do something like the cruori spell, why not try last year, on his home turf?”

“Because it was his home turf,” he said in a flat voice.

“I hope you can get more evidence before you take this theory public—because tensions are high already.”

“I’m not stupid, Jem,” he said. “But Jane said something big was going to happen, and someone doing the cruori would certainly count as big.”

And she’d said I was a part of it. I just wish I knew how. “Did she say anything else this afternoon?”

“She sure did.” Crowe’s nostrils flared as he let out an exasperated breath. “She said that by this time tomorrow, someone would be dead. She wouldn’t say more than that.”

“Great. Really helpful.” I rubbed the sudden goose bumps that had rippled across my arms.

“In the way only Jane can manage.” Crowe pulled out his cell phone and typed out a text. “I have to go take a shift with Ren and a few others. Boone will keep an eye on you. Make sure you’re safe.”

“I don’t need—”

“Yes,” Crowe said, his voice rising. “You do.”

“I’m not going to fight with you.” Looking at his face was painful. Was he lying about hurting Darek, or was Darek the liar? Or… could Killian have made Darek believe that he’d been beaten up by Crowe? Could he have manipulated Crowe into beating up Darek or hurting Katrina? I rubbed my hands over my face, wishing I could figure all this out.

Wishing I had Alex with me, to talk it through like we always did.

“Ho! Just got done hanging out with three big hairy men,” Boone called as he crested the rise and headed down to us. “Time to hang out with a pretty girl.”

I waved at Boone before returning my attention to Crowe. “Is my dad helping with the perimeter guard?”

Crowe nodded. “He’s with my group. You know, to make sure I don’t beat up powerless kids in the woods.”

I hung my head back. “Look—”

“I won’t defend myself to you, Jemmie. I shouldn’t have to.” He leaned in, and I inhaled his smoke-and-honey scent. Having his face this close to mine made it feel like the ground had just dropped out from beneath my feet. “You know me better than that,” he murmured. Then he turned and walked away.

Boone clapped Crowe on the shoulder as they passed each other, then came to stand next to me. “Boy’s got the weight of the world on his shoulders,” he said quietly. “Not many are strong enough to carry it.”

I watched Crowe disappear over the rise, just aching. His father had literally torn someone apart to avenge the death of a family member. Crowe had told Hardy he had to be ready to do anything to protect the people he was responsible for. Between Jane’s prediction that death would find someone here at the festival and my own swirling sense that things were about to explode, I could barely contain my dread.

“Let’s take a walk,” said Boone. “You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.”

I agreed gratefully, and we set out along the edge of the woods. Maybe a circuit of the entire huge field would clear my head enough to allow me to socialize in the beer tent without bowing to the temptation to drink myself into a place where my fear for Alex and Crowe and Darek and everyone else couldn’t find me. “Boone, how much do you know about Michael’s death?” I asked.

“The crash was pretty bad. Looked like he swerved to avoid something in the road, and that was it.” He shook his head sadly. “Happened pretty quick. I never thought it would be so bad, if I went down that way.”

“And he was alone when it happened?”

Boone nodded. “He’d told me and Crowe he had something he needed to check out. Wouldn’t let either of us go with him.”

He’d known he was going to die, though. “Why wouldn’t he take you with him?”

“Said he had to deal with it on his own. We didn’t know he was going out for the last time. I felt like shit—it took us two days to find him. Not much out there.”

I thought about that. “Why does Crowe think he was murdered?”

He sighed. “The coroner’s report said Michael’s heart muscle was lacerated in an unusual way. She said it could have been trauma from the accident, but Crowe didn’t buy it. He believes it could have been a curse.”

“So either another kindled attacked him with venemon or someone used a cut against him?”

“No cut is that strong. Few kindled could do that kind of curse anyway.” He blew out a long breath and tugged at his beard. “In fact, Crowe’s the only one who might have been strong enough to do it.”

“Or Michael himself,” I said, thinking of my father’s description of what they’d done to Henry Delacroix. “Crowe thinks someone turned Michael’s magic around, made him attack himself.”

Boone nodded. “But the only one who could have done that was Henry Delacroix, and he’s resting in pieces, if you get my meaning.”

I did. “So Michael went to ‘check something out,’ and he never came back. He was on Deathstalker turf.” He’d written in his journal that he’d discovered something about Henry, about his secrets. My thoughts turned like slippery gears, unable to catch.

“Oh, thank God,” said a gruff voice.

Boone and I turned toward the sound of thumping footsteps to see Flynn jogging through the woods, his face pale, his body emanating wisps of his inlusio magic. It was all around him, like he couldn’t contain it.

“Hey, you jackass!” Boone pulled a flashlight from his pocket and ran the beam over Flynn’s sweaty face. “Crowe’s been looking for you. Where’d you get off to?”

