“You know the words?” asked Ms. Terwilliger.
I nodded and knelt down by the cat. I’d memorized the spell throughout our work time today. “Anything I should know before this happens?”
“Just remember to look at the cat once the spell is cast,” Ms. Terwilliger said.
I glanced at the others one last time. “See you soon, I guess.”
“Good luck,” said Neil.
Adrian met my eyes for a long moment, saying nothing aloud yet somehow conveying a million messages. I felt a lump form in my throat as that earlier sentiment returned. We’d fought so hard to get here, and here I was, walking away. Not walking away, I told myself. Going to save Jill. What Adrian and I had talked about earlier was true. We loved each other but weren’t so selfish about our love that we could simply turn our backs on someone we cared about.
I gave him a small smile and then drank the potion. It had a faintly peppery taste, not entirely unpleasant but also not something I’d really drink for fun. When the cup was empty, I set it aside and then focused on the mirror—particularly the cat’s reflection beside mine. Mr. Bojangles was still sitting contentedly, and I assumed Ms. Terwilliger had picked this particular cat for his good nature. I called upon the magic within me, tuning out the rest of the world and focusing only on the spell at hand. I spoke the Latin words, still gazing at the cat. Aside from the physical labor involved, the spell required a fair amount of personal strength, and when I finished speaking, I felt exhausted as the magic surged through me and went to work.
My eyes were on the cat, but slowly, my vision of him changed. In fact, my eyesight changed completely. The cat’s orange color muted to gray in my vision while the pattern on his coat suddenly sharpened. I noticed more nuance and detail in the tabby pattern than I had before. Meanwhile, everything looked incredibly bright, as though the lights had been turned up. I blinked a few times to try to clear up that sensation and noticed I was getting closer and closer to the ground. Something fell over my face, obscuring my sight, and I wiggled out from under it. It was my shirt. Looking back at the mirror, I found myself regarding the reflections of two cats.
One of them was me.
“Well, I’ll be damned.”
I didn’t recognize the voice as Adrian’s right away. I was still human enough to understand language, but my new ears processed sounds in an entirely different way. In particular, I heard more of them, and ordinary noises from before seemed louder. I had little time to ponder this as two hands suddenly scooped me up and pushed me into the cat carrier. The door shut.
“We don’t want to get them mixed up,” Ms. Terwilliger said.
“Where are you going to put the other one?” asked Daniella.
“Wherever you like,” said Ms. Terwilliger. “I can’t take him with me. The guards saw me come in with one cat. They’ll see me leave with one.”
“What?” My mother-in-law’s voice came out extra shrill to my ears. “That creature’s staying?” It figured. Her daughter-in-law transforming into an animal? No problem. Having to take care of a cat? Crisis.
“I’ll pick you guys up a litter box and some cat food,” said Neil helpfully.
Through the metal grating on my carrier door, Adrian’s face suddenly appeared, peering in at me. “What’s new, pussycat? You okay in there?”
Out of habit, I tried to answer, but all that came out was a half meow.
The world suddenly whirled around me as the carrier lifted in the air, forcing me to scramble to keep my balance with both feet and senses that were foreign. “No time for chitchat,” said Ms. Terwilliger. “We need to move.”
Adrian must have followed her because his face appeared again through the door. “Be careful, Sage. I love you.”
Ms. Terwilliger and Eddie made their farewells and headed out the door. We walked through the building and then outside. I knew from an earlier clock that it was still nighttime, but the world I was able to see through the gaps in the carrier looked wholly different from what I was used to. The scattered lampposts more than lit up the darkness to my enhanced vision, and even if I didn’t see a full range of colors, I could see much farther than my human eyes ever could have. We had at least an hour on the spell’s longevity, but my companions kept up a good pace, walking briskly through the Court’s grounds to visitor parking.
There, Ms. Terwilliger reclaimed the rental car she’d driven in and set my carrier in the backseat. It gave me a poor view of our surroundings but still allowed me to hear everything. At the main gate, guardians interrogated Ms. Terwilliger about her visit, wanting to know why Eddie was with her.
“I’m currently on leave,” he responded in a way that was brisk but not defensive. “I’ve got personal matters to take care of, and she offered me a ride.”
“I know the roads outside your Court aren’t always friendly in the dark,” Ms. Terwilliger added. “So I don’t mind the company.”
“Wait, and the sun’ll be up in less than an hour,” said the guardian.
“No time,” she replied. “I have a flight to catch.”
As Adrian had predicted, the guardians searched the car thoroughly, and I heard one of them whisper to the other, “Make sure there are no stowaways.”
My anxiety rose, and I found myself experiencing the strange sensation of whipping my tail back and forth.
A dhampir face appeared before me, and he made some clicking sounds. “Hey, kitty, kitty.”
I made no response, afraid it might come out as a hiss.
The guardians finally cleared us, and like that, we were on the road, free of the place that had been both a sanctuary and prison for the last month. Ms. Terwilliger drove us another half hour to put distance between us and Court, and then pulled the car off on the shoulder of a rural highway. Once parked, she opened up the carrier so that I could come out onto the backseat, and she set a pile of clothes beside me. Beyond her, I could barely discern the sky lightening.
