Claire didn’t want to answer her phone. She was snuggled in her bed with Dante—fully clothed, of course—and had avoided hallucinating Jackson for about half a day, which was a record at this point. And if she opened her eyes to answer that stupid phone, this could all crash down around her.

“Are you going to get that?” Dante’s breath tickled her ear and caused her to squirm against him. Even through the thick fabric of his jeans, she could feel the bulge of his erection and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from turning in his arms.

She wanted to kiss him more than anything, but she was so worried about Jackson making another uninvited appearance. She let Dante think she was just tired and annoyed about earlier. Even though he obviously wanted more, he didn’t pressure her at all. Well, except for the fact that he was so damn pretty. But she could hardly blame him for that.

The phone rang again and Claire let out a sigh of defeat. “Fine,” she muttered as she leaned forward to grab the phone. It was Sam. “What?” she asked in a grumpier tone than she was going for.

“Get out!” screamed Sam so loud that Claire dropped the phone so it bounced off the mattress and fell onto the floor.

She and Dante both shot up and Claire had to scramble to bring the phone back to her ear. “What?”

“Abigail is sending some hellhounds after you. You need to run. Get out of there right now. Get moving.” Someone said something in the background, but Claire couldn’t understand it. “Angela thinks she knows somewhere for you to go. I’m going to message you the address, but get out of your apartment, okay?”

“Yeah. Leaving now.”

Claire hung up and turned to see Dante putting on his boots. “We’re leaving?” he asked.

“What do you know about hellhounds?”

He paused and looked at her. “What? Why?”

“Sam said Abigail is sending hellhounds after me.”

“Fuck.” He slammed his foot in the boot and jumped up without tying it. “Come on.”

“But I’m in my pajamas,” she said as he ushered her out of her bedroom. Claire just managed to snatch her tennis shoes as they left the apartment and scrambled down the stairs. Her feet were still bare as they reached the street and to where Dante had illegally parked his sports car in front of the building. Of course he would park wherever he wanted, she thought with a roll of her eyes as she got into the front seat.

“Angela sent us an address,” she said as Dante peeled away from the curb.

“There’s nowhere to hide,” he muttered as he swerved between cars.

“Should we just stay moving? They’re hounds, right? So they hunt by smell?”

“They smell magic. There’s no river you can cross that will hide you. And no magic I know of that is strong enough to stop them. Abigail shot the equivalent of a magical bazooka at you.” He cursed harder under his breath and his fingers drummed against the steering wheel.

It was so strange to see Dante scared. He was always so sure of himself and what he was doing. Well, his magic was so strong, she supposed he didn’t have much to be afraid of. But if these hellhounds had him literally running....

“Abigail is afraid of me,” said Claire, suddenly sure of at least that one thing.

“Huh?” Dante dodged another perfectly law-abiding citizen.

“If Abigail is throwing this kind of stuff at me, she’s afraid. Because I killed Jackson, that means I can kill her too, doesn’t it? This is a good thing.”

“Claire, I can’t—”

Her phone chirped again. “It’s a bank vault. Sam thinks we can hide out in there while she and Derek take care of the hounds.”

“A vault?” asked Dante. At least he seemed intrigued by the idea. “Like with the big walls and everything?”

“Do you think the hellhounds could get through it?”

Dante tightened his lips and didn’t answer, which was kind of an answer in itself. “It’s better than anywhere else we could go,” he admitted.

She put the address in the GPS of her phone and started to navigate him through the streets of Manhattan. There weren’t many abandoned buildings in this part of town, a fact she was more than familiar with thanks to her days of living on the streets, but this bank that had been shut down during the recession was boarded up tightly enough to keep any homeless from ever using it to escape a cold night on the streets.

But that wasn’t a big deal to Dante, who set a palm on the door, and after a quick, hushed spell, it clicked open. She tried not to stare. She’d never seen him do magic that wasn’t related to his exceptional mind control abilities. It was unexpected. She didn’t even know he could do anything else. Was it strange to not know that about a boyfriend? Damn it, she still didn’t know what was normal for witches and what wasn’t.

