During the entire conversation over breakfast and the invitation to get in the car, Elspeth knew Alfred was the bad guy. She didn’t know why, or how, but the moment she’d noticed him in the kitchen it hit her.

He’s the tool of my death.

The perennial double agent. He’d fooled her good. Bamboozled the girl who could see the future. But the good news was, she was finally on to his game. The bad news was, according to her vision, this was where it possibly ended.

At least she’d gotten to enjoy one stupendous day with Luc. It was more wonderful than she could have imagined. She wouldn’t be greedy and hope that fate would propel her past this moment.

Why can’t I be greedy? She’d waited most of her life to finally meet her mate. Had spent one glorious night in his arms. It wasn’t enough.

I want more.

She only had herself to blame. How did she not see Alfred’s perfidy?

Because I look for the good, not the bad.

No wonder Mother insisted she needed a keeper. A keeper might have thought to bring an umbrella.

Plop.

A raindrop struck her nose. She blinked open her eyes and discovered herself tied to a stake outdoors.

Not too bad on its own. She’d been tied more than once in her life. At least this time, she wasn’t gagged, tied to a cinder block, and dropped in a lake. Good thing she could hold her breath.

More worrisome was the pile of sticks at her feet that appeared to extend around the stake and a few feet from it. A touch disturbing.

Alfred stood in front of her, alongside Maedoc, who rubbed his chin. “Awake already. Stronger than you look. I do so love healthy dragon stock. Hopefully, there’s some of that spirit left when we’re done with you.”

It just lacked ominous music to make his words worse. As it was, Elspeth didn’t like the sound of them. Her vision had never revealed if her demise would hurt or not. She just knew death hovered nearby.

“You do realize, once my dragon brethren realize what you’re doing, they’ll be quite upset. With good reason.” Elspeth was a ray of sunshine in their lives. She forced a smile to her lips.

Maedoc smirked. “We already have allies from within the dragon Septs who are fully on board. It would seem their new Golden king has left them unimpressed. He moves too slowly, and he lacks higher aspirations.”

“We have the numbers to rule the Septs then the world!” Alfred declared.

“Do you know how villainous it sounds to say you want to rule the world?” Elspeth exercised her eye rolls.

“It’s the natural order. We used to be the rulers of this land,” Maedoc declared.

“Not in recent times,” she argued. No pills made for a grumpy Elspeth.

“Dragonkind hasn’t ruled the world since they banished their strongest members.”

“You mean the dragon mages?” Elspeth didn’t need a vision of the future to see how this was going. “I won’t deny the mages got a raw deal. The guilty ones should have been killed.” Mercy only went so far. The lives that could have been saved had their ancestors shown a little more balls would have seen Voadicia and the others dead before they’d had a chance to perpetrate their evil.

“But they didn’t kill the guilty. They decided to lay the blame on all magic users. Those Goldens and their superiority complex. This was their plan. To send us away so they could rule unfettered. Instead, the humans almost decimated them. They should have kept us around. Now, they’ll all pay.”

“But we had nothing to do with your sentence. You’re killing innocents.”

“We were innocent before being imprisoned,” Maedoc snapped. “Some of us mere children when we entered the Hell dimension. Punished for something we were never aware of.”

“You could have lived in that world peacefully.”

“We did that for a while. It got boring, and then we found some books. Magic books.” His irises flared red. “And the rest, as they say, is history.” Maedoc spread his hands, a beatific smile on his lips.

“The humans will kill you.”

“Have you seen it in a vision?” Alfred fixed her with a stare.

Uh-oh, did they know about her power? “I used logic. The humans outnumber us and aren’t about to allow anyone to rule them.” Especially not criminals from another dimension.

“All we need are the right steps. The perfect acts to make a play for domination.” Alfred gestured to his brother. “Maedoc has a plan to achieve that.”

“In order to guide our future, we need to see our future,” Maedoc elaborated.

The idea that they might take her power brought a smile. “You want my visions, go ahead and take them. Tell me what to do. They’ve been nothing but trouble.”

