“Come in,” I tell him quietly. “She’s sleeping now.”
He steps into the room, closing the door behind him with careful precision. His presence fills the space immediately. He’s not loud or overwhelming, he’s just so big. And his size makes me feel safe.
“Ah, I see she has a guardian.” Lucian nods at Mr. Mittens approvingly. “That’s good—cats are able to see and sense emissaries of the dead. This building is warded against any and all attacks, but on the off chance that Don Malthus tries anything else, your cat will warn us.”
I glance down at Mr. Mittens, who flicks his tail once but otherwise doesn’t move.
“Mr. Mittens isn’t exactly a guard cat,” I say doubtfully. “He pretty much loves everyone.”
“He would not love a death-dealer, I’m certain of that,” Lucian says, frowning.
A chill crawls down my spine.
“Do you think another thing like the one that attacked Hanna will be coming?”
The words feel like a curse as soon as they leave my mouth. The thought of seeing another one of those…things that touched Hanna makes my stomach knot and my chest go tight with fear.
“No, and not just because the Crimson Spires is warded against attack,” Lucian says, his expression grave. “But because Don Malthus knows he doesn’t have to attack again to claim Hanna as his own.”
My heart drops.
“What? What does that mean?” I demand, half angry, half terrified. “We can’t just let him take her!”
“I would never hand her over, but if she stays here in the Shadow Realm, she will eventually be drawn to his lands—to the Hollow Necropolis,” Lucian says. “It would take about a week, but it will happen—unless we send her back to the Human Realm.”
My breath rushes out of me in a shaky sound of pure worry.
“So if we get her home, she’s safe?”
Lucian nods.
“There is a barrier between the Shadow Realm and the Human world. He Soul-marked her, which would make it easy for him to draw her from one territory to another down here. But it has the opposite effect if she goes back. The very Soul-marking he laid on her makes it impossible for him to take her from the Human world without her consent.”
“Really?” Relief floods me so fast my knees nearly give out. “So can we get her home?”
“We can indeed—Whistler is working on it now.”
Something in his tone makes my stomach twist.
He sounds calm and controlled—too calm. All this sounds too easy. What’s the catch in this plan?
I open my mouth to ask what he isn’t saying—but before I can, he frowns and inhales slowly, his gaze snapping back to me.
“Little one, are you all right?”
He steps closer, reaching for me. I’ve been sitting on the bed while he stands over me—we’ve both been speaking in hushed tones—but when his hands close around my arms and he draws me gently to my feet, the room tilts.
For a moment, the world spins.
I sway, dizziness washing over me in a sudden wave, and Lucian’s grip tightens instantly, his arms coming fully around me to steady me.
“There’s something wrong with you—tell me what it is?” he demands.
Heat rushes to my face.
“It’s nothing,” I say quickly, mortified. “I’ve just been feeling weird ever since the carriage ride home, that’s all.”
“Weird how?” he presses.
