A moment later, Roarke stepped out into the alley in the older part of Magic’s Bend, Oregon. He set me down as quickly as possible and stepped away. I shivered when I lost his warmth.

Old buildings loomed on either side of us, and the late afternoon sun cast a golden glow on the cobblestone alleyway. Our clothes dripped cold water onto the stones. The tornado of black mist swirled around Roarke as he resumed his human form. Magic returned the shirt to his chest.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. “That’s easily the weirdest form of travel.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

I nodded gratefully and followed him out of the alley, keeping a wary eye on my surroundings. The ornate, colorful buildings of the historic district rose three stories tall on either side of the street. Supernaturals of all species roamed Magic’s Bend, and though demons technically weren’t allowed to leave the Underworld, they did. And this was the perfect place for them to blend.

They could be anywhere.

Were they really drawn to me?

I shivered again, as much from the stress as from the cold. I could handle myself against demons. No problem. But against a lot of them? When they ambushed me?

That was less certain.

Particularly if that weird soul thing happened every time I killed one. I did not want to be adopting all kinds of crazy powers. Especially demon powers.

We hurried across the street toward Roarke’s sleek black car and climbed in. The fancy electric engine was silent as the grave as he pulled away from the curb, but the warm air blasted, making my muscles melt.

So much better than Scooter, my motorcycle. I loved Scooter, but he didn’t boast heated air.

“I’m going to ask again. What the hell is going on?” Roarke navigated smoothly through traffic.

“I don’t know.”

“There are things you aren’t telling me.”

Yeah, duh. There were things I didn’t tell a lot of people. Like the fact that I was a FireSoul. He knew enough of my secrets; he didn’t need that one, too. Not until I could trust him. If I ever could.

“I really don’t know what’s going on.” I rubbed my upper arms for warmth, wincing at the sting of the burn on my arm.

“How’s your arm?”

“The usual.” Hurt like hell. But that wasn’t exactly unfamiliar territory for a mercenary.

Roarke pulled his cellphone from his pocket and punched in a number.

“That thing still works?” It should have gotten soaked in the lake.

“Magic.” He raised it to his ear and spoke quickly, commanding someone to come meet us at Ancient Magic. Then he hung up.

“Who was that?”

“Healer.” He turned onto Factory Row, the street that held my shop and apartment. “For that arm.”

As Warden of the Underworld, Roarke had an endless stream of demon minions to do his bidding. One was a healer, which came in handy at times like these.

“Thanks.” I didn’t even want to look at the wound because I was pretty sure that the leather was melted to my skin. “You sure you don’t have other things to be doing besides helping me out?”

His gaze landed on me briefly. “Even if I didn’t like you, you’re the most important thing to happen in Underworld developments since I became Warden. Not only did you escape hell after dying, you’ve got an unknown—and forbidden—connection to death magic. That makes you my highest priority.”

“You like me?” Of course my dumb brain latched on to that part. I was smooth.

His mouth snapped shut, and he clammed up real quick, focusing on the road.

Yeah, that was more on par with the last few days. He might have kissed me a few days ago, but he’d barely spoken to me since then. What the heck was going on with him?

I was used to a more linear progression with guys. One kiss led to more kisses. Or if it was a bad kiss, the guy was out of there like the Road Runner after dropping an anvil on Wile E. Coyote’s head.

But it hadn’t been a bad kiss. It’d been a great kiss. And then…nothing. Back to business as usual, with Roarke still helping. Which made our situation as clear as mud. The lack of clarity sucked because I liked him, but the scary part was that he knew some of my most dangerous secrets. So I needed him on my side, and any kind of cool-down made me nervous.

“We need to figure out what the fact that you’re the Guardian means,” Roarke said. “And this new development with your powers and the demons only makes that harder. You’re at risk until you can control your power.”

It had been only four days since the Phantom dragon named Draka had told me I was the Guardian between the Underworld and this one. We still had no idea what that meant, and Draka had been extremely unhelpful since she’d disappeared right after dropping that bombshell.

He parked the car outside of Ancient Magic, right in a pool of light cast by one of the imitation gas lamps that were meant to give the street a historic feel. It worked, especially now that the sun was starting to set, casting the old factory buildings in shadow. If you got rid of the cars and Scooter, who was parked across the street, the place looked like it could still be in its heyday in the nineteenth century.