She didn’t have time to get upset at herself any longer. She followed Dante into the dark abandoned building. It was still set up like a bank. The poles that marked where the line would form were half standing and half knocked over. There weren’t a lot of cobwebs, signaling that not even bugs made a home here. Probably no food without humans around.

Dante leapt over the teller counter in one smooth movement, and instead of trying to be as cool as him, Claire carefully climbed over.

It was easy enough to find where the vault was. The room in the middle of the bank didn’t look like the movies. In fact, there seemed to be two different vaults. One barred door that led to the safety deposit room, and in the back of that room was the solid steel door that led to the safe. If she had to choose which room to hide in, it would be behind the massive metal door.

“Do we know how to get out of there?” she asked as Dante started to see whether he could get it closed to offer them protection.

“I have magic,” he said, in a not-too-comforting tone. “We’ll figure it out. Can you help with this?”

It must’ve been stuck on something if Dante couldn’t get it. Claire moved next to him and, putting her hands below where his gripped the door, started to pull at it, but nothing happened.

She braced her feet on the ground and put all her weight behind it. The door finally budged, but just barely. “Ugh. Is something blocking it?”

“I think the hinges are rusted,” said Dante. “Come on, don’t stop. Once it starts going, we’ll be good. Come on.”

She started to pull again when something inside the building rustled.

They both stopped and stood still. She didn’t hear growling or barking. Was that a good thing? Did hellhounds growl or bark?

Dante wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her back to the wall of safety deposit boxes. She tried to control her breathing so she made as little noise as possible, but what was the point of hiding? The dogs could find her magic, right? She needed to get away from Dante. She didn’t want him doing something stupid, like throwing himself between her and the dogs.

She was thinking of the best way to keep him from dying for her when a beam of light shone into the vault. Claire let out a sigh of relief. She knew almost nothing about hellhounds, but she was willing to guess they didn’t use flashlights.

Dante must’ve thought the same because he let her go and moved to stand in the beam of light. “Get your ass in here and help us,” he barked at whoever it was.

A second later, Angela Parker stepped inside. “Derek and Sam are coming soon.” She went to the door, where they all started to push on the door.

“Where are they?” asked Claire through clenched teeth. Right then, there was a boom that echoed through the building, vibrating the walls. “Never mind,” she said.

“We split up to find a way inside,” said Angela. “I’m betting they just made their own way. I found the wide-open door.”

The vault door was finally starting to move and was about halfway to closed when Claire heard it—an ominous skittering in the distance. Instinctually, she knew. A dark chill made its way down her spine and she knew death was coming for her. “They’re here,” she whispered.

At that same moment, she heard Sam scream, “Claire!”

She and Angela both abandoned the big vault door at the same time and instead slammed the barred door to the safe deposit room shut. As the lock clicked into place, something slashed at her fingers. Claire gasped and stepped back as the blood spilled from where the hound had gotten her across the knuckles.

And then all she could do was stand there and stare in horror. The hounds threw themselves against the bars. Every time they backed up to get momentum, they’d let out a deep growl that seemed to vibrate right through her.

Oh, God. She was going to die.

“Hey!” screamed Sam from behind the hounds. Angela pulled Claire away as the room was lit with fire, signaling that Sam had just tried to blast them with heat. A second later, shots rang out, signaling that Derek had joined the fight.

“We’ve almost got it,” said Dante as they all resumed positions on the door. Claire tried to get a grip again, but the blood made the door slippery, and the second she tried to apply pressure to her injured hand to help, the burning intensified and she gasped before letting the door go.

She held her hand and fell back into the concrete room where the money had been kept. It was cold and dark and dirty and an altogether horrible place to die.

