Evan took my hand. “Come on, let’s catch up with the others.”

  I nodded, remaining silent. What if he’d been right all along? He didn’t want to risk losing me in the transformation and was determined to find a solution that would release me from my promise to the Witches. Why did I never listen to him? I’d asked him to trust me when I didn’t even trust myself. I had to rethink everything. I had to consider his idea. I had to trust Evan.

  Simon and Ginevra were laughing, walking along cheerfully hand in hand. How I wished I could stop time, eliminate all the evil from our lives, bring back Drake and Stella, and let everyone live happily ever after. Unfortunately, we weren’t living in a fairy tale and my destiny was more and more uncertain. All our destinies were. Yet they were still there, smiling as though our lives weren’t about to change in a few months, as though we weren’t in constant danger . . . because I wasn’t the only one who had to escape death. Every day I was more aware of how much all of them were risking their lives to save me. When would they realize I wasn’t worth it?

  “Stop torturing yourself and take a picture of me and Simon.” Ginevra tugged on my hair in an affectionate reproach and gave me my camera back.

  “Sorry, I can’t help it.”

  “Yes, you can! Enjoy the night, the hunk next to you, and your inseparable ball-breaking Sister who loves you.” Ginevra hugged me from behind, resting her cheek against mine. I loved her so much!

  “Hey, don’t forget about me,” Simon whined.

  “You stay where you are—for today you’re all mine.” She winked at him and ran to hug him as I centered them in the frame. Ginevra was radiant with her long golden hair, dazzling smile, and sparkling green eyes. She definitely looked like an ice queen.

  “Wait! I’ll take one more. Hold it . . . Perfect.”

  “Let’s go,” Evan told us. “We should find the others before the fireworks start.”

  “Just a sec,” I said, checking the pictures I’d taken of Simon and Ginevra. I smiled when I saw I’d managed to capture the light sparkling in Ginevra’s eyes. I couldn’t have been more satisfied. Clicking through the photos, I also found the ones Evan had taken of me. My colors were different from hers, but my big dark eyes stood out just as nicely against the white background, as did my cheeks, kissed by the blush only Evan could bring out in them.

  The next shot was blank. I must have taken it by accident. I was about to delete it when I remembered and the smile died on my lips. It wasn’t blank. It was the picture I’d taken of the little boy. What did it mean?

  “Gemma, what is up with you today?” Simon groaned. “Do we have to drag you behind us on a sled?”

  Meanwhile, Ginevra had already walked off. Evan squeezed me from behind and I forced myself to banish my concern. “It’s nothing. I’m a little tired, that’s all. It must be normal enough in my condition.”

  “Want me to carry you on my shoulders?” Evan joked.

  I punched his arm. “I’m not a four-year-old.”

  “So what? I can still bear your weight . . . for the time being,” he said, grinning.

  “I’ll dare you to do it when I’m a total blimp.”

  Evan laughed and held my hand. “I’ll still carry you then.”

  I smiled at him but couldn’t force down my nervousness for long. I kept thinking about the little boy.

  I let go of Evan’s hand and went back to looking at the pictures. He was right—there was no boy. Had I imagined him? Had he been another of my visions? What part of my subconscious had conjured him up? And why? Maybe it was because of my pregnancy . . . Could he be a projection of my future? Could he be my child? Who could say how far my powers might go?

  A strange instinct tingled under my skin, the same one that had gripped me earlier. While before I hadn’t wanted to give it any importance, now I was certain: it hadn’t been the sweatshirt hanging from Evan’s doorknob—I really had seen a little boy staring at me through the crack in the door.

  I heard a whimper in the distance and slowed down, pricking my ears. It was coming from behind me. I turned and my heart contracted when I glimpsed the little boy disappear around the corner. I rushed through the maze after him, afraid he would disappear again. Instead, there he was, huddled on a slab of ice, crying. Just in case he was only in my imagination, I looked around to make sure no one could see me before asking, “Hey, everything okay? Are you lost?” He continued to cry. I moved closer and leaned over him. “What’s your name? I’ll take you to your mommy. Do you know where she is?”

