For a second, she wondered if something had happened, but then she realized it was just his way of getting her to do what he wanted. Like always.

She texted back. What?

Her phone rang. It was him. She answered it as she headed out to the balcony to talk where she wouldn’t be overheard. Once again, without a jacket. But this wouldn’t take long. She’d hang up before she got too cold. “What now?”

“I need Ivan here in five days.”

“Five? Are you insane? That’s this Saturday.”

“I know what day it is. Just do it.”

“That’s ridiculous. The venom won’t be out of his system by then. Not even close.” The heat of her anger made her forget the temperature and the thin blanket of snow already forming. “He needs at least another month.”

“Five days. Make it happen. I have some whales coming in, and if they’re here for the fight, they’ll drop big money.”

She didn’t care what her father or his wealthy, gambling customers wanted. “It’s not that easy.”

“It is if you use your gifts. Which you should already be doing.”

“I hate you.”

“Five days.”

She hung up. She wanted to pitch her phone into the woods, but if her father couldn’t reach her, he’d send Sean out here, and that would just make things worse. She leaned on the railing. Five days was impossible. Van would never be ready to fight by then.

The tears she’d been fighting for so long finally came, streaming hot down her face. She wanted to scream and break things. But that wasn’t her way. Her way was just to suck it up and deal with the wretched hand she’d been dealt.

Because there was no alternative. No escape.

She picked up her head and wiped her face with her hands. There was one escape, however temporary. She could shift and take a few moments to drift through the forest. It would be so peaceful with the snow coming down. Quiet and serene and just what she needed right now. She’d done it once before without any issue.

And she already knew Van was off to bed.

She closed her eyes and called up her magic.

The voice Van had heard turned out to be Lisa on the phone. He watched her from inside the house, the triple-paned windows making it hard to determine exactly what she was saying, even with his keen hearing.

Whoever she was talking to, they were making her angry. That made him angry. But he shouldn’t be eavesdropping. It wasn’t right. If she wanted to share her troubles with him, she would. Someday, he hoped she’d be that comfortable with him.

She hung up and started to cry.

The sight of her tears made him want to hurt whoever she’d been talking to. He put his hand to the glass. He should go upstairs and comfort her. That would be okay, wouldn’t it? He could say he’d heard her crying and—

A piercing flash of light blinded him. Grom growled. Van blinked, unable to see beyond a bright glaring spot left in his vision. He staggered back, gripping his crutch until the metal bent in his hand. That light. He knew that light.

That was the light that had cost him everything.

“Grom, tiho.”

Grom quieted, and as the glaring spot faded, Van stared up at the balcony to see if Lisa was all right.

Snow drifted down in big flakes.

Lisa was gone.

His heart pounded in his chest, and a thousand thoughts flooded his brain. Was she hurt? Why had the person responsible for that light followed him to Nocturne Falls? Who were they? What did they want? His hoard? That was the only reasonable explanation he could come up with.

“Lisa!” He called out her name as he walked toward the stairs. No answer. He made his way up to the bedroom as quickly as he could. The pain was easier to ignore with adrenaline in his system. “Lisa, where are you? Say something.”

But there was no response. Whoever had flashed that light had taken her. Anger burned white-hot in him, and his instincts to protect her married with his drive to hurt whoever had done this. Had he been well, he would have shifted immediately and taken to the skies to hunt them down.

And when he found them, he would have covered them in flames and turned them to ash. He turned back to the stairs. He could call Nick Hardwin. The man was a gargoyle, one of the class that could fly. He’d help Van search.

He put his hand on the railing to steady himself when the balcony door opened behind him.

“Van? What are you doing up here?”

He pivoted. There was snow in her hair. “What happened? I thought someone took you. Or hurt you. Or worse. There was a flash of light and—”

She sucked in a ragged breath. It sounded very much like a sob.

The sound caused another possibility to click into his brain. One he didn’t want to give room to. One that meant things he didn’t want to be true. One that sent a chill through him so harsh, he felt cold for the first time in his life. He cursed in his native tongue before reverting to English again. “You are not a dryad, are you?”

She swallowed and shook her head. It was a small, timid movement.

His next words came out in a dark snarl. “What are you?”

She wiped a hand over her mouth, her eyes sad and desperate and tearful. “I can explain.”

“I am listening.”

She swallowed. “Can we go downstairs?”

“Nyet. Explain. Now.”

She finished closing the balcony door, then she moved closer to the bed. Farther from him. “I don’t know where to begin.”