The horse had been trained for police work, and knew how to get through crowds. It bore Jamie in and out of traffic, barely slowing until they reached Caballus.

The bond burning in his chest told him Nick had moved in the direction of Central Park. Although the Wraith had never struck in daylight before, Jamie couldn’t chance that this one time would prove the exception. Even though he wanted nothing more than to gallop straight to Nick’s side, if the Wraith was somehow involved, he needed help.

The MWP was too far away, and in the wrong direction. Which left only one option.

To his surprise, a group of ferals had gathered and were busy putting the saloon to rights. When Jamie stepped inside Caballus, everyone froze, and he found himself the focus of a lot of very unfriendly gazes.

“You,” said one of the ferals, a handsome dark-haired man with the golden eyes of a cat. “You’re Nick’s witch.”

“Jamie!” Rook appeared from the crowd, clutching a dustpan full of shattered glass. “Where the hell have you been? Where is Nick? Dominic and I got tired of waiting, and Kyle said the Dangerous Familiars Squad raided the place, and—”

“Let him tell us,” Dominic ordered. He held a broom in his hands, which he leaned on now. “Jamie?”

Jamie swallowed. “Nick’s in trouble. The Dangerous Familiars Squad—and my uncle—are involved.” Saint Mary, didn’t it hurt to say that. “The Wraith might be too. Nick tried to call for help, but he was cut off. He’s still alive, but I don’t know how long they mean to keep him that way.”

Kyle’s eyes widened in alarm.. “Nick made sure the coppers focused on him, instead of me. I got away with not so much as a bruise earlier, while they beat him. If there’s any way I can help, tell me and I’ll do it.”

His words opened a floodgate. “Nick doctored my little girl, when I was sure she was going to die from the croup, and didn’t even ask for payment,” said another feral.

“When I broke my arm and couldn’t work for a month, Nick didn’t ask for rent, let me pay it back as I could.”

“I was running from someone who’d used a hex on me, to see if I was unbonded, and Nick punched the bastard in the face and brought me here.”

More and more voices rose up in a clamor. When it didn’t seem as though they’d let up, Rook climbed on top of a chair and waved his arms. “Quiet!” Silence fell, and Rook turned to Jamie expectantly.

“Nick needs us,” Jamie said, feeling a bit awkward. “I know he’d never ask any one of you to put yourselves in danger—”

“The daft tit,” Estelle muttered.

“—and I don’t want anyone who can’t fight to come. I won’t lie—people could get hurt. Killed even. Or sent to jail.” Jamie drew a deep breath. “I ain’t known Nick as long as most of you. But one thing I’ve learned, is that he’s worth fighting for. Who’s with me?”

A cacophony of shouts, hoots, and barks rang out, half the ferals shifting into animal form on the spot. “Avians!” Rook called. “Spread the word!” He pointed to an owl. “You there—go to the MWP and ask for Tom Halloran. Tell him he’s needed in Central Park, as fast as he can get there.”

Which likely wouldn’t be fast enough. As much as Jamie would have preferred to face the Wraith with a hexbreaker, time wasn’t on their side.

Within half a minute, the bird familiars took to the wing. The rest looked expectantly at Jamie.

“Well?” Kyle asked.

“Follow me, then,” Jamie said. He walked outside to his stolen horse. As he mounted, Rook approached.

“Thank you,” Rook said. “I’m glad you didn’t listen to me, that first day.”

Jamie picked up the reins. “You are? Because I doubt Nick feels that way right now.”

Rook snorted. “As much as he’d like to deny it, I know my brother. He’s out of his head in love with you.”

Jamie didn’t think he’d ever experienced such a balance of terror and joy all at the same time. He swallowed, then guided his horse onto the street. “For Nick!” he shouted.

“For Nick!” yelled those ferals still in human form. Then Jamie set his heels to the horse’s flanks and they were off.

Nick regained consciousness only slowly. His mouth tasted like the bottom of an old boot, and a fierce headache pulsed behind his eyes. The sound of rushing water filled his ears, as though a waterfall lay just a little way off. The air smelled of steel and cool, wet stone.

He blinked, then lifted his head. Sunlight streamed through four windows, two to either side of the strange room he was in. The rectangular chamber was made from gray stone, and arched high over his head. In front of him—and behind, most likely—water poured in through high, arched culverts, onto a ledge, then fell smoothly into a pool that filled the lower part of the structure.