“There you go,” she said, moving back to the front seat. “I should probably have told you before . . . it’s a lot easier going into this spell than it is coming out of it.”
CHAPTER 3
ADRIAN
MINUTES FELT LIKE HOURS AFTER SYDNEY’S DEPARTURE. I paced the length of our small suite, a knot in my chest, as I braced myself for the worst. Any second now, I feared, I would get word that the plan had gone awry and guardians had intercepted Sydney trying to escape Court.
“Darling, must you do that?” my mother asked at last. “You’re agitating the animals.”
I paused and glanced down to where Mr. Bojangles was keeping a wary eye on Hopper—the small, enchanted dragon that Sydney had summoned earlier this year. Hopper had become a pet of sorts and was regarding the cat with an excitement that clearly wasn’t reciprocated.
“I don’t think it’s me, Mom. They’re just—”
A chime from my phone interrupted me, and I dove for it, startling both cat and dragon. On my phone’s display, a text message from Eddie was clear and succinct: Made it out of Court. All is well.
I texted back: Am I still married to a cat?
Yes, came the response, followed a moment later by: But Ms. T swears it’s temporary.
Some of my anxiety lessened, but not all. I wrote: Let me know when she’s back.
Twenty minutes later, a new message came in, this one from Sydney herself: Back in human form. Everything seems to be normal.
Everything? I questioned.
Well, aside from a weird urge to chase laser pointers, she responded.
If that’s the worst effect, I’ll take it. Keep me posted. I love you.
I meow you too, she wrote back. It was promptly corrected with: I mean, I love you.
I smiled as I put the phone away but found I was still a long way from feeling as though all was right in the world. I couldn’t shake the feeling that th
ings weren’t entirely settled between Sydney and me, and that wasn’t even taking into consideration the physical threats she now faced. She’d made it outside of Court . . . but was now potentially facing all the same dangers that had driven us to seek sanctuary here.
Only if they know she’s out, Aunt Tatiana’s voice reminded me, in a rare moment of legitimate helpfulness. As long as no one’s looking for her—and she doesn’t get discovered—she’ll be safe. So don’t blow it.
Right, I agreed. And no one will have any reason to think she’s not here. She never leaves our suite, and we don’t really have that many visitors.
Later that day, of course, we had a visitor.
Thankfully, it wasn’t a regiment of guardians demanding to know Sydney’s whereabouts. Instead, I found Sonya Karp Tanner standing outside our door, smiling when she saw me. Whatever relief I found at seeing her was quashed by an anxious Aunt Tatiana.
Don’t let your guard down at any cost! she hissed.
Sonya’s our friend, I silently replied.
Aunt Tatiana disagreed. It doesn’t matter. No one can know Sydney’s gone, no matter how friendly you think they are. All it takes is one little slip, no matter how good the intention. The fewer the people who know a secret, the better.
With a pang, I realized she was right. Meanwhile, Sonya’s congenial expression had turned puzzled as I conducted my mental conversation with a phantom.
“Are you okay, Adrian?” asked Sonya.
“Fine, fine,” I said, beckoning her in. “Just tired. I had kind of a rough morning.” I gestured vaguely at my face, which still bore the signs of scuffling with Wesley and his crew.
As I’d hoped, Sonya was effectively deflected. Concern lit her features. “What happened?”
“Oh, the usual. Just some idiots jealous of me being married to the hottest human around.”
“Where is she?” asked Sonya, glancing around the empty suite. “And your mother?”
“Mom went to bed,” I replied. “And Sydney . . . she’s out for a walk.”
Sonya’s sharp eyes focused back on me. “She’s out after you were attacked this morning?”
“Well, it’s daylight out, so there’s less of a threat. And . . . Neil’s with her.” I nearly said Eddie but wasn’t sure if Sonya might have heard about him leaving Court. Knowing my luck now, Neil would stop by unannounced and ruin the story. “She needed some air,” I added, seeing Sonya’s skeptical look. “Staying cooped up inside is really getting to her.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie.
Sonya held my gaze a few more moments before finally deciding to let the topic go. She could probably tell from my aura and body language that I wasn’t being entirely honest, but it was unlikely she could guess the truth—that Sydney had transformed into a cat and been smuggled out of Court in a far-fetched attempt to find Jill.
“Well, it’s you I came to see,” Sonya said at last. “I need to discuss something with you. Or rather—someone.”
I sat down at our kitchen table and nodded for her to do the same. Discuss someone? I could do that, as long as it wasn’t Sydney. “Who do you have in mind?” I asked.
Sonya laced her fingers together and took a deep breath. “Nina Sinclair.”
I winced. Perhaps not as problematic as Sydney right now, but Nina was by no means a welcome topic. She was a spirit user, like me, one I’d been pretty good friends with while Sydney had been in captivity. Unfortunately, Nina had wanted to be much better friends and had been reading more into our relationship than there was. She’d taken my rejection badly—and had responded even worse when she found out I’d married a human. On the rare times I’d passed her since returning to Court, I was constantly reminded of the old “if looks could kill” adage.
