One shared glance with Reina was all I needed to see she had as much of a clue as I did about what we were heading downstairs for.

Worry wracked my nerves as we hurried down at Row’s behest. The moment we reached the living room, she hurriedly took her leave, and instantly, I could see why. Sitting across the way sat a woman I hadn’t seen in some time, and hadn’t expected to see, either.

“Mama Lissette?” I gawked, “what are you doing here?” The last time I’d seen her she’d told me she couldn’t help me, and had filled me with immense fear in telling me I could never outrun the darkness, that I’d been marked for death. I wanted to believe her presence now meant there was some kind of hope, but I knew better than that.

“Come in, sit,” she told us with a swing of her hand, motioning to the couch across from her. Obediently, Reina and I went and sat so close to one another, our thighs touched. Her presence was calming, and I welcomed it.

“Please tell me you’ve got good news,” Reina murmured quietly. We all needed some.

“I’m afraid I’ve come to tell you both things are far more complicated than they had ever seemed,” the voodoo queen told us, leaving my stomach to sink.

“Great,” I grumbled, before realizing I’d said it aloud at all. “In what way?”

“In regards to Morana.”

“Oh, even better,” I groaned.

“Discovering her weakness alone won’t be enough. She holds an object of great power, and it must be destroyed before thoughts of killing her can ever be entertained.”

“Which is… what?” Reina asked.

“A ring. The destruction of which may, in the end, be just as complicated as killing her. However, it must be done, or you’ll never succeed.”

Just great. All we needed were more complications to add to the heaps we already had. “Okay,” I drawled in a slow crawl of concern, “and I take it you don’t know how we’re supposed to do that?”

“No. Not as of yet, but I knew you needed to know.”

I heaved out a sigh, and noticed the tense muscles along Reina’s leg at my side. I wondered if my own felt quite so nervous as hers. “Well, thanks,” I guess.

The woman stood, and started in her exit when I jumped hurriedly to my feet. “What about Carver?”

Back toward me she spun. “What about him?”

“I need to know where he is. I need to find him.”

For a moment she remained rigid and tall, uncertain in the twitch of her jaw. “You’ve fed from him, and him from you, correct?”

Slowly, I nodded. “Yes.”

Toward me she stepped, and gathered up my hands in a tight hold. It was too reminiscent of the first time we’d met, of the vision I’d slipped into that had knocked me out cold. Yet, this time I was standing, and could only hope I wouldn’t fall and hit my head. The last thing I was going to do though was interrupt her as her eyes slid closed in what looked to be a moment of intense concentration.

It was all for Carver. I’d do whatever I had to to find him. It didn’t mean I’d need to give up on all else.

Around silent words Mama Lissette’s lips curled, chanting a song I couldn’t hear. The only difference this time was I knew her actions weren’t bullshit. In an instant, I was swept away, caught in a storm just as violent as the last.

Forward and back I plunge, cast into snippets of the recent past that leave my head reeling in utter confusion. Nausea weighs me down, but I can’t move, I can’t counteract it with anything at all. All I can do is wait to ride out the tumultuous pull that leaves me scattered beyond belief.

Suddenly the world comes into focus, and though I can see all, I’m not there. I’ve never been there, and as much as I want to reach out, I can’t. I’ve no more power than a mere apparition.

Carver. I can see Carver, but I can’t reach him. I can do nothing at all to help him as I watch his face contort in agony. It takes a moment for my senses to focus, to really drink in the sight of all around him.

He’s captured, a prisoner in a dark and dingy room. Behind him his arms are bound, and at the base of the chair he’s slumped in his ankles are lashed up tight.

His lips move in what looks like an agonizing scream, but I can hear nothing at all. The silence is all engulfing, like standing in the whipping wind of a storm. My heart aches and cries out for him, until finally I see the object causing him his pain.

Morana. The bitch Morana has Carver and she’s torturing him, driving the tip of a blade into his flesh. Part of me wants to look away, but I can’t. I stare and part my own lips but there’s no sound from me, either. I’m not really here, and I can’t save him.

I’m useless to him.

“Aura,” Reina’s voice cracked through the fog, dragging my lashes upward in a slow crawl.

Confusion still weighed upon me like a thick fog as I glanced confusedly around the room. Right at my front Mama Lissette still stood, our hands folded together in a mesh of heated, slick skin. Sweat poured from both of our foreheads, and with a loose of my hand, I found in a sweep of my hair the sweat hadn’t relegated itself just to my forehead.

Both women stared at me, waiting for me to tell them what I’d seen.

“She has Carver,” I spat with a slow glance from my best friend to the woman who seemed to hold so many truths but never enough answers. “Look, I don’t care what it’s going to cost. I don’t care what it’s going to take. Consorts or not, Drias or not, I am going to end that bitch, and you’re gonna tell me how to do it.”