He was near the center of the room, suspended above the water on an octagonal metal grate. Someone had tied him to one of four large valves, no doubt meant to control the flow of water either in or out of the building. To either side, a stair ran up to a balcony overlooking the whole operation. Directly across from him, a smaller spiral stair plunged down, vanishing beneath the surface of the water. Large metal doors opened off the balcony to the left, leading to the outside judging by the windows flanking them.

It took his sluggish brain a long moment to realize where he must be. He was in one of the Gate Houses—the north one, judging by the size—of the reservoir in Central Park.

If the Wraith had brought him here, rather than killing him in the church…it meant he was about to become a sacrifice.

Nick jerked wildly on his bonds, but they were too tight. With his arms tied behind him, he couldn’t shift without dislocating his shoulders and possibly worse.

Had Jamie heard his aborted call for help? And if he had, would he even come after the way Nick had lied to him about Wyatt?

Nick sagged against the valve. He should have at least told Jamie he loved him, with every fucking fiber of his being. Jamie might not have forgiven him, but at least he would have known.

He should have trusted Jamie. Should have told him, about Wyatt if nothing else. And maybe they still wouldn’t have found a way forward together, but at least they would have had a chance. Maybe Jamie would still love him.

A shadow detached from the balcony to Nick’s right. Nick started badly—the Wraith had been there all along. Watching him regain consciousness. Hood and face mask now in place, he walked down the stairs toward Nick. An obsidian knife glittered in his hand.

Nick yanked against the bonds again, but they didn’t yield. “Simon, that’s your name, isn’t it?” he asked as the figure walked implacably toward him. “Simon, you don’t have to do this.”

The metal doors swung open, then shut again. “You’re wrong about that,” Ingram said. He clasped his hands behind him, looking smugly down on them from the balcony. “I’ve explained it all to him very carefully. Only by doing this, by making the necessary sacrifices, can he be purified.”

Sacrifice. Oh hell. What had the scribbling in the Blockhouse said? “It is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.”

“Indeed it is,” Ingram agreed. “Once this is ended and you are dead, the blood Simon has spilled will wash the Sin of the Serpent from his soul.”

“What the hell are you ranting about?” Nick asked. “Sin of the Serpent?”

“The animal nature he has been afflicted with.” Ingram smiled. “God will honor his sacrifices and make him entirely human.”

“Liar.” Nick stared at Ingram instead of the approaching Wraith, but projected his words. “I saw you. You’re a witch. You used magic.”

Ingram’s expression twisted. “Another sin Simon must atone for. His magic tempted me off the righteous path.”

Bile rose in Nick’s throat. That was the sort of wretched excuse men like Ingram used to justify whatever abuses they chose to indulge in. “You’re fucking sick.” Nick spat at him, but didn’t come close to his target. “This poor deluded fool might believe all the bullshit about sin and repentance, but you surely don’t, preacher-man. What is all this really for? You’re using the murders to weaken the Great Hex somehow, but I can’t see how that helps your righteous cause.”

Ingram cocked his head and studied Nick thoughtfully. “Since it’s your death that will complete the pattern, perhaps you have the right to know. The sites of the killings, of the blood hexes, have been chosen very carefully. Once your blood finishes the spell, the Great Hex will not be destroyed—it will be inverted. It will sicken the air, blight the plants, and poison the water.”

Ice slicked Nick’s veins. “Poison the water. The reservoir.”

“Indeed.”

“You maniac! Millions will die!” Nick struggled again, but the bonds held firm. “Why would you do something like that?”

“Oh, but it won’t be blamed on me.” Ingram grinned savagely, as if Nick’s distress filled him with delight. “Sufficient evidence will be left behind to pin it on the theriarchists. With so many innocent lives lost, people will finally see familiars and magic for the dangers they are.”

If Ingram succeeded blaming the theriarchists, the crackdown on familiars wouldn’t be confined to New York. The entire nation would panic. Once the likes of Pemberton and his cronies finished, familiars wouldn’t have any rights left.

“It’s all about power,” Nick said. “Just like always. You can’t even come up with anything original, can you? Pick a group, demonize them, and use the resulting fear to pass whatever laws you like. Your pal Pemberton will look like a prophet who tried to keep everyone safe, but was thwarted by those who willfully ignored the signs until it was too late. He’ll be in the governor’s mansion by the next election cycle.”