I climbed out of the car in front of Ancient Magic. The wide glass windows were dark. It wasn’t even five o’clock, but it was close enough that it looked like Nix had closed up a bit early.

I shivered in the cool air, still wet from Lake Laberge, but I couldn’t take my wet jacket off until the healer fixed up my arm. I’d rather be cold than pry the melted leather away from my burned skin.

“I’m headed to P & P.” I turned and started down the street towards Potions & Pastilles, our favorite hangout place. “Cass and Nix will be there.”

Roarke jogged to catch up, a small duffle bag clutched in his hand.

“Change of clothes?”

He nodded. “I’ve learned that I’ll need them when I’m with you.”

I grinned. “Smart.”

A warm golden glow spilled out of the windows of P & P, welcoming me to my home away from home. I reached for the door, but Roarke’s hand appeared over my head and pushed it open, holding it so that I could enter. I ducked inside the warm, coffee-scented space, some of my fear evaporating away at the sight of Cass and Nix seated in our usual spot—the corner with the comfy chairs. Together, we could handle this. Totally.

Right?

“What the heck happened to you?” Cass asked.

Nix’s eyebrows shot up. “You look like hell.”

“Feel like it, too.” I approached the corner, weaving through the small, packed tables. It was Friday night, and as such, P & P was hopping with the weekend evening crowd. Connor and Claire, our friends who owned the place, sold whiskey and beer in the evenings.

Cass and Nix rose as I approached, concern on their faces. Aidan, Cass’s shifter boyfriend, approached from the bar, carrying a couple of drinks. He was as tall as Roarke, but he looked friendlier. Still a bit scary, considering how powerful his magic was, but he didn’t have Roarke’s Underworld air.

Aidan’s gaze dropped to my arm. “You all right?”

“Splendid.”

“Need a healer?” He handed Cass a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon, her beer of choice, and passed a wine glass over to Nix.

Roarke joined me. “One is coming.”

The door opened behind me and I turned. A small woman entered, clearly a demon from the sight of her two small horns.

“You’ve brought demons in my shop?” a voice asked from behind me.

I grinned, recognizing my friend Claire’s British accent, and turned to see her approaching. Her apron covered ratty jeans and a T-shirt instead of her fighting leathers, which meant she was on P & P duty instead of demon-killing duty. She was a part-time mercenary like me and wouldn’t take kindly to demons just wandering around. It was illegal for them to roam the earth freely, primarily because they were shit at keeping supernaturals’ existence a secret from humans. Though it wasn’t technically Claire’s or my job to take care of random demons roaming the street—we worked on contract—but us ignoring the demon was a bit like a doctor ignoring a heart attack victim.

“She’s a healer,” Roarke said. “Here on my authority.”

I glanced around. Patrons were turning to look, but no one said anything. Roarke’s voice carried, and even though these folks might not know he was Warden of the Underworld and it was technically within his rights to bring a demon here, it didn’t matter. It was clear he had the matter under control and wasn’t one to be messed with.

The small demon approached. Besides the tiny horns and the gray cast to her skin, she looked human. She even wore the flannel and jeans so common in this part of Oregon.

“What are we dealing with?” The tone of her voice was so deep that she sounded like the rumble of a truck’s engine.

My brows shot up. Okay. So her similarity to humans ended with her looks.

Roarke nodded at me, and the demon turned to look, her expression inscrutable. Her magic glowed around her like a halo of pale gray light. She approached.

“Thanks for coming,” I said.

“Don’t thank me yet.” She nodded for me to raise my arm.

I grimaced and obliged, standing patiently while she hovered her hands over my arm. Her magic glowed brighter, and the pain flared, an uncomfortable reminder of my mortality despite the fact I could turn into a Phantom.

And come back from the dead.

So was I mortal?

A week ago, I’d escaped the Underworld after dying from a sword blow. That wasn’t exactly normal.

After a moment, the pain faded. I risked a glance at my arm, relieved to see the reddened skin returning to its normal pale shade. The burned leather flaked off, drifting to the floor.

I met Claire’s gaze. “Sorry about that.”

She shrugged. “Floor’s seen worse. You want something to eat? A drink?”

“The usual, please. You’re an absolute lifesaver.”

She grinned and headed to the kitchen.

The demon stepped back and dusted her hands off. “That’s it. You’re good to go.”

I met her gray gaze. “Thank you.”

