Hope squirmed as Gaze’s thug slung her over his shoulder. Her legs were paralyzed, but her upper body and core muscles were strong thanks to years of hauling herself around. She managed to get in a solid head-butt, although it left her own ears ringing.

The thug grunted in pain and annoyance, but didn’t pause. “Stop thrashing, kid. You’ll only make things harder on yourself.”

Naturally, this only made Hope redouble her efforts. But with her arms handcuffed behind her back and her mouth gagged, it was difficult to do anything to resist as the Gaze’s henchman carried her after his boss.

“Here we are,” Gaze said, as warmly as if welcoming them to another Christmas party. “Please don’t consider trying anything foolish, Hugh, or our young friend here will regret it.”

The world spun about her head as the thug dumped her onto the cold ground. He snapped a chain onto her handcuffs with a quick, practiced motion. The other end was secured to an iron ring set into the concrete floor.

Rolling onto her side, Hope managed to prop herself up enough to look around. A chill ran down her spine.

Large steel hooks hung from thick chains above their heads, half-visible in the gloom. The concrete underneath them was marked by old, rusty splotches. A gutter ran down the middle of the long room. It must have once been some sort of abattoir or meat-processing plant, but now the air smelled of mold and dust.

There was new thing that was clean and new, though. It gleamed in the middle of the dimly lit space, stark and ominous.

A cage.

“In you go.” Gaze shoved Hugh into the cage, still smiling brightly. “I apologize if it’s a little small. I had to guess at the dimensions.”

Hugh straightened. Despite Gaze’s words, there was plenty of room in the cage even for his tall, broad-shouldered form. It could have held a large animal like a horse or a bull.

Hugh looked around at the bars with the jaded air of a business traveler confronted with yet another bland hotel suite. “Charming. I’m sure I’ll be very comfortable.”

“I’m afraid not.” Gaze glanced at the henchman still standing guard over Hope. “Wait outside. Don’t let anyone in. And don’t come in again yourself. No matter what you hear.”

The goon nodded, his craggy face not betraying a hint of curiosity. “Yes boss.”

“You shouldn’t listen to him,” Hugh called as the man headed for the door. “He’s cheating you out of a fortune. I can pay you far more than he is.”

“Yeah.” The henchman didn’t even pause. “They all say that.”

The thick steel door slammed shut, leaving the two of them alone with Gaze in the gloom. It was the best chance they were ever likely to have. Hope wracked her brain, staring frantically around at the rusted equipment in search of inspiration.

There has to be some way I can hurt him. Or at least delay him. Ivy’s on her way, I know she is, she has to be…

“Well now.” Gaze strolled over to a wheeled metal table placed next to the cage. Hope was too low down to see what was on top of it, but given that it bore a suspicious resemblance to a surgical trolley, she was betting it wasn’t anything good. “Shall we begin?”

Hugh folded his arms, looking bored. “You still can’t force me to shift. You don’t have any leverage.”

That’s right, Hugh, Hope silently urged him. She didn’t know if he could use his mythic shifter telepathy to pick her thoughts out of her mind, but it was worth a try. Keep stalling him. Don’t worry about me.

She still couldn’t help flinching as Gaze gestured in her direction. He had some kind of surgical tool in his hand. It looked something like a power drill, except that it had a serrated saw blade sticking out the front.

“Oh, I think I have all the leverage I need.” The saw blade whined into a lethal blur for a second as Gaze idly pressed a button. “You know, I’ve often wondered how the torment of being trapped in my stare compares to more traditional forms of persuasion. Shall we find out?”

Hugh’s fingers dug into his biceps, but his haughty expression didn’t waver. “Seems to me that there’s nothing stopping you from hurting Hope anyway, once I’m out of the way. So I might as well make sure you don’t get what you want.”

“Now you’re the one who isn’t thinking things through.” Gaze’s tone was light and pleasant, as if this was a perfectly civil conversation. “I do want to live to enjoy my new treasure, after all. That means I need insurance against a certain vengeful little wyvern. Even after I’ve killed you, Ivy won’t dare to come after me as long as I’m holding her sister. I’ll keep Hope safe and secret, never fear.”

Hugh’s eyes flicked from Gaze to Hope. She shook her head frantically at him, willing him not to listen to the basilisk shifter.