Angela and Dante were finally getting the door to move, and in a second, they were plunged into darkness. A second later, Angela’s small flashlight illuminated the room. She pulled off her jacket and started to rip a piece free, but her hands couldn’t get it. Dante took it from her and in one quick motion, the material ripped and he wrapped it around Claire’s hand. Every jerk had pain racing through her entire body, from the tips of her fingers right down to her toes.

She didn’t want to be a wimp, but she couldn’t help gasping at the agony. “Something’s wrong.” Her hand started to tremble.

“It’s okay.” Dante pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’m right here.”

“No.” She shook her head. “You don’t unerstannn...” Speaking became harder as the pain seemed to vibrate within her mind. “Someingggsss wro....”

Angela’s flashlight started to dim, but neither she nor Dante seemed concerned. Then Claire realized it wasn’t the flashlight going out. It was her. She looked at Dante. If she was going to die, it might be a horrible place, but at least her last vision would be of Dante.

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“Claire.” Dante put a hand on her shoulder and gently shook her. “Claire!” he screamed louder.

Angela reached out and put a hand on his wrist. “Come on. That’s not going to do any good right now. You saw the pain she was in. No use waking her up until we can actually help her.”

Angela had been in a few life-and-death situations before, and she liked to think she could read people. Claire didn’t seem like the type to pass out from fear.

Which meant it was something else that had gotten to the poor girl. Angela stood and looked around them. The room was small. There wasn’t even enough space for them to lay Claire out. She needed to remain sitting against the back wall. She couldn’t exactly call Pierce to see what was happening out there, so she did the next best thing and put her ear near the door. Not right on it because the door was metal and apparently Sam had a thing for fire. Pierce had told her that, but seeing it was a whole different level of weird.

“Have you ever dealt with something like this before?” she asked Dante.

He leaned back against the side wall and ran a hand over his eyes. “With hellhounds? No. They are the boogeyman. The thing your parents tell you stories about to scare the hell out of you.”

Well, that wasn’t comforting at all.

“Yeah, but if anyone can survive this, it’s your girlfriend, right? Isn’t she a boogeyman in her own right?”

He looked down to where the small blonde was unconscious. “How badass does she look to you?”

Angela was small, too, at only five foot five, but thanks to constant workouts and working in a male-dominated field, she was muscular. Claire was a waif, the result of years of wandering the streets from what Pierce told her.

“You’re a good boyfriend,” she said suddenly, surprising both herself and Dante apparently from the look he gave her. “Sticking around through all this. Not everyone would do that. And from what I heard, you aren’t exactly lacking for female company. You’re just doing it because you care about her.”

He smiled weakly and she realized there was a lot to this story she was missing. “I’m sorry if I overstepped....”

“She doesn’t love me.”

Angela blinked at the unexpected admission. “What?”

“She likes me, but... I’ve broken up with enough women to know the signs.”

Angela looked between Claire and Dante. She knew so little about either of them, and she was the last person to be giving anyone relationship advice. In fact, being trapped in a small room with an unhappy couple might be her definition of hell.

But she was stuck here, so she tried not to let her fear show. “I’m sure you two will figure it out.”

“She’s a virgin. I’ve never been with a virgin. I don’t know the first thing about being with someone that innocent. What if I break her?”

Nope, nope, nope. She was not qualified for this conversation. “I don’t know.”

“Seriously, look at me.”

She really didn’t want to, but she allowed her gaze to move over to him where the flashlight made his green hair look black and the planes and valleys created by his striking bone structure cast heavy shadows on his face. “I’m looking.”

“Do I look like someone who should be with her?”

For the love of— “You look kind of like a demon right now,” she snapped. Then she took a deep breath and said in a nicer tone, “Claire isn’t blind. She knows what you look like and it doesn’t bother her. So calm the fuck down and just be the boyfriend she wants.” There. Calm the fuck down. She should have her own advice column or something.

Suddenly Dante pushed away from the wall and met her eyes. She started to look away but then she didn’t want to. She just stood there and stared into those green orbs that now seemed too bright in the darkness. “Tell me what you really think about Claire and me.”