She jerked her head back toward Roarke. “Thank him. I ain’t cheap.”

“Ah.” I met his gaze. “Thanks.”

He nodded, then looked at the demon. “Walk you out?”

“Yep.” She followed him out the door.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Nix demanded, “So how’s it going with him?”

“You asked me that this morning, right before I left. Nothing has changed. He’s still distant. Doesn’t talk much. Touches me only when necessary. But he sticks around to help. Makes me nervous.”

“Stay nervous,” Nix said. She was always the cautious one. “He knows what you are and is technically supposed to take you back to the Underworld. I know he’s been helping you, but you’ve got to play it safe.”

She was right. This wasn’t just about me being moony over a guy I liked. It was a matter of my freedom and safety. If he wasn’t such a huge potential threat, I wouldn’t be so worried.

“Nah, he’s cool. He’s got a major thing for her.” Cass hiked her thumb at me. “Hasn’t left her side since she escaped the Underworld.”

“That’s his job,” Nix said.

Cass turned to face Nix fully. “No, his job was to bring her back. But he didn’t. He’s letting her stay here.”

Nix opened her mouth as if they were just getting started. I didn’t have time for that.

“Guys, I have a problem.”

Both their heads swiveled to look at me.

“I think I’ve stolen the Ubilaz demon’s power.” I pitched my voice low so the other patrons couldn’t hear.

“What?” Cass nearly shrieked the word.

So much for keeping this quiet.

I gestured to the chairs. “Take a seat. Let’s pretend we’re normal.”

We sat just as Claire returned with a slice of veggie quiche and a mug of boxed wine she kept especially for me.

I took them. “Thank you so much.”

“No problem. Let me know if you need anything.” She nodded back toward the bar. “I’ll be busy with this group, but just shout.”

I grinned and nodded as Cass and Nix leaned forward.

“Spill,” Cass said.

I gazed forlornly at the quiche on my plate, then met her gaze. “So yeah, demons are following me like they follow the Ubilaz. One of them called me an abomination and a power stealer. He seemed pissed that I’d stolen the Ubilaz’s power and wanted to kill me for it. And I may have stolen an ice demon’s gift for throwing icicles.”

Nix’s brows jumped up. “You, uh, did the FireSoul thing? You sure that was smart?”

“I didn’t mean to! I don’t want to have a bunch of demons appearing on my ass.”

“Yeah, that’s not a handy power,” Nix said.

I nodded. “Exactly. I don’t want this. And when I took the demon’s power, it didn’t look the same as when Cass stole powers using her FireSoul gift. I didn’t even try to do it, and it happened anyway.”

Nix frowned. “How’d it happen?”

I explained how the soul seemed to get stuck to me when I killed the demon.

“Yeah, that sounds different than stealing powers with our FireSoul ability,” Cass said. “It might be some combo of your death power and your FireSoul power.”

“That’s what I think. The first time I stole the Ubilaz demon’s power, Draka helped me. This time, I did it on my own.”

“So your power is growing,” Cass said.

“Mutating, more like,” Nix said.

“Great.” I swigged the wine. “I’m a monster mash. Perfect.”

“Hang on. Do you think that’s why that group of demons showed up outside the shop yesterday?” Nix asked.

The memory flared, forgotten in my pain and stress. We’d been hanging out at our shop, doing inventory of our most recent acquisitions, when a group of demons had appeared outside on the street.

“I’d assumed they were just there to rob us, like normal,” I said. “But yeah, now that you say it…possibly.” I rubbed a hand wearily over my forehead.

Stealing other supernaturals’ magic could make a Magica amazingly powerful. Unless it backfired. Like now.

The door to the cafe opened and Roarke returned, his clothes now clean and dry. Had he changed in the alley?

Resourceful.

I had a brief flash of myself hiding behind the dumpsters to take a peek and could feel my face flame red. For fate’s sake, what was I turning into? I was embarrassed by my own brain.

He approached and handed me a warm sweater. “We need to get you out of those damp clothes.”

“You wanna help her?” Cass asked with a grin.

I kicked her, not subtly, and met Roarke’s gaze with an awkward smile. “We need to figure out what the heck is going on with these demons first.”

He took the seat near me. “Any ideas?”

I tugged on his sweater, trying to ignore the sandalwood scent of it that made my heart race. How much truth should I tell? I was having a hard time trusting him, but I wanted him to trust me.