“I found them,” Flynn said, breathing hard. “Come on!” His eyes were wide as he beckoned for us to follow him. He snatched the flashlight from Boone’s hand and ran back into the woods.

“You found Alex?” I asked, my voice shrill as I followed him. “Is she okay?”

“You have to see,” said Flynn as Boone and I trailed close behind him, trying to keep up as we zigged and zagged through the trees, heading deeper into the woods. “You just have to—”

Flynn pivoted on his heel and slammed the flashlight into the side of Boone’s head. The older man went down like a bag of cement, groaning. Still radiating skeins of inlusio, Flynn brought the flashlight down on Boone’s head again as I screamed, but before I could run he lunged for me. I landed on my back with him on top of me, crushing the air from my lungs with the impact. His hand clamped over my mouth.

“Quiet,” he said, his voice unsteady and strange. “I’m trying to save your life. I’ll explain everything, I promise. Will you give me a chance to do that?”

I nodded, if only so he would give me a chance to breathe and think. Boone lay bleeding in the dark just feet away from where Flynn was rising to his feet and helping me to mine. “Why?” I asked, my voice breaking.

“Come on,” Flynn said. His voice wasn’t even his own now—it was echoing and cracking like a bad radio. The scent of inlusio magic—cigar smoke and autumn leaves—was so dense that it was all I could do not to cough, but it was mixed with something else… a faint whiff of copper, and of bitter ash. Before I had a chance to think about it, he grabbed my hand and dragged me farther into the woods. I stared around me at the darkness, trying desperately to identify distinctive trees or hollows that would allow me to find my way back to Boone, who was breathing loudly and wetly as he lay unconscious on the forest floor. But it was hard to see anything past the tiny circle of light provided by the flashlight, especially with the thick funk of Flynn’s magic swirling in the air around us—mixed with threads of red and black.

“Um… I think I should go back,” I said, panting, my heart punching hard against my ribs.

His footsteps stuttered as he ground to a halt and slowly turned, shining the flashlight upward so I could see his face.

Except it wasn’t his face. Killian stared down at me, sweaty and wild-eyed like Flynn had been, inlusio magic dissipating like a cloud under the heat of the sun. “Don’t scream,” he said quietly as those threads of crimson became thick ribbons emanating from his body, still shot through with darkness.

I pulled against his hand, trying to put space between us as the scent of copper and ash rolled over me, overwhelming everything else. “Please let me go.”

His right eye twitched. “I will.” Then his mouth pulled into a half snarl. “I won’t.”

“Did you do something to Flynn?” I asked in a strained voice as ribbons of his magic coiled around me, licking at my skin. As they did, a sense of peace came over me. He didn’t want to hurt me. He wasn’t going to hurt me.

“I had to warn you. You’re important and you have to be safe. He’s not safe, and you have to stay away—” He grimaced and bowed his head.

“Where have you been?” I asked.

He let out a low, broken chuckle. “I never expected he would do anything like this.”

“Did you take Alex?” I whispered. “Do you have Flynn and Gunnar, too?” Somehow, he’d had Flynn’s magic all around him just now. A complete illusion. My throat constricted. “Can you steal other people’s magic?”

Just like his brother had.

“You have to be careful. You can’t trust him.”

“Crowe?”

Killian raised his head, and his face was pulled into a terrible grimace. “He has to be stopped!” His animus magic wound more tightly around me, and the blood-and-ash scent of it made me feel like I was drowning. I leaned against him as it sapped every thought from my mind, and watched helplessly as it slid around him as well, across his sharp cheekbones and into his ears, his nostrils. As it did, the pungent ashy scent grew stronger, like the smell of a hundred stale cigarettes, and the light of the flashlight dimmed as magic as dark as the night wafted between us.

“Crowe has to be stopped,” Killian said firmly. “He’ll destroy everything.” He clamped his eyes shut and shook his head, then groaned.

Images of Crowe, venemon snaking from his fingertips, his eyes dark and forbidding, filled my head. He could rain destruction on the people in this festival if he wanted. He could curse us with plague. He could boil our blood in our veins. He could carve his initials on our hearts with the brush of his thoughts. Somewhere in a dark corner of my mind, a rebellious thought held its own, though. No.

“N-no,” I mumbled.

Killian’s grip on my hand tightened. “Stop him,” he begged. “You’re the only one who can.”

I tore my hand from his, feeling like I was swimming through rapidly hardening cement. Every step was a chore. The crimson threads of Killian’s magic were wrapped around my throat, my face, but now all I could smell was cinders and ash, not copper and salt. Killian made a desperate sound and bashed himself in the face with the flashlight. “Don’t listen to me!” he shouted. As he staggered backward and dropped the light, the threads of animus fell away like he’d taken a pair of scissors to them.

I sucked in a breath—and I ran.