Before she knew what was happening, she spoke. “Claire survived a massive life-or-death situation and jumped into a relationship with you. She’s never had a boyfriend before so the chances that this will work out with you are slim to none. You don’t like yourself, and being with someone as unique as Claire makes you feel better about yourself and inadequate compared to her at the same time. But you’re not with her because you love her. Just because you love how she makes you feel. Which kind of makes you an asshole.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she covered her lips with the palm of her hand and gasped. “What did you just do to me?”

He shook his head and stepped back. “Sorry, I—”

Her fist shot out and slammed into his stupid beautiful cheekbone. The crack echoed through the room.

He groaned in pain, but she wasn’t done. She threw another right hook at him, but he was more prepared this time and grabbed her wrist. But her knees still had a clear shot. She purposefully avoided the groin and showed him just how flexible she was and went for his gut instead.

But instead of folding over in pain, he threw his weight into her and pushed her against the door. “I get it!” he bellowed as he tried to immobilize her. “I won’t do it again.”

“Damn right you won’t,” she said, right into his face. “What the fuck gives you the right to invade my mind? I’ve done nothing but help you, you son of a bitch.” She wanted to go on for hours about how pissed off she was, but she didn’t see the point right now and clenched her jaw.

“I’m going to let you go,” he said carefully.

“You think I couldn’t get out of this if I wanted to?” she snapped. “I’m a detective for fuck’s sake and—”

He let her go and she had to regain her balance and tried not to fall right on Claire, who was still out cold. She stared in annoyance at Dante and tried to figure out whether she should’ve hit him more. But then he would try that brain thing with her again and she sure as hell didn’t want that. Derek said mind control was a thing, but experiencing it was a violation she never thought about.

Especially considering she was alone in a room with this guy for who knew how long. She glanced at her watch. If she was here for another hour, she’d revisit the idea of killing him.

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The door flew off its hinges and across the room. Sam said a silent thanks that it didn’t hit anyone she knew on the other side. She and Derek stepped inside and glanced around the dark, abandoned bank, looking for any sign of Dante and Claire. They should’ve beaten her and Derek there. She snapped her fingers and held some fire in her palm as they moved farther into the room. She’d been pretty depleted after her encounter with Abigail at the ruins, but the drive back, even at breakneck speed with the siren on, had given her a little bit of time to recharge.

The adrenaline of the evening had helped charge her up too. What would really help would be a few hours alone with Derek, but they didn’t really have time for that right now.

He glanced to the flame in her hand. “You’re getting better at that.”

“Slowly but surely,” she said as they moved farther in. “Did you text Angela to tell her we’re in?”

“I will.” She realized he had his gun drawn and ready, so she assumed he didn’t want to distract himself with his phone. It was comforting to have him with her. Not just because he was her boyfriend, but because he was a cop. He knew how to go into dark rooms and react when things came running out of the dark.

Even so, she stayed right by his side, careful not to let him walk in front of her. If they saw the hounds, theoretically they’d be reasonably safe. The dogs hadn’t killed them right away back at the ruins. They were focused on Claire.

She glanced around the abandoned building. “How has this stayed unoccupied for so long?”

“It’s evidence in a fraud case.”

“The building is evidence?”

“The joys of the judicial system and an overpriced lawyer.”

“They’re not all bad,” she said, thinking of her mother. The way her mother used to be. Would she ever see Abigail again? The real Abigail?

Heather had seemed as if she could be saved, but Claudia obviously didn’t agree. And didn’t Claudia know better than anyone about what the darkness was capable of?

Her magic did absolutely nothing to Abigail. Derek’s bullets didn’t damage her at all. Claudia was.... She had no idea what Claudia was doing. So what options did they really have? Just run away and hope Abigail didn’t destroy the world?

Maybe if this was anyone else, but this was her mother. This was family and one of the few family members she had left now that Heather was gone.

“Sam,” whispered Derek next to her.