Anyway, he knew almost all of the story. The only secret I really wanted to keep was that we were FireSouls, since that one put my deirfiúr at risk. So I told him about unintentionally snatching the soul of the Ubilaz demon and our theory that I’d inherited his powers with it.

His gaze darkened with worry as I finished. “That’s not good.”

“Nope. I’ve got crazy new powers and no idea how to use them.”

“You have to learn to control it. Then you can probably repress whatever power it is that attracts the other demons to you.”

“Yes.” I could feel the desire in my chest like a physical thing. “But I suck at controlling my power. You saw me back at the lake. It’s like one moment I have control of it, and the next, a wall slams down in my mind, killing my control.”

That familiar sickening sense of failure rose, suffocating the desire to learn control.

I sucked in a ragged breath and shoved it away.

I had to keep trying.

“Your new power could get you killed,” Roarke said.

Great point. How was I supposed to be some great Guardian if I couldn’t even survive my own powers?

Cass tugged a wide golden bracelet off her wrist and passed it to me. “Try it.”

It was the one she wore to help dampen some of her powers. I took the dampener charm from her and slipped it on my arm.

“Now try to isolate the Ubilaz demon’s power and repress it,” Nix said.

I nodded, then set down my mug of wine and tried to identify the Ubilaz demon’s power within me. I’d spent most of my life with only one power, so trying to figure out how to navigate the magical world with multiple powers was pretty weird. Every supernatural dealt with their powers differently, and most had been taught by their parents.

Not me. I had no idea who my parents were. Or if they were even people, considering what my weird powers were.

But I closed my eyes and gave it my best, focusing on my body and the magic that vibrated within me. I tried to envision them as different colored lights. The Ubilaz was an orange light, I decided. Not a nice one. A sickly orange. I tried to grasp it, but it felt slippery to my imagined touch. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t get ahold of it.

“Does it feel like it’s working?” Roarke asked.

“It’s not,” Cass said.

My eyes popped open to see her pointing out the window.

“We have visitors.”

I turned to look out the window. Three demons had just appeared on the sidewalk, their eyes riveted to P & P.

Damn. I jumped to my feet.

This was my mess, so I’d clean it up.

The demons were muscle-bound lunks with massive horns and dark green skin. Their fangs were at least six inches long, and I’d bet my next paycheck that they dripped poison.

Customers turned to look at the demons, their brows raised. It wasn’t the most unusual sight, so no one freaked out, but it still wasn’t normal. Folks were on the alert.

Roarke stood beside me. “Let me take care of this. They’re fugitives from the Underworld. My responsibility.”

“I got it!” Claire called from the bar.

“No, I’ll take care of it.” I stepped forward.

“Seriously, let me.” She grabbed a sword from beneath the counter. “This is my place, and I’ll take care of it. Anyway, I’m itching for a fight.”

“How about one each?” I drew the short sword from the sheath at my back and hurried to the door.

“No.” Roarke’s voice was low and firm. “Unless you want to collect another power, it’d be better if you didn’t kill one.”

Double damn. He was right. That added a whole separate layer of complexity to this nightmare. And I hated it. I cleaned up my own messes—especially if they were demons. But now?

I didn’t want to steal that demon’s power.

“Fine.” The word tasted like dirt in my mouth. I stepped back.

Roarke headed to the door, but Claire beat him to it. She politely held the door open for him and said, “No one ever said we couldn’t maintain our manners while sending demons back to hell.”

I grinned, the first real smile I’d felt all day.

Roarke hurried onto the street, followed by Claire, and they made short work of the demons.

“This sucks,” I muttered. I might have miserable control over my magic, but killing demons was my thing. I was good at it.

Now I couldn’t even do that without possibly stealing their powers?

“You could try killing them remotely,” Cass said. “I mean, it’s something to consider. They’re going to be after you, so you need a defense mechanism.”

Like my Elsa powers. Shooting ice from my hand was remote. Even better, the weapon melted after it finished its grisly job. I’d just have to perfect its use.

“Good idea.” I pulled the dampening charm off and handed it to her. “Thanks for the loan, but I don’t think it worked.”

She nodded as she took it, her green eyes riveted to the street, where evidence of the charm’s failure was currently fighting our friends. Claire was wiping her blade off on a fallen demon’s shirt, and Roarke had just broken the last demon’s neck. His face was impassive, businesslike. It was clear that he didn’t like the killing part of his job, but he was good at it.

