46

I landed back in that little room with the door that led to the killers’ hell. Trsiel was there waiting for me. I knew he’d been worried, and he’d want to know what had happened, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. I brushed past him with a murmured “I got it.” He tried to follow, telling me I needed healing, but I hurried down the hall to another room. When I opened the door, Kristof was there, right where I’d left him.

For a moment, I just stood in the doorway, legs trembling, ready to give way under me. Kristof crossed the room in two long strides, scooped me up, and gave me a fierce hug. Then he closed the door behind us, carried me across the room, and lowered me to the floor.

I huddled there against him, shivering, unable to speak. I wished I could have strode through that door and shouted a triumphant “I did it,” forgetting everything that had happened. But I couldn’t. And this was the one place where I knew I wouldn’t have to, the one person who wouldn’t think any the less of me for sitting here, shivering, a heartbeat away from breaking down and bawling like a baby.

Kristof took my left hand and traced his thumb around the stab wound through my palm. His lips moved. I strained to hear what he was saying, then picked up a few words of Greek and recognized a minor healing incantation. A witch spell, one of the few he knew. I’d taught it to him when we’d been together, a little something for his boys, to make the cuts and bruises of childhood easier. He’d struggled with the spell, but had insisted on perfecting it, practicing more than he ever would for any spell of true power.

When he finished, he glanced up at me sheepishly. “Guess you need something stronger than that.”

My eyes filled. “No, that was perfect. Thank you.”

I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his, closing my eyes as the warmth of his skin chased away the last niggling bits of cold from that place. I put my hands to his cheeks as I kissed him and the heat radiated through, as soothing as Trsiel’s healing touch, maybe more.

He wrapped his hands in my hair and kissed me back, and I tasted my own fear mingling with his, knew how worried, how frightened he’d been for me. How many times in my life would I have given anything for this, to come home after something awful and have someone there waiting for me. To have Kris there.

“I need to finish this,” I said, pulling back to look up at Kristof. “I put Savannah in danger, and I need to get her out of it. But after that, it has to stop. This one last thing, and it’s over. I’ll let her go.”

His arms tightened around me and he pulled me to him. “You don’t have to let her go, Eve. You just need to step back, trust that she’ll be okay, and look after yourself.”

“I know.”

We sat there for another couple of minutes. Then it was time to let him know what I’d found, and figure out what to do about it.

Before I began, Kristof decided we should called Trsiel in. Trsiel insisted on healing me before we got to work. Any pain from my injuries was gone. The hair would grow back. The missing tooth wouldn’t. As for the ear and other open wounds, he could close them, but warned me they’d likely scar, a reminder of the price I’d nearly paid to stop this Nix.

As I finished telling them how Dachev had captured the Nix, Kristof paced the tiny room.

He shook his head. “I had hoped that when this Dachev caught the Nix, he’d both initiated and carried out the capture, but it’s now obvious that he only took advantage of a preexisting circumstance.”

“One that’s going to be damned difficult to replicate,” I said. “We’re in the same position as Dachev. Pretty much impotent when it comes to killing anyone in the living world. But that’s exactly what we need to do.” I glanced over at Trsiel. “Not kill Jaime—just deliver a mortal blow and resuscitate her. The question is, how?”

Trsiel gave a slow shake of his head. “It doesn’t solve the original problem. Delivering a mortal blow—”

“And resuscitating. We’re going to find a situation where she has a damned good chance of being resuscitated.”

“A damned good chance isn’t good enough, Eve. No matter how carefully you set it up, there’s no possible way to guarantee that she would survive.”

Kristof wheeled on him. “What the hell do you want from us?”

Trsiel stepped back, blinking. “I’m not—”

“You’re not doing a damned thing, Trsiel. That’s the problem. Eve just went to hell and back to get you this information. Now you’re telling her that it was for nothing?”

“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that if there’s another way—”

“There are other ways,” I said. “Of course there are. But none that stand a better chance of us catching the Nix without killing Jaime.”

“You don’t need to convince me, Eve,” Trsiel said. “I get it. I really do. I’m not telling you that I disagree. But the fact remains that Jaime is an innocent, and therefore, no angel’s sword can strike that fatal blow.”

“But Eve isn’t an angel,” Kristof said.

Trsiel threw up his hands. “Which is why she can’t even use the sword to touch Jaime. And if she can’t touch her, or cast magic on her, she can no more attempt to kill her than I can.”

“Do you still have Dantalian’s Amulet?” Kristof asked.

“The soul-transference one? Yes, but it only works on—” Trsiel stopped and looked at me. “Someone with demon blood.”

Two days ago, I’d have jumped at this chance. It was everything I’d wanted, everything I’d dreamed of. But now, after I’d come to a decision about moving forward with my life, about breaking away from Savannah …?

I looked at Kris, and I knew it wasn’t a matter of whether I should risk it. You don’t test your swim strokes by sticking to the shallow end. Kristof studied me for a long minute, then scooped me out of the deep end … and plunked me down into the center of the shark-infested ocean.

“She should transfer into Paige,” Kris said.