She jumped and looked over her shoulder at him.

“Keep focused,” he said.

She wondered how he knew her mind had wandered to a dark place and then she realized that the fire in her hand had expanded to a pulsating ball. Oh.

She pulled back to keep it just enough to light up the room. She moved her arm around to light up the corners and the four glowing eyes seemed to jump out at her. The hounds, which had been dead silent before, took a step closer to her, and she screamed, “Claire!”

At that moment, something slammed shut and Sam could make out a barred door that Claire was behind while the hellhounds charged. After glancing over to make sure Derek was out of the way, she released the fire and sent a blast right at both dogs.

Sam had always considered herself an animal lover, so the idea of burning the creature alive, even as ugly as he was, was abhorrent. But not as abhorrent as the idea of being eaten alive by a demon dog.

But she shouldn’t have worried. The hounds didn’t seem to feel the fire at all. But it did distract them from Claire for the moment. They gave up on charging the metal door and instead they started to charge at her. Sam was sure she was done for when the shots rang out. Derek got the first one in the chest twice before he turned to the second one, which he got at least once, but Sam stopped paying attention.

The first hound was pushed back by the bullets but didn’t stop. It bowed its head on the ground and all of its muscles seemed to stiffen; a second later, a metallic clink hit the floor.

Derek grabbed her arm and she jumped. “We have their attention,” he said. “Let’s go.”

She nodded even as she started to back up before she turned and they took off running. A few seconds later, she could hear the pounding of paws on the ground and knew the hounds were chasing them. She went through the entire roster of curse words she knew in her mind as they twisted down a hallway. The hounds were ten times faster than either of them, so they needed to get behind something now.

The first door she saw, she turned in to and shoved the door shut. It was a janitorial supply closet. Nowhere to go from here. Derek pulled one of the metal shelves away from the wall and she helped him. The metal just touched the door when something slammed into it. The shelf was pushed back, but Derek and Sam didn’t let it go far.

Sam put all of her weight into keeping the door shut and squeezed her eyes closed. Was this how she was going to go? In a supply closet?

But when her eyes opened, she saw Derek and she wasn’t quite as afraid anymore. They’d faced worse odds than this before. Hell, just last night they’d managed to get out of an impossible situation. They’d get out of this too. She reached over and took his hand in hers.

Another crash hit the door, and this time it was powerful enough to send both Derek and Sam flying back. Sam’s back hit the brick wall behind her hard, and her breath flew out of her body.

The door had burst open, barely hanging on by one of its hinges, and the knob section was ripped in two by the force of the hellhound body-slamming the door.

Both of the hounds stared into the room. Sam met the glowing orange eyes and stared them down. She wasn’t about to show fear. Instead, she used the adrenaline to take one of the metal shelves and, using her magic, flung it at the hounds.

Her fire might not hurt them, but the shelf hooked around their necks and slowed them down.

Derek pulled her up, but she didn’t look at him. She flung anything and everything she saw at the hounds, trying to slow them down any way possible. Derek pulled her out of the closet and they had to squeak by just a few feet from the snapping jowls of the black dogs. Sam threw a paint can at them for good measure before she and Derek took off at full speed down the hallway.

She could hear the hounds back on their tail, but there was nothing around her she could think of to throw anymore. There was no furniture or paintings in the abandoned hallway. Just doors to who knows what that would never hold off the hounds for long.

They were about ten feet from the end when the doorway in front of them flew open.

Derek and Sam both came to a skidding stop as Claudia stepped out. But she didn’t look at them. She stared right past them and stared down the hellhounds.

Claudia tilted her head as she considered the hounds, which had stopped in their tracks. The second Sam realized what Claudia was about to do, she took Derek’s hand and tugged him out of the way right as Claudia sent a blast of blue flame straight down the hall.

The flames immediately engulfed the hounds. Sam thought they would have no effect like when she tried, but the hounds instantly let out an unearthly scream as the flames caught on. Then they both took off running in the other direction.