“You’re insane if you think you can get away with this,” Hugh said to Gaze. “Ivy isn’t the only one you need to worry about.”

“You mean the Phoenix? Your erstwhile friends on Alpha Team?” Gaze’s smile stretched wider. “Seems they can’t be such good friends after all, given how fast you were to abandon them. I’ll take my chances. Now, are you really going to put your young friend here through some very unpleasant experiences, just to spite me?”

Hugh gripped the bars of the cage, all ironic detachment abandoned. “Don’t you dare touch her.”

“Then do what I want.” The basilisk too had lost all fake civility, his tone hard as steel. “Last chance, Hugh Argent. Shift.”

Hugh’s knuckles whitened. For a moment, he matched stares with the basilisk shifter, cold blue eyes locked with hidden crimson ones.

Hugh looked away first. Bowing his head, he leaned on the bars, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath.

“Hope,” he said, very softly. “I’m sorry.”

She thought for a moment that he was refusing, and her heart gave a weird lurch of combined terror and triumph—yes, hold out, I can take it, oh God this can’t be happening—but then he stepped back into the center of the cage. His form shimmered.

No! she wanted to shout, as he shifted. And then, when she saw what he was: Oh, no.

The unicorn’s silver light shone through the cage, striping the concrete floor with stark black shadows. The enclosure had been plenty big enough for a man, but the steel bars pressed cruelly into that gleaming white hide.

The great muscles bunched. Sparks flew as silver hooves struck steel, and Hope caught her breath. Surely no mere cage could contain all that shining power, surely the walls would buckle and fall away under the force of his kicks…

But there just wasn’t any room. No matter how the unicorn twisted, he didn’t have space to lash out with his full strength. He couldn’t even turn his head. The long silver horn stuck out the front of the cage, trapped between the bars.

“Oh, you beauty,” Gaze breathed.

The unicorn bared his teeth, ears flattening as Gaze reached for him. One of the huge hooves stamped, shaking the floor. His horn rattled against the bars of the cage…but the unicorn couldn’t pull back as the basilisk shifter ran a possessive hand down the spiraling, gleaming length.

“Eternal life,” Gaze whispered. “Or as good as eternal. I shall restore myself to youth and health again and again. Everything I’ve built so far will be insignificant compared to the power I will hold.”

Forgotten, Hope flopped to her side. She writhed her upper body, dragging her limp legs over the concrete regardless of how the rough surface abraded her skin. If she could get close enough, she could bite Gaze in the ankle, or drag him down, or, or something. Anything.

Anything to stop what she was certain was going to happen next.

“Close your eyes if you want,” Gaze said, taking off his glasses. He tucked them into his jacket pocket. “Though I suggest you let me hold you still for this part. It’ll only be worse for you if I don’t.”

Hope squeezed her own eyes shut. Partly out of fear of catching the edge of the basilisk shifter’s stare. Partly because she couldn’t bear to watch.

Ivy, Ivy, Ivy! she shrieked helplessly in her mind, over and over. Her sister had to be coming, she had to be almost here, she couldn’t let this happen…IVY!

She heard the saw blade whine. She heard the desperate clatter of hooves.

She heard a terrible, inhuman scream.

Hope’s eyes jerked open again at the stench of acid-burned metal—just in time to see Ivy explode through the front wall in a storm of teeth and fury. Gaze flung himself to the side, taking cover from the wyvern’s deadly breath behind the cage. An instant later, Ivy’s scorpion-barbed tail smashed into the concrete where he’d been standing.

Hope was distracted from the battle by something hot and wet slurping against her ear. She shrieked through her gag as a huge black dog appeared out of nowhere, straddling her prone form. She beat at its gaping maw with her bound hands, futilely trying to push the animal away from her face.

“No, it’s me, it’s me!” Suddenly it was human hands pulling away the soggy remnants of the gag rather than a dog’s slobbering jaws.

“Betty?” Hope gasped in shock.

Betty jerked at the chain binding Hope’s wrists, trying futilely to break it. “Hold still. I can bite through this, but I have to—”

She broke off abruptly, pushing Hope down to the ground and covering her with her own leather-clad body. Hope hid her face in Betty’s shoulder as a shower of steel fragments blasted over them.

“NO!” Gaze howled.

Peeking out from under Betty, Hope saw Ivy lunge for Gaze again. The basilisk shifter dodged, his form shifting and elongating.