“Oh, hold on,” Trsiel said. “That’s not—”

“It has to be Paige,” Kris continued. “She’s right there, on the scene. She can get next to the Nix easily, without arousing suspicion. She’s a witch, which means Eve should be able to use her own spell-casting skills through her. And Eve knows Paige. Knows her well enough that she should be able to, temporarily, fool Savannah and Lucas.” Kris’s eyes met mine. “Because that’s what she’ll have to do. She can’t tell them what’s going on.”

I swallowed, then nodded. “Or I triple the chance that one of us will screw up, and the Nix will know something’s wrong. So I can’t … I can’t reveal myself to Savannah.”

“Are you going to be able to do that, Eve?” Trsiel asked softly.

I lifted my chin and looked at him. “If it means saving her from spending her life thinking she killed Paige and Lucas? Absolutely.”

Next we had to discuss a more detailed plan of action. As for the “killing Jaime and bringing her back to life” part, we were leaving that for now, knowing it was better to let me suss out the situation first, and build a plan of action on the fly rather than preplot when I didn’t yet know all the variables involved.

Instead, we discussed what could go wrong and backup plans. Although I knew CPR—having learned it when Savannah was young—I’d never had any opportunity to use it. Not that I’d never seen anyone in need of it, but, well, let’s just say I never felt inclined to reverse the process. I could try CPR with Jaime, but I’d also make sure that Lucas was close enough to help. As for whether Lucas knew CPR, that was a given. CPR, first aid, Heimlich maneuver—this was a guy who’d know it all. Saving people was his business.

It was far from a complete plan, but before we went a step further, we needed to subject it to the acid test.

“That might work,” the middle Fate said slowly.

“Might?”

“There are many variables to consider, Eve, not the least of which is the danger posed to Jaime’s life.”

“We—”

“You will take every precaution to avoid endangering her. Yes, I know that, and I believe that you will carry through with that intent. Given the danger the Nix poses to the living world, we have agreed that some slight risk to Jaime, however repugnant to us, is unavoidable. Even if you do nothing, and the Nix attacks Lucas and Paige, Jaime’s life would still be in danger, assuming they would fight back.”

“Good, so I can—”

“The other concern is that Trsiel may not be able to capture her.”

Trsiel stepped forward, eyes blazing. “I’m perfectly capable of doing that. I’ll be there, waiting, the whole time she’s on the other side.”

“I’m not questioning your competence, Trsiel,” the Fate said. “However, consider the circumstances. Had the Nix entered Jaime by demonic possession, or through the spell she used with the Marquise, then I have no doubt you could capture her. But necromantic possession is different. The Nix has entered Jaime, not as a demon, but as a ghost. Once Jaime’s body dies, the Sword of Judgment should work, but while the Nix is trapped between worlds … it may not. No angel has ever been sent to retrieve a soul under those circumstances.”

“What if I was on the living side?” Trsiel said. “We could see whether the amulet works on me. I could leap into Lucas Cortez and—”

“You couldn’t pull it off,” I said. “Not in front of Paige and Savannah. You don’t know them well enough.” I looked at the Fate. “So we don’t know for certain that Trsiel can trap the Nix from this side. But we can still try, right? At worst, we’ll scare her out of Jaime—then Paige, Lucas, and Savannah will be safe, and I’ll just resume the hunt. We’d be no worse off than we were before she leapt into Jaime.”

The Fate hesitated, then gave a slow nod.

Next they transported Trsiel, Kristof, and me to Paige’s office, where she was hard at work answering e-mails. She looked like she’d be there for a while, so we teleported to the ghost-world version of her office to say our good-byes.

Trsiel promised to stay at my side after I crossed over, ready to help me end this. Then he handed me the amulet, and left Kristof and me alone.

When Trsiel was gone, Kris took the amulet from my hands and put it around my neck.

“Looks good,” he said with a wry smile. “Just don’t get used to it.”

I answered him with a kiss, my hands going to his hair, letting the silky fine strands slide through my fingers. His arms went around me, rib-crushing tight, and I pressed myself against him, getting as close as I could. After a minute, he pulled his head back.

“I trust that’s not a good-bye kiss,” he said.

“You know it isn’t. I’m coming back, and when I do, it’ll be for good. Both feet planted on this side finally.”

We kissed again. When we finished, he slid his hands to my cheeks, holding my face within kissing distance of his.

“Trsiel won’t be the only one at your side,” he said. “I won’t be able to do anything. But I’ll be there. I’ll always be there.”

“I know you will.” I squeezed his hand, then touched the amulet. “Let’s try this thing.”

There are many ways to activate an amulet. Most require an incantation, usually the one conveniently inscribed on the piece itself, as this one was. As fluent as I am in Hebrew, the first time I ran through the spell I knew it wouldn’t work. I didn’t expect it to. With a new spell, you need at least a few trial runs to get the gist and the cadence of it. By the fourth try, I knew I had it right. Yet Paige continued to click away at her computer, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Maybe I need to be closer,” I said, stepping up behind her.

“It’s only your fourth try. Now, if it were me, we’d be here all day, but even you might need a few—”

Kristof went quiet.