  “She died,” a grim voice behind me said. “Two thousand years ago.”

  I spun around and found myself facing a little boy identical to the first. There were two of them. When I turned back, his brother slowly raised his head and his eyes of ice pierced me, shattering every doubt. “Soon you’ll be dead too,” he murmured with a crafty smile.

  My heart twisted painfully in my chest. They were Subterraneans. And they were there to kill me.

  FIREWORKS

  “Evan!” I shouted. All at once a slab of ice fell from the ceiling behind the boy. I was trapped. Panicking, I tried to catch my breath, but it seemed an impossible task. Raising my hands to my throat, I crumpled to my knees.

  “Gemma!” Evan’s muffled shout reached me from outside my ice prison.

  Evan!! I tried to scream but to my horror realized I couldn’t. A drop of blood splashed onto the snow. What . . . What are you doing to me? My eyes shot to the two children as a sharp burning sensation spread through my body, making any movement impossible.

  One of them smiled with an evil look in his eye. “Resisting is pointless.” His voice didn’t sound like a child’s. It was deep, like a demon’s.

  Gwen! I shouted in my mind, I’m here! Help me! I can’t hold out much longer!

  The other boy walked slowly around me as I huddled on the ground, terrified, unable to move a muscle. “Don’t bother trying to fight.”

  I gritted my teeth, trying to resist their power, but it was no use. My heartbeat began to slow inexorably as fire set the veins throughout my body ablaze.

  Was everything truly about to end?

  “Gemma!!” The desperate shout made its way through the walls as something hot trickled from my ears. I kept my eyes locked on the little boy as the world around me grew blurry, slowly fading. He smiled as craftily as a hungry wolf. Blood leaked from my nose and a crimson droplet splashed onto the snow, staining it red. I began to lose consciousness, barely noticing when my cheek struck the white ground. The pain had made me its own, gripping me in a vise of ice. I was so tired . . .

  My eyelids blinked slowly and opened with effort. All I could think of were Evan and my baby, but their image grew ever fainter and more distant. Once they disappeared I knew I would lose them forever.

  All at once the ground beneath me trembled, sending a shock through me. I opened my eyes but couldn’t focus on anything. The cold stung my cheek. There was a burst of light and a loud noise that sounded like an explosion. The voices were close now, as though they were all around me, but there was something else: a chorus of shouts that filled the night, like a crazed crowd. A blond angel approached, hand outstretched. The children fell to their knees, powerless. Arms gently picked me up.

  “Gemma, Gemma! Hang in there, stay with me.” A hand brushed the hair from my face as a sweet warmth slowly spread through me. Evan. I struggled to focus on his face but lacked the strength. He cradled me in his arms. “We’ve got to get out of here. We’ve got to take her away!” he shouted, making my ears throb. I closed my eyes, amazed I could do it. Evan rested his forehead against mine. “You’ll be fine. I’m here with you now,” he whispered. I could sense the mix of emotions battling within him—anger, relief, and concern—while I felt as though I were enclosed in a bubble, separated from everyone else.

  Evan kissed my forehead and an explosion of colors filled the sky. Then another . . . and another, coloring my world of confusion.

  “You’re in danger. Get out of here!”

  Evan’s gaze went to the Witch who’d just arrived—Zhora.

  “You’re late,” Ginevra said.

  “I’m sorry. I came as soon as I could.”

  “How the fuck could this have happened?” Evan burst out, furious. If more Subterraneans had shown up, it meant the Witches had killed at least one of their prisoners.

  “Evan, calm down. We don’t know what happened,” said Simon.

  “This is not good,” grumbled Ginevra, who’d already read her Sister’s mind. “We have to separate the prisoners. They’re stronger together.”

  “Did they escape?” Simon asked.

  “They committed suicide,” Ginevra replied icily.