“We’re thinking the White House.” Ingram gestured to the Wraith. “Now, I believe we’ve talked long enough. End this.”

“You don’t have to do this, Simon,” Nick said as the dark figure crossed the last few feet between them. “He’s lying to you. You don’t have to be ashamed to be a familiar.”

“Don’t waste your breath,” Ingram called. “He began this venture by killing his own brother.”

Fur and feathers, no. “Wyatt?”

“The eagle knew too much about things our allies don’t want made public. And was an excellent test of Simon’s loyalty. Two birds with one stone, as it were.” Ingram chuckled at his own wit. “Though only one bird, in this case.”

Nick swallowed convulsively as the Wraith knelt in front of him. “What about Pia? Why kill her?”

“She’d joined our church recently. Unfortunately, she saw some things she wasn’t meant to, and hoped to blackmail me to solve her money troubles.” Ingram shook his head in mock sorrow. “I blame her death on you, actually. You made her just confident enough that she never totally accepted my authority. You have an unfortunate way of inspiring familiars, of luring them from the righteous path. Once you’re dead, they will see the light and flock to my side, begging for forgiveness.” He paused. “Those who survive, at any rate.”

The Wraith put the edge of the knife to Nick’s throat. Nick stared defiantly at where he imagined Simon’s eyes to be.

God, he hoped Rook and Dominic looked out for Jamie. The people he loved most in the world, and the one’s he’d pushed away hardest, like a fool.

The metal doors burst inward.

Jamie leaned low over the neck of his stolen horse, pounding up the Bridle Path in the direction the bond told him led to Nick. A host of ferals raced around him, or flew in the air. Dominic clung to the mane of a horse feral beside him, his eyes wide as if he expected to fall off at any moment.

As they rounded the curve of the reservoir, Jamie shouted, “The North Gate House! He has to be inside!”

Rook flicked a wing in acknowledgement and increased his pace, leaving the terrestrial ferals behind. The other birds followed him like a small storm. To his shock, Jamie realized they numbered far, far more than there had been when they’d left Caballus. Had the ferals of the park joined them? How far had word spread among the feral community?

He didn’t just have a mob now. He had a small army.

“Rook says there are guards in front of the Gate House,” Dominic called. “Damn it. It’s the Dangerous Familiars Squad.”

Jamie pressed his lips together. No wonder the station had been all but deserted when he’d gone to see Hurley.

He’d thought Hurley had betrayed him as completely as possible, but he hadn’t even known just how deep his uncle’s treachery ran. While arranging to meet Jamie, Hurley had sent his squad here, whether at someone else’s behest or not, to preside over Nick’s murder. He’d known all along that Nick would die, and where, and hadn’t spoken a word of it to Jamie.

A few of the ferals peeled off, not willing to face the Dangerous Familiars Squad. But more poured in, avians carrying the word to colonies, to the streets, to workshops: Nick needs our help.

If they lived through this, Jamie was never going to stop telling Nick how fucking proud he was of him. Everything Nick had done, all the years of hard work and pushing back against anyone who tried to hurt familiars, and here was the result. All these ferals, ready and willing to return the favor and risk their lives.

Of course, that assumed Jamie didn’t end up in jail for inciting a riot against the police.

“Don’t slow down!” Jamie shouted. “Overwhelm them! It’s our only chance.”

“You go inside for Nick.” Dominic clung grimly to the horse feral beneath him. “We’ll handle the rest.”

The Dangerous Familiars Squad drew together in a nervous knot at the sight of so many converging on them. “Stop, or we’ll shoot!” called their captain. “Men, get ready to—argh!”

A flock of birds fell on them, too many and too fast for them to take aim. Herons stabbed with their vicious beaks, and a swan chased one of the larger officers away, using its great wings like clubs. A hawk Jamie thought might have been Bess sank her talons into the hand of a man who’d drawn his revolver. He shrieked and spun, trying desperately to shake her off. The gun discharged, hitting one of his fellow squad members.

Then the rest of the mob was on them, some in animal form, others shifting to human to use makeshift weapons: bricks, branches, whatever they had picked up on the way. The officers started to fight back, laying about with nightclubs, and within minutes blood soaked into the bare earth.

But their line had crumbled, leaving a gap. A last man leapt out of the way to avoid being ridden down, and then Jamie was through.

He slid off the horse, swearing as his leg nearly went out from under him in his haste. Drawing his revolver, he hurled open the iron doors with all the force he could muster.