“A few what?” I said.

My voice had taken on a deep contralto pitch, and an accent I’d lost a decade ago. In front of me was a half-finished e-mail message.

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

As I spoke, there was an odd catch to my words, a vibration in my chest. It took a second to realize what it was, and when I did, I couldn’t stifle a laugh. I was breathing. I looked down at my hands, still resting on the keyboard, awaiting commands. I saw fingers decorated with silver rings and a white-gold wedding band. Each nail was a quarter-moon sliver, kept practical—short and unpolished.

A car started in the drive below. I jumped up and almost tripped as my knees caught the fabric of a skirt. I looked down. A casual A-line dress, beautifully tailored from soft cotton, and oh-so-feminine. I laughed again. For Paige’s third birthday, I’d bought her the cutest little pair of jean overalls … and the horror on her face had been priceless. After the party, I’d slipped the overalls from the neatly folded pile of gifts, taken them to the store, and exchanged them for a red wool coat with a fake-fur collar and matching muff, and earned myself a heartfelt hug and a grin I’d never forget.

I hurried to the window and looked down just in time to see Paige’s car pull from the driveway. I couldn’t see the driver—presumably Lucas—but when the passenger glanced back toward the house, my heart skipped—and for the first time in three years, I felt it skip.

“Hi, baby,” I whispered.

I pressed my fingertips to the cool windowpane. Savannah glanced up, attention caught by the motion or the figure in the window. She squinted up through the car window, then smiled and waved.

“Alone at last,” said a voice behind me.

Arms wrapped around my waist and swung me in the air. I twisted, right hook at the ready, then saw my attacker.

“Lucas,” I said. “What—uh—” I wriggled out of his grasp and stepped backward. “I thought you were—Good to see you.”

He arched one brow. “Good to see you, too.”

“Sorry,” I said with a tiny laugh. “You just caught me off guard. I was thinking.”

He eased back against the file cabinet. “About what?”

“Er, things. Work. Boring stuff.”

My God, I was short. Of all the things I should have been thinking at that moment, this probably ranked near the bottom, but I couldn’t help it. Lucas wasn’t any taller than I was—the real me—but he was a damned sight taller than Paige, who barely hit five foot two. The sensation of having to look up at someone was so disorienting that my brain snagged on it and wouldn’t let go. And while I was thinking this, Lucas was giving me a look that told me I had to do something—something Paige-like—fast.

I slid forward, smiled, and grabbed his hand, then leaned up against the file cabinet beside him, my side touching his.

“So,” I said … and then couldn’t think of anything to go with it.

“About that gift.”

“Gift?”

He smiled down at me. “The one you are trying very hard to pretend you’ve forgotten about.”

“Ah … that gift. The one from … your trip.”

He nodded, and I mentally high-fived myself. Lucas always brought Paige something home from his trips.

“So what is it?” I asked.

He arched a brow again, a clear “You have to ask?” and I knew I was losing ground fast.

“Now, let me see.” I grinned and stepped away, letting his hand fall. “What could it be? A fur coat? Noooo. A Lamborghini? Noooo.”

He shook his head, but didn’t smile. Okay, joking wasn’t going to get me out of this. Think harder—what would Lucas bring Paige as a gift …?

“Magic!” I said. “You brought me a, uh, a spell or a spellbook. Right?”

His brow furrowed. I knew I’d got the answer right, but I think my delivery had been a bit off. I grabbed his hand again and grinned at him.

“Okay, Cortez,” I said. “Stop goofing, and tell me what you brought me. Is it a spell? A new one? What does it do?”

He laughed, and I breathed a mental sigh of relief. Only Paige called Lucas by his last name, and her enthusiasm for new magic matched my own.

“I told you yesterday that I was picking option twelve,” he said. “But I lied.”

“You … did?” Option twelve? What the hell was option twelve and what did it have to do with a new spell?

His lips twitched in a grin that lit up his eyes and made him almost handsome. “Yes, I apologize for my dissembling, but I wished to conceal my true intentions until such time as we were able to execute them without fear of interruption.”

“English, Cortez.”

His grin grew. “I wanted to wait until we were alone. The truth is that I have come up with an option of my own.” He caught my look of confusion and laughed. “Yes, I know, my previous efforts in that regard were underwhelming, and I’ll admit that I still lack your particular brand of creativity in such matters, but I believe I may redeem myself with this one.” His eyes sparked with a wicked grin. “This time, I had help. Namely the Cinsel Büyücülük.”

“The Cinsel Büyücülük? Isn’t that a sex—” I dropped his hand and backpedaled. “Damn, Lucas. I’m so sorry. I would love to, but …” I waved at the computer screen. “My in-box is overflowing. How about a rain check?”

He gave a slow nod. “I understand.”

I smiled. “Thanks. You’re so sweet.” I turned to the computer. “How about I get a few of these done, then I’ll make us some tea and—”

A hand flew around my throat, fingers digging in so hard I gasped.

“Move and I will crush your windpipe,” Lucas murmured behind me, his voice low, tone conversational. “You have two minutes to tell me what I want to know, starting with: Where is my wife?”