Promises to Keep

before, because she was dead.

Jeremy was trying to give CPR, thinking, We’re not equipped for this kind of crisis here. And, Jay, if your magic can help, now is the time.

Jay couldn’t help with dead. Could anyone help with dead?

Jeremy seemed to think Jay could.

“I can’t.”

He backed out of the room, running into Rikai, who had followed like a shadow once again. As his hand brushed hers, her pain slipped past his already strained shields. Not just now-pain. Memories. Stretching, falling, wrenching, burning, stabbing, slicing … and she had been so innocent then, so young.

And now her body was riddled with enough scar tissue that it was remarkable she could walk. Her power was still holding some of the worst injuries back, but it was taking all her energy to do so.

She yanked her hand and power away from his with a glare, as he gasped, “I’m sorry. How—”

He didn’t finish asking the question, because the answer came to him: Inquisition. Most of Jay’s ancestors had managed to flee the church’s deadly fire, but this woman had been caught in it. She had still been human. Worse, she had once been absolutely faithful to the church. She was one of the rare few the inquisitors had never broken. She had been certain that lying to stop the pain would damn her forever, and so she had never confessed, never named the names they’d demanded in order to make the pain stop.

Jay gagged, trying to shove her memories away, trying to push aside the panic the nurses and volunteers and people who worked here were feeling because normally witches dealt with the scary cases and everything else was okay. Jay ran from the poor little nurse who was doing her best to take over for Jeremy, though she was thinking, This is why I left New York?

Back down the hallway.

Block out the fear, the fever dreams, the shuddering weakness, the—

Rikai grabbed his hands, and pain shot through him like lightning—but this time it was intentionally given, not accidentally shared. It cut through the emotions he couldn’t seem to block out, and momentarily cleared his mind.

“You. Need. To. Focus,” she snapped. “You—”

A faint buzz interrupted her. Letting go of one of his hands, Rikai reached into her pocket and retrieved a slim flip phone, which she opened with clumsy, stiff fingers. “Yes?”

Her expression never changed as she listened for a few moments, but she dropped Jay’s other hand as she said, “Pick me up from SingleEarth Haven Number Two.”

She closed the phone, looked at Jay, and said, “My power comes in part from the same elemental who gives us all our magic, but beyond Leona, I have made deals with entities darker than your deepest fears. If Xeke dies, and you are responsible, then know I will see you devoured by creatures you cannot begin to comprehend.”

“Xeke’s sick?” Jay asked. How could a vampire get sick? Unless he was like Brina. Jay hadn’t even thought of her since arriving. Was she sick, too? He should check on her.

Rikai shook her head. “He is as he has been, but he feeds and feeds and cannot staunch the bloodlust. He nearly killed his lover this evening when he woke.”

“Please,” Jay whispered. “If you have any idea what is happening—if you can help—you need to tell me.”

“I should think it would be perfectly obvious,” Rikai replied infuriatingly.

“Well, it’s not!” The only thing that was obvious was that she was standing in the middle of a sick ward that could too easily turn into a morgue, and she didn’t seem to care.

“Fine. The elemental you helped, the one you thought offered to attack Midnight, has chosen to start a little higher on the chain of command than the slave traders or the trainers,” Rikai answered. “The Shantel elemental isn’t going after vampires. She’s going after Leona.”

“I don’t understand.”

Rikai laughed, but the sharp, barking sound barely seemed to indicate amusement. “You probably don’t want to understand, little witch. Because if I understand right, you caused this.” She made a sweeping gesture encompassing all the chaos around them. “You’ll live through it, as long as you stay out of the way. The Shantel elemental has marked you, and her power will protect you. But when elementals war, civilizations burn.”

I didn’t want this, Jay thought desperately as Rikai turned on her heel and headed toward the door. Please. I didn’t want any of this.

CHAPTER 19

A WAILING BABY. People coughing. Red blood left behind on a white handkerchief.

I will get us out of here. I swear to you, I will get us out of here.

You’re dead, Daryl. You can’t help me now.

Brina woke with a violent shudder, hoping to discover that the entire previous day had been nothing but a surreal nightmare.

No such blessing.

She opened her eyes to find herself back in her tiny, sterile room. The smell of antiseptic stung her nose, and the lingering drugs had left her mouth dry and her head foggy. Wisps of dreams and memories kept seeping into the waking world, confusing her further.

Angelica, please don’t cry.

Brina couldn’t get the memory of that baby’s wail out of her head. At the end, of course, it hadn’t been a wail but rather a wheeze, as little Angelica’s skin had darkened and—

No! Don’t think of that.

Brina stared at the door, summoning the courage to stand and try to open it. She didn’t want to know if it was locked and guarded.

Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, and the lambs play.

They put chains on the doors. Painted red. Guards outside.

We shall be safe, dilly, dilly, out of harm’s way.

She was going mad.

Last time, Daryl had saved them. He had told her that he’d bribed the guards to leave their posts, but Brina suspected he had killed them. She hadn’t ever asked him, and certainly hadn’t blamed him. It was the only way they could have gotten out as anything other than corpses. The plague had already taken Mother, Father, the maid, and finally little baby Angelica, who had died in Brina’s arms. Daryl had done what he’d needed to do. He always had.

Brina stood and started toward the door, stumbling when her head spun from the abrupt movement. She touched the cold doorknob, twisted it, and yanked so hard that she nearly fell when it opened. She hadn’t expected it to.

Once it had, she wasn’t sure what to do. People were shouting, coughing, and crying all around her.

She took a step forward and spied a familiar figure down the hall, but stopped when she realized he had tears on his pale face. Her witch. What was his name?

He turned and saw her. Relief and shock battled on his face as he hurried to her side, reaching out to her. She dove into his arms, remembering how comforting they had been last time he had held her. This time, though, his breath was fast and his heart was pounding.

“B-Brina,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I never meant to have you wake up alone, but I didn’t ever imagine this.…” He trailed off, and then said, “You shouldn’t be exposed to this.”

“Exposed?” Brina echoed, aware that her voice was shrill as she lifted her head.

Jay touched her face, lifting her chin so she was looking directly at him. “You’re hungry,” he said. “I’ll get you something to eat, and then we’ll figure out what—”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m a child!” Brina shouted, loud enough that she startled even herself as she shoved against his chest. He was as bad as Kaleo. “I am not an