But that would be my life if I didn’t learn to control my power, which was growing and changing like crazy. Demons on my tail all the time and me relying on people to kill them for me.

The worst.

On the street, Roarke gestured to Claire and the door. She nodded and turned toward P & P, making her way inside.

“Thanks for handling that!” I called as I kept my gaze on Roarke.

He stood over the bodies, no doubt waiting for them to disappear back to the Underworld. They faded away to nothingness in record time, then he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed. As he was talking, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. I caught sight of the government license plate and my heart began to pound just as Cass cursed.

“Order of the Magica. Fuck.” She glanced around, clearly considering bolting for it.

It wasn’t a bad idea.

But the man was out of the car and nearly at the door in a heartbeat. Had Roarke called him? But no. Roarke was staring at his back, wariness on his face. He hadn’t called the Magica.

“Just repress your signature,” Nix said. “We’ll be fine.”

Cass nodded, her eyes still slightly wide. She was good at controlling her magical signature now, but her memory of being in the Order prison was still clearly front and center. Nix and I had always been good at keeping our species on the down-low, but even we got nervous around Order members and avoided them at all costs.

We all sat and tried to act casual, each of us focusing on keeping our magic tight to ourselves.

As the man walked into the cafe, his magic rolled out from him like a wave. His power smelled of the ocean and felt like vibrations against my skin. I shifted, uncomfortable and suddenly aware of my still-damp clothing. At least Roarke’s sweater made me look normal.

We were sitting here, still as statues, and that was totally not normal.

I caught Cass’s gaze and asked, “You want to see that new animated movie this weekend?”

Cass gave me the stink face—she wasn’t a fan of cartoons like I was—then nodded. “Yeah, I could totally go watch a bunny cop beat up on some carnivores.”

I kept the edge of my gaze on the Order member as he walked across the cafe. He glanced over at us, his bruiser’s face out of place against his neatly tailored suit. Something like confusion—or suspicion—flashed in his eyes, and my skin chilled.

I rushed to make conversation. Act normal. “You’ll love it.”

My shoulders relaxed slightly when he kept on moving to the counter.

“I’m in.” Nix raised her hand. “I love bunny cops.”

Nix was like me—all for the cartoons. The guy talked to Claire as Nix recounted the basic plot of the movie. Though I strained to hear what he said, I got nothing. Just indistinct chatter.

But I did see Claire’s face pale. She tried to play it off, but I couldn’t tell if the Order guy bought it.

A moment later, Roarke stepped into the cafe, his long strides eating up the floor. He sat next to me, his gaze riveted to the back of the Order member.

“You know him?” I whispered.

He nodded once, sharply. “An Order Enforcer.”

My throat dried. “Enforcer?”

“Yeah. Makes sure the rules are followed.”

I knew what an Enforcer was. Anyone who broke the law—which I did just by existing—knew what an Enforcer was. As the man turned and left, I couldn’t shake the chills. He glanced at us once more before leaving, that same weird expression on his face.

As soon as he was out the door, I asked Roarke, “He didn’t recognize you?”

“No. Never met him. I only recognized him by the plates on his car. Enforcer plates end in EX.”

Great. If he hadn’t recognized Roarke, it would’ve been me getting his weird look.

Claire hurried toward us, her face pale. She sat in the seat nearest us and leaned in. “There’s a problem. And it might have to do with you.”

My stomach pitched. “Oh, fates.”

“That was Orson Reyes, my handler—the one who gives me jobs on the Order’s behalf.”

“In person?” I only received assignments by phone or email. It was one of the perks of the job. But then, I was more part-time than Claire.

“It’s a top priority case. Orson’s a Sensor Mage with a specialty in demon magic. He’s gotten wind of a disturbance in the demon power sphere. It’s never happened before.”

Sensor Mages were well hooked into the invisible magical power grid that overlaid earth. They could sense different types of power. If Orson could sense demon power, was that why he’d looked at me funny? Did he know I possessed some?

“What the hell do you mean?” Roarke asked.

“A demon has died, but his power hasn’t disappeared from Earth. Orson thinks the demon’s power may have been put into an artifact.”

