With a soft whoomph, the basement wall collapsed. A heartbeat later, a thick cloud of dust flowed over me, cutting what little visibility there was, throwing me into a deep, dangerous darkness.
Tiny filaments of wild magic encircled my wrist, and Katie’s energy—her being—flowed into me. My senses expanded—sharpened—and while the fog of dust and smoke remained as thick as ever, I could at least see shadows now. It was enough to keep running, to avoid tripping over anything. The stairs came into view. I was almost safe…
But that thought had barely even crossed my mind when what sounded like a freight train started up behind me.
The ceiling and walls were collapsing.
I swore, grabbed the railing, and bolted up the stairs two at a time.
Faster, faster, Katie urged, panic in her tone.
I tried to obey, but my strength was slipping away and I had nothing left in the tank. It was all I could do to remain upright.
As chunks of plaster rained all around me, a figure appeared out of the gloom at the top of the stairs. Though little more than a white-covered silhouette, scent told me it was Aiden. He grabbed me—lifted me—in one smooth motion, and then raced up the remaining stairs and pounded down the hallway. A huge cloud of dust and debris chased us as, section by section, the building began to collapse.
Aiden burst into the loading bay, jumped down the stairs, and then ran into the parking area where more than two dozen people had gathered.
With a sound that vaguely resembled the groan of a dying beast, the center of the building collapsed inward, leaving only the outer walls still standing.
We were safe. Against all the odds, we were safe. The shaking started, and I blinked fiercely against the tears stinging my eyes. It wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.
Aiden put me down, then gently caught my chin with his fingertips and lifted my face. “It looks like you’ve burst a blood vessel in your eyes.”
“It was the stress of using the wild magic to prop the wall. I’ll be fine.” The sudden sharpening of sirens had me glancing around; several ambulances and an SES truck were entering the parking area. “What’s happened to Belle?”
“Roger escorted her into a secure area. After that, I don’t know.” He frowned. “Can’t you contact her?”
“No, the line between us is dead.”
“I’m sure she’s fine, Liz.”
But his words fell flat. She might be alive, but it was very doubtful that she was fine. Not if Clayton had her.
I took a deep, steadying breath. “You need to concentrate on the mess here. I’ll head back home—” I held up a hand to silence his protest. “I’m fine. I just need to make myself a potion and grab some rest.”
“At least have your eyes looked at—”
“They can’t do anything for an eye bleed like this, Aiden. The only thing that can heal it is time.” I rose on my toes and brushed a kiss across his lips. “Do what you have to here, and don’t worry about me.”
He lightly cupped my cheek, his touch warm and his gaze worried. “Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
“I won’t.”
Which didn’t mean I wouldn’t do anything at all, and he was well aware of that. He shook his head, kissed me lightly, and then let me go.
I walked past the ambulances and SES vehicles, my head pounding in time with my footsteps and my body feeling like it had been run over by a truck. Which in many respects, it had—one driven by the wild magic.
The café’s door remained wide open. I stepped in, and then realized the place wasn’t empty.
And the person standing in the middle of the café was the one person I really didn’t want to confront right now.
Maelle.
She was deeply, furiously angry.
Even worse than her anger were the lightning-like cracks of her magic. Dark magic. It struck at my skin and, for a second or two, seemed to freeze my pulse and my heart. But there was no snapback from the magic protecting this place, so no matter what it felt like, neither the magic nor her anger was aimed specifically at me.
Which didn’t make me feel any safer.
I drew in a deep, steadying breath, then turned to face her. Her chestnut hair—usually swept up onto the top of her head—was in disarray, covered in plaster dust and ash. Her face was black and her clothes—what looked to be a deep red riding habit from the Regency era—were all but shredded, revealing multiple cuts and suggesting her escape had not come lightly.
But it was her gaze that held me—scared me. Her eyes were usually a gray so pale there was only the slightest variation between her irises and the white. But here—now—they were black. All black. Ghoulish black.
She might not currently mean me harm but it wouldn’t take much to change that. One show of weakness and that would be the end of it. The end of me.
Like I needed another fucking problem right now.
I gripped the anger that rose with that thought and stepped closer. She’d hear my pulse and know the truth, but I nevertheless had to outwardly remain strong.
For Belle’s sake, if not my own.
“How the hell did Clayton get into Émigré, Maelle, let alone cause such damage? You had a multitude of magics protecting the place.”
“He didn’t set the bomb. I believe a woman did.”
Her voice was calm and collected, at total odds with the fierceness of her eyes and the utter darkness