Sam was still catching her breath as Claudia approached. “Where is the soul sucker?”

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Pain. It was all Claire felt. She opened her eyes, but nothing looked familiar. Was she underground? A second later, a plume of orange fire shot out of the wall next to her and she leapt away from the heat, crawling on her hands and knees as fast as possible over jagged rocks and stones to get to a wider part of the cave.

When she put weight on her right hand, a burst of pain shot up her arm, but when she squinted in the dim light, she didn’t see anything wrong with it.

Wait, that wasn’t right. Wasn’t it cut? The dogs. There had been dogs and she’d been inside a... what? Some old building....

Something warm brushed her ankle. Claire jerked away, looking all around her, but she couldn’t see anything. She blinked a few times and tried to see through the darkness, but everything seemed to be fuzzy around the edge. How was she supposed to survive if she couldn’t focus?

She kept crawling forward, the only option she really saw. She put everything she had into her efforts, and after a few minutes of darkness and more sensations she hoped to never relive, she finally reached a wider section of the cave.

Once she could stand, she looked right and left. She had to pick a direction to go, but she had no clue which. Come on.... Wind? She should focus on what direction the fresh air was coming from and go that direction.

Except the air wasn’t moving at all. Shit. She was about to say fuck it and go right, but something wrapped around her waist and pulled her back. She opened her mouth to scream, but a big hand covered it.

“What are you doing here?” snapped the angry voice in her ear.

The angry, familiar voice. She started to struggle in his hold, but it might as well have been a steel band around her. She was going nowhere until he wanted to let her go, and she had a sickening feeling she didn’t want to be screaming or drawing attention to herself wherever she was.

She tried a different technique and grabbed his arm. Except it wasn’t smooth skin. It was rough and ragged. She couldn’t see it, but she could feel that the strong forearm was covered with old and new scars. He finally let her go and she was quiet. Finally, she said it. “Jackson, what happened to you?”

Bright light flooded Claire’s vision and she blinked to clear her line of sight as she sat up. “Jackson!” she called, but Jackson wasn’t there. She jumped up and looked around her as the people surrounding her came into focus. She wasn’t in some dark and dangerous cave anymore. It was the beautifully decorated library at Claudia’s. She’d been on a couch and everyone was there.

Dante, Sam, Derek, Bastian, and Angela all surrounded her. Claire’s chest rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath and reconcile her present with the dream that had seemed so all-encompassing. “What happened? Where am I?”

Sam stepped forward and held out her hands in a nonthreatening way. “It’s okay. You’re at Claudia’s. One of the hounds bit you and the venom has potent symptoms. Claudia said that the effects would wear off on their own, though, so you should be feeling better now. And you’re awake, which I think is a good sign, but you look like you’re about to attack me at any second, which makes me less happy.”

Claire’s heart pounded in her chest and she realized everyone was looking at her as though she were crazy.

“You said ‘Jackson.’” Derek stared at her intently. He wasn’t accusing, but he was using that stupid cop voice where he was digging for information.

“It was a dream,” she said, probably a bit too quickly.

Dante walked around the couch until he could wrap her in his arms, and Claire hugged him back tightly, thankful for the warm, strong presence. “I was so worried.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Claire was quiet as she stayed there. Her legs were shaky and having someone to lean on was nice. Someone who wasn’t asking her questions about Jackson or the strange dream.

The clacking of heels warned her that someone else entered the room, and Claire pulled away from Dante. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Angela looked at her skeptically, but she couldn’t wonder about it too much before everyone turned to face Claudia.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” said the dignified woman.

Unconsciously, Claire stood up straighter in front of the powerful witch. “Thank you.”

“How are you feeling? What did you see while you were out?”

Claire shifted her weight, and Dante must’ve seen her discomfort because he reached down and intertwined his fingers with hers, offering silent support. She smiled her thanks at him, but the smile quickly evaporated when Claudia said, “Claire, come with me. Maybe it would be best if we had this conversation in private.”

