21

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH HIM?” LOTTIE was quick to jump out of her seat when the nurse finally emerged from Jamie’s room.

She hadn’t slept all night, the storm continuing to pound relentlessly against the windows like a beast trying to break in, only clearing as the sun began to rise. Beside her, leaning against the wall, was Sayuri, still and calm as the statue of Kou Fujiwara, while she translated the nurse’s report.

“He has a cracked rib, sprained wrist and ankle, and a serious bout of flu delirium, but he will be fine. He had a bad fall.”

“Thank you,” Lottie replied. “Can we see him?”

The nurse shook her head. “Not yet.”

Jamie had fallen somehow from somewhere high—that much was clear. He was hurt badly, and worst of all he’d met the Master of Leviathan. All things that would never have happened if she hadn’t been so preoccupied.

“Arigato gozaimasu,” Sayuri added, bowing to the nurse.

It seemed impossible that they’d been in the same storm; Sayuri’s hair had dried in pretty clumps of silky waves, and her skin, though flushed, was still feather soft even after their lack of sleep, while Lottie was a mess, blistered cheeks, still caked in mud all the way up her legs, hair frozen in place like a windswept tangle of yarn. She caught a glimpse of herself in the window and was disturbed to find she could hardly recognize herself.

Getting Jamie to the school’s infirmary had felt like an impossible task. They’d carried him together, Sayuri holding one arm and Lottie the other, the two of them battling the storm as one unstoppable force. And Sayuri was strong, stronger than Lottie could ever have anticipated. It was the strength of a leader. The strength of the Pink Demon.

It had been the strangest thing to see the look on her face when she’d found them.

“That’s a very good Partizan you have . . .”

The words played over and over in Lottie’s head, and the more she thought about it, the more she was sure there’d been a hint of regret, an edge that had Lottie wondering once more about the queen of the school, her family, what she wanted, and why she’d had to become so strong.

“You should go and tell your friends,” Sayuri said. “They’ll be waking up soon, and I’m sure they’ll want to hear that your Partizan has returned. I’ll keep watch here.”

Lottie sensed that she shouldn’t leave, an absurd thought that Jamie would be snatched away from her again, but she swallowed it down, knowing she did need to tell the others.

“I wanted to say, Banshee, if they change their minds . . . If you wanted to extend a hand . . . We could make a good team. Whatever Leviathan are doing here, I want to help stop them.”

“That will not be necessary,” Sayuri replied bluntly, turning away.

“You must have more info, something we might be able to decipher—”

“As a matter of fact”—Sayuri turned back sharply—“we do, but we will not be sharing it with you. We’d rather you all just stay out of trouble.”

The words felt like a door being shut in her face. Lottie couldn’t understand why Sayuri didn’t want to work with them. They needed to find the Master of Leviathan, and to do that they needed all the information they could get.

Lottie tried to pull herself back together. “Well. Thanks anyway, for everything. I mean it.”

She heard Sayuri’s voice behind her, cold and final. “Don’t mention it.”

The storm had cooled the earth, a welcome chill that would soon evaporate under the heat of the sun, but Lottie was going to relish it for as long as she could. Anastacia, Saskia, and Ellie had convened outside the infirmary, leaning over the decking of the pond and watching the fish, distracted and sobered by everything that had happened last night.

“This is all my fault.” Ellie sank low. “I need to . . .” Her words vanished into nothing behind a black curtain of hair. It hurt to see all the work Lottie had put into persuading Ellie not to blame herself crumbling away again, but right now they needed to think about Jamie.

“There’s more,” Lottie added hesitantly, her eyes flicking to Saskia. “When Jamie was delirious he said something.” She took a deep breath. “He said he met the Master of Leviathan.”

“He met him?” Saskia’s eyes lit up like a fire had been ignited inside her skull, and she nearly knocked over Anastacia to grab Lottie by the shoulders.

“Saskia!” Anastacia cried.

“Did he see his face? Did he mention me? Did he touch him?” Her fingers were trembling, a ghost inside her that she’d buried deep itching to get out. “What did he say, Lottie?”

Ellie tried to pull Lottie back, both of them nervous seeing Saskia switch so suddenly. They’d heard the stories, the way she behaved when they tried to ask her about the Master, but they’d never seen it firsthand. It was awful.

Lottie couldn’t help wondering what that man had done to these people—and what he would do to her or Jamie if he got the chance. The only thing she could cling to was that at least Ellie was safe, as long as she stayed a good Portman. She needed to stop getting caught up in personal stuff; there was too much at stake. Right now, if they were going to solve this and help Jamie, they needed to deal with Saskia first. It was time to start fighting back.

“Who was with him? Was it Ingrid?” Her fingers tightened on Lottie’s shoulders. “She’s such a little sycophant!”

Lottie didn’t flinch. “Saskia . . .” She spoke calmly, grabbing the Partizan’s wrist. “You are not with Leviathan anymore.”

“I know, I just—”

“Saskia.” She grabbed her other wrist and carefully removed her hands. “That man never cared about you. He was only using you. But we care about you, Saskia. We don’t care how useful or strong you are; we like you for you. That’s never going to change.”

“I don’t want to disappoint—”

“No, Saskia.” These were the words everyone needed to hear. “We love you, Saskia, no matter what.”

Lottie scooped her up in an embrace, and the Partizan melted into it, her warm honey scent mingling with Lottie’s rose scent. Every muscle melded against her, a map of Saskia’s powerful Partizan body. A body that reminded her of Jamie.

“Okay, you can get off me now,” Saskia mumbled, but Lottie could hear a lingering crack of emotion, even if she wouldn’t show it. The Partizan pulled away. “We should go and check if you’re allowed to see Jamie yet,” she added, uncharacteristically bashful.

The sun was full and plump in the sky now, beating down on Saskia and turning her into a golden statue. Lottie caught sight of Ellie again. She looked twisted in an unnatural way like rotten tree roots.

“Thanks, Lottie,” Anastacia whispered.

Lottie smiled over at her, but again all she could think was that it wasn’t enough, that she needed to help Jamie and Ellie before it was too late.

They made their way into the infirmary, the scent of lemons becoming more intense with each step down the corridor to Jamie’s room, where Sayuri was waiting, only her face was strained, her mask of patience slipping just enough for Lottie to notice.

“Sayuri, what’s wrong?” Lottie asked as she approached Jamie’s door, which was slid open. From beyond it voices drifted out. Voices she recognized.

She rushed so fast that she nearly slammed into the doorframe. And there he was, propped up, half awake, his still-foggy gaze illuminated by the stripes of sunlight through the blinds. She wanted to run to him and throw her arms around his injured body, but there was no hope of that. Beside him was a sneaking bird of prey, waiting like a vulture to retrieve its pickings.

Haru was back.