Eogan, who looked less and less like Alfred the more he rubbed some lotion into his skin, frowned. “You’re lying. No one wants to give power willingly.”

“It’s been a nightmare. Literally. Do you know how many futures there are? It’s exhausting.” Elspeth would welcome a quiet mind where she could only guess at the future like everyone else.

“To know is to be all-powerful.”

“Except I don’t know everything. For example, why pretend to be Luc’s butler?”

“Because it amused. We never expected the demon to follow us through the portal, but when we realized he had, we saw an opportunity.”

“For what?”

“To lay the blame at his feet. To use him again as our servant.” Eogan shrugged. “He is alone. We planned to make him into the perfect scapegoat.”

She frowned. “You were using him.”

“We use everything we come in contact with. It’s a specialty of ours.” With his youth returned, Eogan’s smile only enhanced his handsome appearance.

“If you’re done bragging about our greatness, let’s get started,” Maedoc announced. He pulled a pinch of powder from a pouch, tossed it into the air, and blew, chanting a weird string of syllables.

The motes were pulled toward Elspeth and began churning around her. It caused a small breeze to appear, tugging at the loose curls of her hair.

She blew at them to keep them from her face, a little more worried than she wanted to admit by the weird tornado forming with her at its core.

The wind, whistling around, muffled the chanting. The twining speed of it blurred her vision of Maedoc and Eogan, the latter now a young man in his prime.

What her cousins and aunts wouldn’t give to get their hands on that cream he used. Pity things appeared dire, and she couldn’t see one spit of the future past this moment.

That didn’t mean she was giving up.

The spinning winds stole her breath. She clamped her lips and peered around as she wiggled her hands, looking for any slack. Fear didn’t quite have her in its grip yet. Because this isn’t how I die.

The spinning vortex began to pull at her, not just physically but also at a cognitive level. Much like someone yanking taffy, her memories stretched out of her—a long, thick chunk of visions. Dozens of timelines tugged away.

She didn’t fight it. She let them go.

Those were the visions that had never come to pass. They took up valuable headspace.

She let the pair grab those memories and more. Let them siphon the millions of things she held inside. With each yank, she felt herself growing lighter.

Faint. She closed her eyes, and her head lolled.

She dropped into a vision.

Luc, looking fierce and lovely. “Elspeth, where are you?”

“Right here, silly,” she giggled.

“Are you hurt?”

“Not yet. But I imagine it will hurt when they light the fire.”

Grawwrrr. He roared in her vision. She snapped open her eyes and realized she still heard a roar.

In real life.

The taffied memories continued to spool from her, freeing up corners of her mind that she’d lost long ago. The cobwebs were swept. The attic cleaned. She felt great. At peace. Empty. Only her personal life memories were left. As it should be.

But the taffy puller wanted more. The vortex tugged at the core of her, yanked at her true memories kept hidden in a vault.

Um, no thank you. She shoved back at the wind.

It insisted. Hand over those memories. Memories that would give them secrets they shouldn’t have.

She thickened the shield. They’re mine. Don’t touch them.

He tried, though. Just had to poke. The nerve. And from a banished dragon mage no less.

She dropped the dreamy face. Slammed the door of her mind shut.

Then knew what she had to do.

Get rid of Maedoc and his brother.

They shouldn’t be here, feeding on the innocent.

Both should have died a long time ago.

Don’t think like that. Happy thoughts.

Happy thoughts were to combat the bad visions.

She had none right now.

Just me, myself, and an ancestry that says you don’t fuck with a Yellow dragon.

Bring on the arrogance. As her hands wiggled in the rope, her body swayed slightly side to side, testing the pole. She needed more time. “You are breaking the terms of your banishment.”

The whirling wind dropped in time for her to see Eogan sneer. “I’m pretty sure I could argue in a court that we’ve more than served our sentence.”

“How do you figure, given you’ve committed even more atrocious acts?”

“Says you. There’s no one alive to say otherwise.” Eogan smirked.

As for Maedoc, he was bent over at the waist, holding his head.

“He doesn’t look so good.”

“He’ll get over it. It will take him time to process the influx of information from your head.”

“It might also drive him insane.”

