Tranquility swelled within me, and I breathed deeply and opened my eyes. Oliver and Elena stared, eyes wide and brows raised. Oliver gaped at me, uncertainty flickering across his expression as if he feared for my sanity.
“She’s lost her mind,” Elena whispered.
I dropped my foot and looked at Manuel. “Better?”
Manuel nodded, his eyes still closed.
“Here.” Oliver approached him and, with his uninjured arm, lifted a hand to Manuel’s forehead. His fingers glowed blue, and water dripped from his palm as he pressed it to Manuel’s temple.
“Ah,” Manuel sighed with relief. “Thank you, Oliver.”
So Oliver’s an Elemental, I thought to myself, struggling to keep track. Then something else tugged at my mind. “Hang on,” I said, raising a hand. “How did that demon hit you with water?”
Oliver looked at me, his green eyes confused. “Do demons not have powers in your time?”
“No, they do. Well, some of them. Just not our powers. Not witch and warlock powers. So how did that demon have the powers of an Elemental?”
Oliver glanced at Elena, who chewed at the inside of her lip and stared at the ground, her expression far away. “He’s not the only one we’ve seen like that. Demons are becoming more powerful. It’s why we can’t stop them. Not only are they multiplying, but they’re strengthening as well, and we don’t know how.”
“Is it possible they’re, I don’t know, siphoning powers from people?” I gestured to the blood on the ground. “Like, maybe this warlock was an Elemental.”
Oliver rubbed his chin, his expression thoughtful. “That’s a good theory. There are plenty of dark magic rituals we don’t know about because only demons use them. Perhaps one of them can draw from another person’s magic.”
Manuel shook his head. “Our magic flows through our blood constantly. If the demons are siphoning powers, it won’t last very long for them. The magical blood will flush out of their system eventually.”
Elena dropped her hands by her side. “We can discuss this later. We need to find another trail.” Her fiery gaze drilled into me. “Let’s split up.”
Away from me, I inferred.
“That’s not a good idea,” Manuel said.
“I’m not hunting with her,” Elena hissed.
I shrugged, trying to brush it off. “That’s fine with me.”
“Desi, you go with Manuel,” Elena said.
I was about to agree with this when Manuel spoke up, his voice still weak.
“I can’t protect her, Elena,” he said. “She needs a fighter.”
Elena glowered with dismay, and Oliver raised a hand.
“I’ll go with her.”
Elena looked, if possible, more upset by this solution. She pressed her lips together, hatred burning in her eyes as if Oliver’s suggestion had been my fault.
“Fine,” she muttered. “Send a signal if you find something. If we don’t hear from you in an hour, we’ll send someone after you.” She glanced at Oliver, her eyes softening. Her fingers brushed his shoulder. “Be safe.”
Oliver shrugged casually. “Of course.” His gaze fixed on me as Elena and Manuel strode out of the alley. Elena glanced at Oliver once more before leaving, but he didn’t notice.
Oliver politely extended his hand in the opposite direction as if he were inviting me into the drawing room instead of on a path toward demons.
I smiled politely. “Such a gentleman.”
“I certainly hope so. Are there no gentlemen in your time?”
My thoughts turned to José, and my heart stuttered in surprise. Lilith, I haven’t thought about him all day. I was pretty sure he’d never once held the door open for me. “No. Sadly, that died a long time ago.”
“The gentlemen? Or being gentlemanly?”
My lips curved upward in a smirk. “Both.”
Oliver dropped his hand. “What a shame.” He strode forward purposefully and glanced around the corner before leading the way out of the alley.
We walked in silence for several minutes, occasionally pausing while Oliver inspected some dirt or debris. A chill tickled my arms, and I rubbed them fiercely. I couldn’t shake the feeling of that awful shapeshifter’s hand grabbing my skin.
“You shouldn’t take it personally,” Oliver said.
My head snapped toward him. “What?”
“Elena.”
“Oh. I don’t,” I lied, wiping away sweat from under my eyes.
Oliver snorted like he could see right through me. “She’s grieving, and she’s taking it out on everyone else. She just lost her brother, Pablo.”
Ice hardened in my chest, and regret slithered in my stomach. I swallowed and dropped my arms, staring intently at the ground as we walked. “What happened?” I whispered.
“He gave himself up.”
I waited for more, but Oliver remained silent. I raised my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
Oliver glanced at me curiously. “The strongest form of light magic?”
I shook my head.
“Lilith, are you even a witch?”
I elbowed him. “Shut up.”
Oliver chuckled, the creases around his eyes crinkling. “The strongest form of light magic is self-sacrifice. It is the epitome of light magic, whereas sacrifice for one’s self is the epitome of dark magic.”
“Like that blood ritual.”
“Yes.”
“So if it’s the strongest form of light magic, how was Pablo killed?”
“Well, you can’t have it both ways. If you give yourself up, you produce the magic, but you . . . well, you still give yourself up.”
“Every time? There’s no way someone can survive it?”
Oliver frowned in contemplation. “Well, not necessarily. It’s the sacrifice that provides the power, not the death. So for example, if someone became enslaved by another, and a warlock stepped in and took their place, that could also provide magic.” He winced. “Not a great alternative, though. And it doesn’t happen very often.”
Warmth tickled behind my eyes, and heat rose in my throat. “Pablo did it to save Elena, didn’t he? She feels guilty.” I recognized her hatred. I’d carried it with me for so long too. Perhaps it was still there.
Oliver frowned, looking at me in surprise. His eyebrows pulled together. “Yes. How did you know?”
I coughed. “Just a guess. Lashing out at others when she wants to
