“Such fire.” Vyse crosses the room in three long strides, stopping in front of her. He takes her hand before she can react, lifting it toward his lips. “I’m Vyse. And you are?”
“Deeplyuncomfortable.” Sadie yanks her hand back. “Also not living in the Victorian era, last I checked.”
Vyse laughs. The sound is genuine, surprised, and it transforms his face from menacing to almost charming. “Oh, I like her. She’s delightful.”
She raises an eyebrow. “’Delightful’ isn’t usually the word people use.”
“Most people lack vision.”
Sadie shoots Micah a look that clearly sayswhat the hell is wrong with this guy?Micah just shrugs helplessly.
“What do you want, Vyse?”
Villeneuve’s voice is sharp and commanding. He’s moved while I wasn’t paying attention, positioning himself between me and the siren even though Vyse’s attentiondefinitelyisn’t on me at the moment. I notice the others have done the same thing, unconsciously.
A wall of wolves between me and the predator.
Cute. Unnecessary, but cute.
Vyse’s attention shifts to Villeneuve. He stares the dragon down for a few seconds, as if he’s considering whether or not it’s worth it to challenge him in his own home, before he sinks back into his chair.
Evidently, it’s not worth it.
“Straight to business, then.” He waves a dismissive hand. “You’re a bore, Elias. Always were.”
“The feeling is mutual.” Villeneuve hasn’t moved from his position in front of me. “I assume you have news, or you wouldn’t be here.”
“News. And a proposition.” Vyse examines his nails. “Take your pick.”
“Both, preferably. Quickly.”
Vyse’s smile sharpens. “As you wish. There’s been no progress on locating Kyle Starbridge. The man has apparently vanished into thin air, which is impressive given how desperately the Council wants to find him. Necromancy tends to make people… touchy.”
Killian makes a sound low in his throat. Not quite a growl, but close.
“However,” Vyse continues, “we do still have several members of his coven in custody. The ones who survived that delightful confrontation in the meadow.” His gaze flicks to me, then away. “They’ve been notably unforthcoming so far. Even with certain enhanced methods of interrogation.”
“Enhanced?” Rowan’s voice is flat.
“Nothing too dramatic. A few psychic nudges. Some creative truth serums. The usual Council toolkit.” Vyse sounds disappointed in the Council’s restraint. “But they’re not talking. Not about Kyle, not about the necromancer, or anything useful.”
Villeneuve’s jaw tightens. “Starbridge must have placed a spell on them. Some kind of binding to prevent them from divulging information in the event of capture.”
“That was my assumption as well.” Vyse leans forward, elbows on his knees. “But here’s the interesting part. There’s no evidence of such a spell. No magical signature, no binding marks, nothing. I’ve examined them quite thoroughly. If there’s a spell, it’s unlike anything I’ve encountered, and I’ve encountered a great deal.”
The room goes quiet.
“That’s not possible,” I hear myself say. “Compulsion magic always leaves a trace. It has to. The binding requires an anchor point in the subject’s mind.”
Vyse’s attention shifts back to me. “You’re absolutely right. Which is why I’d like to bring in someone with a close connection to the coven.”
My stomach drops.
“Someone who’s familiar with Kyle’s magic,” he continues. “Someone who might recognize patterns or techniques that an outsider would miss.”
He’s still looking right at me.
“No.”
