Because Bas knew about Coco, yes—but he also knew about me.

I wondered how much information on two witches was worth. His life? His prison sentence? A fair trade in the eyes of the Chasseurs, and one Bas was sure to make. Even if he had come back for me, he wouldn’t hesitate with his life in the balance.

I cursed myself for confiding in him. I’d known his character. I’d known who he was, yet still I’d allowed myself to relax, to spill my deepest secrets. Well—one of them, anyway. And now I would pay the price, as would Coco.

Stupid. So, so stupid.

“Please,” I repeated.

My husband blinked at the word, clearly stunned. But his shock soon gave way to suspicion. He scowled. “Why are you so concerned about him?”

“He’s a friend.” I didn’t care that my voice sounded desperate. “A dear friend.”

“Of course he is.” At my pained expression, he glared at the ceiling and added, almost reluctantly, “He’ll have a chance to save himself.”

“How so?”

Though I already knew the answer, I held my breath, dreading his next words.

“The witch is still our priority,” he confirmed. “If he gives us information that leads to its capture, his sentence will be reevaluated.”

I clutched the edge of the tub for support, forcing myself to remain calm. My other hand rose to stroke the scar at my throat—an instinctive, agitated gesture.

After a long moment, his voice drifted toward me on a whisper. “Are you well? You look . . . pale.”

When I didn’t answer, he strode across the room and crouched beside the tub. I didn’t care that the bubbles were thinning. Apparently, neither did he. He reached out and touched a strand of hair by my ear. Soap came away on his fingers. “You missed a spot.”

I said nothing as he pooled water in his palm and let it trickle down my hair, but my breath caught when his fingers hovered above my throat. “How did you get this one?” he murmured.

Swallowing hard, I searched for a lie and found none. “That’s a story for another day, Chass.”

He leaned back on his heels, blue eyes searching my face.

I covered the scar instinctively and stared at my reflection in the soapy water. After everything I’d been through—after everything I’d endured—I would not burn for Bas. I was no one’s sacrifice. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

There was only one thing to do.

I would have to save him.

My husband left me a few moments later to return to the council room. Vaulting from the tub, I hastened to find the candle I’d hidden within the linen cupboard. I’d nicked it from the sanctuary during Ansel’s tour yesterday. With quick, practiced movements, I lit the wax and set it on the desk. Herbal smoke immediately overpowered the room, and I sighed in relief. The smell wasn’t quite right, but it was close enough. By the time he returned, the magic would’ve faded. Hopefully.

After pacing the room frenetically for several long minutes, I forced myself to sit on the bed. Waited impatiently for Ansel to return.

He was young. Easily turned, perhaps. At least that’s what I told myself.

After an eternity and a day, he knocked on the door.

“Come in!”

He walked into the room warily, eyes darting to the washroom. Clearly checking to make sure I was properly clothed.

I stood and took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. I could only hope Ansel wasn’t wearing his Balisarda.

Smiling coyly, I locked eyes with him as he stepped farther into the room. My skin tingled in anticipation. “I missed you.”

He blinked at my strange voice, brows furrowing. Sauntering closer, I placed a hand on his forearm. He made to jerk away but paused at the last second. He blinked again.

I drew up against his chest and drank in his scent—his essence. My skin shone against the pale blue of his coat. We gazed at the glow together, lips parting. “So strong,” I breathed. The words flowed deep and resonant from my lips. “So worthy. They have made a mistake in underestimating you.”

A range of emotions flitted across his face at my words—at my touch.

Confusion. Panic. Desire.

I trailed a finger down his cheek. He didn’t lean away from the contact. “I see the greatness in you, Ansel. You will kill many witches.”

His eyelashes fluttered softly, and then—nothing. He was mine. I wrapped my arms around his narrow waist, glowing all the brighter. “Will you help me?” He nodded, eyes wide as he stared down at me. I kissed his palm and closed my eyes, breathing deeply. “Thank you, Ansel.”

The rest was easy.

I allowed him to lead me to the dungeon. Instead of proceeding down the narrow stairwell to the council room, however, we veered right, to the cells where they held Bas. The Chasseurs—my husband included—still questioned Madame Labelle, and only two guards stood outside the cells. They wore pale blue coats like Ansel.

They turned to us in bewilderment as we approached, their hands immediately reaching for weapons—but not Balisardas. I smiled as shimmering, golden patterns materialized between us. They thought they were safe inside their Tower. So foolish. So careless.

Catching at a web of patterns, I clenched my fists and sighed as my affectionate memories of Bas—the love I’d once felt, the warmth he’d once brought me—slipped into oblivion. The guards crumpled to the floor, and the cords disappeared in a burst of shimmering dust. Memory for memory, the voice in my head crooned. A worthy price. It is better this way.

Bas’s eyes shone triumphant as he beheld me. I drifted closer to the cell, tilting my head to the side as I examined him. They’d shaved his head and stubble in prison to prevent lice. It didn’t suit him.

“Lou!” He clenched the bars and pressed his face between them. Panic flared in his eyes. “Thank god you’re here. My cousin tried to bond me out, but they wouldn’t listen. They’re going to hang me, Lou, if I don’t tell them about Coco—” He broke off, true fear distorting his features at the distant, otherworldly look on my face. My skin glowed brighter. Ansel dropped to his knees behind me.

“What are you doing?” Bas ground his palms against his eyes in an attempt to fight off the charm emanating from me. “Don’t do this. I—I’m sorry I left you at Tremblay’s. You know I’m not as brave, or as—as clever as you and Coco. It was wrong of me. I should’ve stayed—I should’ve h-helped . . .”

A shudder wracked his body as I drew closer, and I smiled, small and cold. “Lou, please!” he begged. Another shudder—stronger this time. “I wouldn’t have told them anything about you. You know that! No—please, don’t!”

His shoulders drooped, and when his hands fell to his sides once more, his face was blissfully blank.

“So clever, Bas. So cunning. You always had such pretty words.” I cupped his face through the cell door. “I am going to give you something, Bas, and in return, you are going to give something to me. How does that sound?” He nodded and smiled. I leaned closer and kissed his lips. Tasted his breath. He sighed in contentment. “I am going to free you. All I ask for in return are your memories.”

I tightened my fingers on his cheek—on the gold swirling around his handsome face. He didn’t struggle as my fingernails bit into his skin, pricked the tiny silver scar on his jaw. I wondered briefly how he’d gotten it.

When I finished—when the golden mist had stolen every memory of my face and Coco’s from his mind—Bas fell to the floor. His face bled due to my nails, but otherwise, he would recover. I bent to retrieve the keys from the guard’s belt and dropped them beside him. Then I turned to Ansel.

“Your turn, precious.” I knelt next to him and wrapped my hands around his shoulders, brushing my lips against his cheek. “This might hurt a little.”

Concentrating on the scene before us, I stole the memory from Ansel’s mind. It took only a few seconds before he too fell to the floor.

I struggled to remain conscious, but black seeped into the edges of my vision as I repeated the process on the guards. I had to pay the price. I had taken, and now I must give. Nature demanded balance.

Swaying slightly, I toppled over Ansel and surrendered to the darkness.

I blinked awake a short time later. My head throbbed, but I ignored it, climbing hastily to my feet. The cell door was open, and Bas was gone. Ansel, however, showed no signs of stirring.

I bit my lip, deliberating. He’d be punished if found outside a prisoner’s empty cell, especially with two guards unconscious at his feet. Worse, he’d have no memory of how he’d gotten there and no way to defend himself.