“Possibly. I guess we’ll see.” Eogan smiled, made all the more evil because of his beauty. As Alfred, he was an elderly, distinguished gentleman, propriety personified. Having reverted to a young man, he was now virility on steroids. Handsome, fit, and projecting some hardcore boy-dragon hormones.

If it weren’t for her day with Luc, she might have felt a quiver. Now, she just felt anger. Rage that this man who should have died centuries ago was standing between her and her happily ever after.

“Why couldn’t you have just lived quietly?” she asked.

“We were quiet. Subtly building power and staying alive for the day we’d return. Now, we want to make some noise.”

“You won’t get away with this.”

“I don’t expect to. And might I say how nice it is that you’re still coherent and feisty. I really thought that you might be a babbling mess after that spell. It’s why I had you put on the pole. But now, I’m thinking maybe we should reconvene elsewhere. With fewer clothes and some chains.”

Elspeth fluttered her lashes. “I’d rather die,” she said sweetly.

He laughed. “You say that now, but I promise you will beg me for it. Harder. Faster. You’ll totally ask for—”

“Death.” The word emerged almost like a sibilant hiss despite the lack of an S in it. On its heels, a shadow descended from the sky. Massive, winged, the body thick and muscled, his tattoos darker than before. A bigger version of Luc with horns and cloven hooves, his skin a charcoal gray and leathery.

Her demon.

He came.

She’d not been sure he would, but knew any kind of possible future relied on it.

With his appearance, her magic stirred. Possibilities brewed, but she didn’t have time to sift through any visions.

She needed to get off this pole, especially once she saw Maedoc lift his head, eyes gleaming a pure red, no whites left. His voice, deep and ragged, commanded, “Light the pyre. It will destroy the demon.”

Luc roared and dove at the brothers, who split. From overhead, she heard a trill, and she craned to see a silver streak.

“Babsy!” she yelled. “Knock me over, would you?”

The silver body immediately banked and dove for the pole but didn’t reach it before the fireball that hit the dry kindling.

Whoosh.

The heat of it singed the air, and Elspeth knew her time was limited. She’d have to move fast.

Babette came in and alit behind her, giving the pole a shove hard enough to make it groan as it cracked.

However, a dagger tossed by Eogan drew a sharp cry before Babette could completely free Elspeth.

He hurt my bestie! The smell of dragon blood was distinct.

The other brother sauntered closer. “If it isn’t the Silver Voadicia was fucking.” Maedoc smirked. “How’s it feel knowing you betrayed your people?”

Babette blarted something rude.

“Go get him, Babsy. I got this.”

With a trumpet, Babette flung herself off the pyre, one of her wings sporting streaks of blood and a small tear. But that scratch wasn’t the biggest concern of the moment.

The flames licked, and the smoke thickened. Elspeth couldn’t waste time. She flung herself left and right. The weakened post snapped and fell over.

It didn’t quite free her. She tumbled down the pyre, singing her clothes, ignoring the burns as she rolled clear of the burning pile. She inched up the pole until her arms were freed. It took a bit more wiggling to slide her arms to the front.

Then the gnawing she’d practiced came into play, freeing her wrists. Under a minute. Must have been cheap rope.

She sprang to her feet and ran just as a fireball hit the spot with the remnants of her pole.

“Missed me! Missed me! Now you get to deal with me,” she sang, sprinting toward Maedoc, who was probably the more dangerous of the two.

Some might think, so what if he hummed off-key? Except she knew he wasn’t making music. He was preparing to cast a spell. A big one. Which is why, when she ran past Babette, she grabbed the dracinore dagger protruding from Babsy’s wing.

The humming turned into an open-mouthed chant, and she knew she had very little time to stop him. To save Babette.

But her legs just weren’t long enough, her pace not fast enough. Good thing she’d practiced knife throwing.

The blade left her palm hilt over tip, spinning in the air, catching fiery glints. She was feeling pretty good about her toss. About to cheer.

Thunk.

The pommel hit Maedoc in the chest, and the knife fell to the ground.

He looked up and smiled. “My turn.”

Uh-oh.