“What about Nina?” I asked carefully. “Is she still working for you?”
Sonya was the leader on a project attempting to use spirit to prevent people from turning Strigoi. Nina had inadvertently helped with this initially when she’d restored her sister, Olive, from being a Strigoi. With several of us working together, we’d managed to transfer that spirit magic to Neil’s blood, effectively creating a vaccine that protected Neil from ever being forcibly turned. Sonya’s victory had been short-lived, however, as she was unable to replicate that effect in anyone else. But she was still tirelessly working toward that goal.
“Technically, yes, but it’s been a while since she truly offered anything of value.” Sonya’s expression darkened. “Nina’s been a little . . . off lately.”
I couldn’t help a small laugh at that. “We’re spirit users. We’re all a little off.”
Sonya didn’t return my smile. “Not like this. If you could see her . . . well, you’d understand. I sent her home yesterday because she wasn’t making any sense. She also looked as though she hadn’t slept in weeks. The only spirit user I’ve seen in such bad shape was . . . well, the time I interviewed Avery Lazar.”
That drew me up short. Avery, another spirit user, was currently in the mental facility of a Moroi prison. “Avery used ridiculous amounts of spirit,” I reminded her. “I mean, ridiculous. And on a regular basis.” Bringing back Jill had taken its toll on me, temporarily draining me of spirit, but it had been a one-time thing. Avery had attempted a number of high-power feats, over and over, landing her in her current state when her mind finally couldn’t take any more. “Nina would have to be doing some pretty serious magic to end up like that.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” said Sonya grimly.
I gasped, thinking of Avery. “That she’s trying to acquire shadow-kissed bondmates?”
“No, not that . . . but something that takes almost as much power and is being done on a regular basis. Whenever I try to get an answer out of her, she evades me or just starts babbling nonsense.” Sonya sighed. “I’m worried about her, Adrian. She needs help, but she won’t talk to me.”
As the pointed silence grew, I suddenly caught on to what Sonya was getting at. “What? You think she’ll talk to me?”
Sonya shrugged. “I don’t know who else to ask.”
“Well, not me!” I exclaimed. “She was furious when I turned her down. If she’s got something going on and needs help, I’m not the one she’s going to turn to. You need to ask someone else.”
“There is no one else! Her sister’s still missing. And did you know Nina quit her office job? Or . . . actually, I think she was fired, but it’s hard to get a straight answer out of her. As far as I know, you and I are the only ones around who care about what she’s doing to herself—and we need to step up and help her.”
“She won’t talk to me,” I reiterated.
Sonya raked a hand through her dark red hair. “You might be surprised. Even though things . . . fell out . . . between you, she clearly still felt as though there was some connection. Please, Adrian. Please just try. If she sends you away, fine. So be it. I won’t ask you again.”
I started to say no once more, but a closer look at Sonya stopped me. She truly was agitated by this. It was in her voice and eyes . . . even in the colors of her aura. I knew Sonya wasn’t the type to overreact. I also knew she wouldn’t ask this of me if she wasn’t truly concerned, especially since she was the one who’d advised me to stay away from Nina to protect her feelings.
I glanced at the time. It was growing late by our standards. Most Moroi would be going to bed. “Okay if I wait to see her until tomorrow?”
Sonya considered and then gave a small nod. “I’m sure that’ll be fine. Of course, I’m also sure she probably won’t be asleep anytime soon. But it may be best if you wait for Sydney to get back before leaving, so that Neil can accompany you.”
For a moment, I nearly said that Eddie was with Sydney, not Neil, and then I remembered the cover story. I’d have to get in touch with Neil to make sure he backed up what I said. If I wasn’t careful, things could get very complica
ted very quickly. It was what I hated most about lying: It rarely stayed simple.
“Sounds good,” I said, standing as Sonya did. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Thank you. I know this isn’t—” She bit her words off as Mr. Bojangles came tearing through the room, with Hopper in hot pursuit. Sonya turned to me, startled. “When did you get a cat?”
“Uh, today, actually. Jackie Terwilliger—Sydney’s old teacher?—left it when she visited.”
That was obviously news to Sonya. “She was here? At Court? How long did she stay?”
“Not long,” I said, immediately wishing I hadn’t mentioned it at all. “Just checking up on Sydney.”
“That’s a lot of effort just to check up on someone. A phone call would’ve been simpler.”
I hoped I looked guileless. “Yeah, but then she wouldn’t have been able to give us the cat. Belated wedding gift.”
“Adrian,” said Sonya, using the voice she must have used to chastise countless students when she was a high school biology teacher, “what aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing, nothing,” I said, steering her to the door. “Relax, we’re all fine. The only thing you need to worry about is how fast Nina’s going to send me packing.”
“Adrian—”
“Everything’s fine,” I said cheerily. I opened the door for her. “Thanks for stopping by. Say hi to Mikhail for me.”
It was clear from her expression that I’d completely failed in convincing her of my innocence, but at least she looked like she wasn’t going to compel me to tell her what was really going on—for now. We made our farewells, and I breathed a sigh of relief when she was gone, hoping no one else would come by and force me to fumble for another excuse about why Sydney wasn’t around.