I nodded. That wasn’t uncommon. Our whole business at Ancient Magic dealt with spells and magic that had been imbued into artifacts.

“He wants me to figure out what exactly is going on and take care of it. Orson doesn’t like to get his hands dirty—that’s why he’s a handler and not a merc. But this way, he’d get credit with the Order for identifying and stopping the problem.” Claire looked at Roarke. “I bet that’s why they haven’t contacted you yet.”

Though Roarke was Warden of the Underworld and responsible for keeping the peace in the various heavens and hells, it wasn’t his job to keep track of all the demons who escaped onto Earth. There were just too many—and most were small potatoes. The Order’s mercenaries and bounty hunters—like me and Claire—usually took care of wayward demons. Roarke only handled the big guns. And this didn’t sound like one of those.

Yet.

“So what’s the deal?” I asked. “What does this have to do with me?”

“That’s the problem. Orson thinks it’s a Cat 5 demon’s power that’s running loose. An Ubilaz demon’s power, specifically. He can sense that the demon is gone, but his power isn’t.” She glanced out the window to where the three demons had appeared only ten minutes ago. “And you’re attracting demons, right? So I can only assume that Orson is wrong. The power isn’t in an artifact. It’s in you.”

My heart plummeted to my stomach.

Damn, she was smart. I’d only just figured it out myself, and she’d put the pieces together without even hearing my whole story.

“Yeah, you’re right.” I reached up and pressed my fingers to the lucky pendant I wore. It soothed me a bit, though I really needed to get into my trove full of lucky objects if I wanted to feel one hundred percent better. It was my own version of Valium.

“It’s particularly bad because only evil demons are attracted to the Ubilaz demon’s power,” Claire said. “That means that the worst of the worst are now acting unpredictably and weird.”

Great. Just my luck.

“I have a little time,” Claire added. “I’m obviously not going to turn you in. But you need to freaking fix this.” She looked at Roarke. “Before they bring this to his attention.”

The heart that had just sunk into my stomach rose back into my chest and started thundering. Holy fates, this was a serious rule break in Roarke’s territory, something that he really didn’t like.

Roarke nodded. “So if Del can control her magic and keep the demons from being attracted to her, Orson won’t be able to sense the disturbance in the demon power sphere, is that correct? She’d then fall off the Order’s radar.”

“I think so, yeah,” Claire said.

“Then that’s what we have to do,” Roarke said.

I gave him a small smile. “Okay. So I just have to learn how to control my powers while on the run from demons and the Order. No problem.”

Except I had no freaking clue how to do that. So, big problem. Very big problem.

“I have an idea,” Roarke said. “I have an acquaintance at Cambridge who might be able to help.”

Cass’s brows shot up. “The university in England? The all magic one?”

“They have an elite division of magical scholars whose life’s work is dedicated to mastering the control of various forms of difficult magic.” Roarke’s gaze met mine. “Maybe they could help you.”

“Wow, really?” I asked.

“I’ve never heard of that.” Suspicion laced Nix’s voice.

“No, they’re secretive. The whole university is on lockdown, their various colleges operating independently and often in secret.”

“I thought that was just because the town of Cambridge also has some mortals.”

“It does,” Roarke said. “It’s one of the few mixed cities in the world. But the university is fully magic. That’s one reason they’re so secretive. The other is that they don’t want everyone knowing exactly what they’re up to.”

“Then how do you know what they do, then?” Nix demanded.

Down girl, I wanted to whisper.

Roarke’s expression closed off, as if there was a story he didn’t want to tell. “Through my acquaintance.”

“Then we’ll come with you,” Nix said. “The way these demons keep showing up, Del needs the backup.”

“She does,” Roarke said. “But getting through the university and into my acquaintance’s office is going to be tough. Normally, you need an appointment to enter. We don’t have one. Cambridge is the Fort Knox of knowledge. To get in, we need stealth, not mass numbers.”

“You couldn’t just call your friend to get an appointment?” Nix asked.

“Acquaintance, not friend. And I tried, but he didn’t pick up. I didn’t expect him to, but I wanted to give it a shot.”

“So you’re heading into this Fort Knox with no idea if you’ll even be welcome? To see a guy who’s not even your friend?” Nix asked.

“I’ll do it.” I glared at Nix when she opened her mouth. “I have no control of this magic. And no idea how to even start. This is my best chance.”

Who was I kidding? It was probably my only chance.