As horrible as that idea sounded, she found herself incapable of declining Claudia. It wasn’t mind control. It was just that Claire was so intimidated, she literally forgot how to say the word “no.”

She found herself moving, one foot in front of the other, until she was in Claudia’s office. Claudia started to shut the door behind them, but Sam’s hand shot out and she stepped inside. Sam and Claudia stared off for a moment, but eventually, Claudia stepped aside and let her granddaughter inside. Then all three women moved to the desk and Claudia sat at her rightful spot behind it.

“How much do you know about a hellhound bite?” she asked.

Claire glanced down to where her hand was bandaged. The venom must’ve mostly made its way out of her system because it barely ached anymore. “I know it hurt like a bitch,” she said, not looking up.

“Those visions you had weren’t just a dream. The hounds themselves offer a doorway to hell. What you saw was real.”

A chill shot down her spine and she really wished she wasn’t hearing this. “I saw Jackson,” she said softly.

“I know,” said Claudia. “That’s why I’m telling you this. What did he say to you?”

Out of nowhere, tears welled up behind Claire’s eyes and she wiped them away. “I don’t.... It all happened so fast.”

Claudia leaned forward on her elbows and stared at Claire until Claire finally lifted her gaze and met the woman’s eyes. “This is important. Did he tell you anything we can use?”

“No.” She thought back to the few seconds she’d been with him. She hadn’t even managed to see his face in those seconds, let alone have a conversation. “He wanted to know why I was there and then I was gone. I never even had a chance to answer him.”

Claudia leaned back, the disappointment evident on her face.

“Why?” asked Sam. “What did you think Jackson could tell us?”

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“Yes, it matters. Can he help? Do we need to find some more hellhound venom? Because I’m sure I can manage it. Claudia, you need to give me something I can help with here. Even when I try to stay out of things, I end up getting dragged into this. You can’t keep me in the dark anymore. I won’t let you.”

“She’s going to kill me, isn’t she?” asked Claire.

“Don’t be dramatic,” said Claudia.

“No. I mean, no matter what, I’m going to die. She wants me dead because she knows I can hurt her. But you haven’t tried to recruit me to attack her because you know I won’t survive it.”

“Don’t worry,” said Sam. “We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

But Claudia was conspicuously silent and Claire knew better. “I can do something, can’t I? I can stop Abigail.”

“You have abilities that are very unique in our world,” admitted Claudia. “But the darkness in my daughter, that kind of power, it’s angry. And vengeful. And if you try to remove it from its host, it will lash out.”

“But I can get it out, right?”

“You’ll never survive.”

“But I can get it out.”

Sam stood abruptly and looked between the two of them. “Can we please stop talking about last resorts and get real. There has to be a way to get this done without my best friend dying.”

Claudia stood as well. “What do you think I’ve been doing, Samantha?” The words didn’t feel like a shout, but they echoed through the room. Sam was silent as Claudia continued. “I have spent the last day looking for anything and everything to save Abigail, and I hit dead end after dead end. If Claire were anybody else, I would’ve approached her days ago. But how many of us, how many humans are going to have to suffer before we admit what has to be done?”

Sam’s jaw clenched and Claire could just see all the ways her friend was trying to avoid the truth. “We don’t know if Abigail has hurt anyone,” she bit out.

Claudia looked at Sam with sympathy in her eyes. “Those witches she took control of are in pain. You’ve been infected by the darkness before. You know exactly the toll having your free will taken from you can wreak. And if you think the darkness will sit back and lead a simple life, you’re reaching.”

“Whatever.” Sam moved away from the desk and shook her head. “We’ll keep Claire dying as a last resort, but I’m not going to give up that easy, okay?”

Claudia looked at Claire, and even though neither woman said anything, the meaning was evident. Claudia made it known that she’d do whatever it took to defeat the darkness, and Claire silently made a promise that if it meant keeping people safe, she’d do whatever she needed to do.