Logan stepped forward as well. The map showed the placement of our forces and the basic specs of our new gates. The numbers on themaps were in code, so we weren’t giving our enemies everything, but the gesture pushed forward the trust we needed to build.
“If a single one of my men is hurt, I expect you to heal them, personally,” Logan said, coffee-colored magic glowing at his fingertip. He signed.
“I will,” Xan said simply. “And more.”
Xan handed Logan a coin pouch. “For any damages we may have caused.”
Logan pocketed it. It was a good first step. They walked past the few people who still refused to sign.
“If you’re uncomfortable keeping your bar open for the rest of my celebration, I understand.” My lover’s voice drifted as the two, with a squad of my men at their backs, walked down The Mile.
“No.” Logan sighed. “Even if you hadn’t paid me, I sold four of my most expensive bottles tonight; one of them was the last Tate, a fifty-year-old single malt. It is a shame their family had to mothball and silence the stills…”
The sound of their voices vanished.
“I’d like to sign now,” one of the men on the floor begrudgingly said.
I held up a finger and pulled out my TB. Everly checked in but had no information on Quinn. Except for Quinn and Brit, that was all of them. Even Quinn’s little banished stalker had been accounted for. My men picked him up loitering at our gates before the Mixer even started.
“Is everything okay?” Valentino asked.
I schooled my face. “If they are willing to sign, give them contracts. Otherwise, we’ll give them twenty-four hours to think about it, dangling from our walls.”
Men signed fast.
My TB buzzed again.
Snow White
Secret door in The Great Hall. Too many paths. Can’t find her. What’s plan B?
I squeezed my TB.
There was no plan B.
Again, I waited. Again, I barked orders like they mattered. While she bled into silence, I stood in a goddamn tent, tethered by duty instead of love. And now... it might already be too late.
Chapter 35
Quinn
Iwascollared.Metalat my throat stole my breath, looping my magic back into me like a cruel snare. It wasn’t pain, it was absence. My pulse ran wild with nowhere to go. Useless Majekah. No teleporting. I was helpless again.
I’d cried myself empty hours ago. The sun had risen and set again while Horax and Matt made their escape. My one peek at the world didn’t show me any familiar landmarks before our captors dumped us into a long, thin room.
“Eat. Drink. If you die, you’re worthless.” Horax toed my bare feet with Matt looming at his back.
His light-purple magic glowed, and the ropes holding me fell away. I wrenched the gag out of my mouth and drank. Warm water slid down my throat. I almost finished the bottle before I remembered Brit, whose still body lay just inside the door.
Horax laughed. “If you keep the pit fighter alive, I’ll let you keep her, maybe.” He stepped back, reaching for a handle. The hall behindhim was so dark I could barely make it out, and my captors vanished into it. A lock clicked into place. The colors of the rainbow lit up like a lightsaber around the door, trapping me in a silent psychedelic rave.
I crawled to Brit. Her chest rose and fell. I forced a bit of water between her lips, but didn’t know how to make her swallow. I knew nothing. Desperately, I searched the little space I found myself in. Soft carpet brushed my bare legs. Off-white walls reflected the rainbow lights on every side of me. A long, thin bed took up about a third of the back wall, while a toilet and small sink sat off to one side.
A sink meant water.
I stood and confirmed it worked before finishing the water myself. For God knows what reason, the sink grounded me. I’d lived believing magic wasn’t real my entire life. I couldn’t panic now just because it was gone.
The collar didn’t choke me, fear did. That impossible blue lingered behind my eyes, pulsing in memory, and a voice echoed… or maybe I only imagined it. It didn’t return. None of it made sense, but confusion had become familiar ground.