The world went dark as Betty’s hands clamped over Hope’s eyes. “Hey!” she protested.

“Don’t look!” Betty raised her voice, yelling across the room. “Ivy, Hugh, shut your eyes! He can kill instantly when he’s shifted!”

Heart hammering, Hope could only huddle against Betty, trying to interpret the sounds coming from the battle. Snarls of anger, the crash of teeth against scales, a chilling hiss of triumph—

Light blazed through her closed eyelids. Not the pure white light of the unicorn, but a wilder, red-orange blaze.

“Close your eyes, basilisk,” said a voice as cold as death. “Or I will burn them from your head.”

Instinctive panic filled Hope as heat licked at her bare shoulders. Betty tightened her grip, holding her still despite the firestorm raging all around.

“It’s all right,” Betty whispered in her ear. “It’s the Phoenix.”

“Aye, he has it under control,” said a different voice, in a familiar, reassuring Scottish burr. “It’s safe now, lassies. You can look.”

“Griff?” Opening her eyes, Hope saw the griffin shifter smiling down at them both. “It is you! What are you doing here?”

“Thank your sister and this brave lass here.” Griff nodded at Betty, who’d shifted back into hellhound form in order to bite through the handcuffs. “They told us where to come. Afraid there wasn’t time to collect a wheelchair. I’ll have to carry you for a wee bit, if you don’t mind.”

Hope leaned on his broad shoulder, limp with relief. Behind Griff, the flames were dying down, revealing a struggling Gaze being forced to his knees by John Doe and Chase. The basilisk shifter was back in human form, a black bag over his head hiding his deadly eyes. Dai, in red dragon form, guarded the hole in the wall, growling.

No, Hope realized, the savage snarls filling the air weren’t coming from the red dragon outside. Ivy was still in wyvern form, her green eyes savage and empty of any human thought. Her snakelike body curled possessively around the wreckage of the steel cage, half-spread wings hiding the contents from view.

“Ivy.” Fire Commander Ash stood in front of the snarling wyvern, face calm despite the acid dripping from her jaws. The concrete floor behind him was scorched black in the shape of wide, feathered wings. “Ivy, you have to shift back. You have to let us see him.”

The Phoenix took a step toward the wyvern. Ivy’s growl increased, like a chainsaw revving up. She drew her wings closer around the cage.

“Griff,” Hope said, tugging at his shirt. “Take me over there. I can talk to her.”

A little half-whine, half-yelp of protest burst from Betty’s fiery throat. The animal sound turned into words as the hellhound shimmered back into human form. “Hope, no! She’s lost to her animal at the moment, it’s too dangerous!“

“Ivy won’t ever hurt me. I’m her sister. Please, Griff. I’m the only one who can get through to her.”

The griffin shifter blew out his breath, but carried her over. Betty dogged his heels. When he stopped, the hellhound planted herself in between Hope and Ivy like a bodyguard. Despite everything, Hope couldn’t help feeling a warm glow in her chest as Betty squared off against the furious wyvern.

She came to save me. She’s worried about me. Maybe she really does like me…

But this was hardly the moment to think about such things. Hope looked past Betty to Ivy, focusing on her sister.

“Ivy,” she said. “Ivy, it’s okay. These are friends. They’re here to help.”

The wyvern’s snarls ground down into a low, uneasy whine. Her head still wove from side to side like a snake about to strike, but the bristling spines down her back flattened. Her spread wings quivered uncertainly.

“You have to let them help, Ivy,” Hope said, keeping her voice as low and calm as if she was trying to soothe a distressed dog. “I know you’re just trying to protect Hugh’s secret, but he needs their help now. You have to let them see.”

With a final agonized whimper, Ivy folded her wings at last.

Hope’s heart gave a great bound of relief. Hugh was still in unicorn form. He stood splay-legged, sides heaving, but at least he was alive. Livid marks striped his white coat where he’d flung himself against the bars.

Painfully, slowly, he raised his head.

Griff swore under his breath. The shocked exclamation was echoed by Chase and John, still restraining Gaze behind them. Outside, the red dragon hissed. Ash said nothing, but his fist clenched.

“Oh no,” Hope whispered.

Thick white light oozed like blood from a deep cut at the base of the unicorn’s darkened horn.