  “Oh, great!” Evan fumed. “Just what we needed: kamikaze Subterraneans.”

  “But how could that happen?!”

  “One of them sacrificed himself for the cause,” Zhora explained. “He provoked our Dakor and got bitten on purpose. Another tried to do the same. We attempted to stop him, but were unable to . . . and he died. What happened here?” she asked, looking around.

  “We showed up just in time. A few more minutes and they would have had her.”

  “How is she?” The Witch walked up to me. She stroked my cheek and kissed me on the mouth, leaving me dazed. A strange tingle filled me.

  “She’ll be okay,” Evan replied, barely able to hide the bitterness in his voice. He gestured at the two unconscious children on the ice, guarded by Ginevra and Zhora’s Dakor.

  “For now we’ve stopped them. I’ll take care of them later,” Ginevra snarled. “Right now, let’s get out of here.” Evan nodded. I could see him more clearly now, as the fireworks lit up the night.

  “Gemma! Gemma! Jesus! What happened to her?!” It was Peter.

  I turned my head a little and smiled at him. “Pet . . .” I said, amazed I could speak again, though my voice was hoarse. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

  “What happened?”

  “We saw an explosion. The police blocked our way, but you guys were trapped in here!” Jeneane explained, shaken.

  Faith covered her mouth with both hands as Jake gripped her shoulders. “My God! Who are those two little boys? We’ve got to get them to the hospital!” She moved closer but let out a shriek when she saw the serpents.

  “Brandon, get the police!” Jeneane cried.

  “Stop,” Evan ordered, and Brandon stopped. “Everyone calm down,” he continued, his voice grave as he crept into their minds. He was controlling them. “You guys split up from us and we didn’t meet again. We left early because Gemma had a dizzy spell. It was a great night, but the Castle collapsed and you were all scared. Go home and get some sleep.”

  “C’mon, guys,” Jake said. “You heard what the cops said, we can’t hang around here.”

  The others nodded and walked toward their car. Brandon pulled Peter by the arm, but Peter yanked himself free. “Let go of me!” he barked, looking very concerned. “I have to call Gemma. Something happened, I can sense it,” he muttered. He couldn’t see me any more, yet Evan’s words hadn’t completely reassured him.

  Evan and Simon exchanged a long look. Simon went over to Peter and rested a hand on his shoulder, looking at him intently.

  He was about to use his power. I held my breath. Only a few times had I seen Simon erase someone’s memory. It wasn’t the same as the Subterraneans’ ability to control people’s minds. Evan had planted false memories in their minds, making them believe they’d had those experiences. Simon’s power, on the other hand, went well beyond that. He acted on people’s actual memory.

  Don’t worry. Evan’s voice filled my head. Simon will only erase his memory of us.

  “Why didn’t he have to do that to the others, too?”

  “Because Peter is so attached to you. My order only partially convinced him. He must have been too worried. It happens, sometimes.”

  I looked at Peter. The veins on his neck were turning black and flowing toward Simon’s hand, as if Simon were sucking away the memories from that very spot.

  “Will he be okay?” I said softly. I still felt very weak.

  Evan nodded. “Tomorrow morning he’ll have a bad headache, that’s all.” I smiled at him. Still filled with concern, his eyes never left mine.

  “Guys!” Ginevra called, drawing our attention. “We have a problem.” A gasp escaped me. The little boys were gone.

  GIFTS FROM HELL

  “They’re very strong,” Ginevra noted as we entered the kitchen. “They almost killed Gemma—and kept us out at the same time.”

  During the trip home, I’d regained my strength and they’d explained what had happened. The two Subterraneans had frozen me in a sort of prison they’d created and had been draining me of my energy until Ginevra and Anya broke down their barriers and Evan shattered the Castle to pieces. Simon had managed to evacuate almost all the people inside, but many were injured.

  They looked like little kids but it had taken two Subterraneans and two Witches to defeat them. Ginevra was right: they were very strong.

  “But who are they?” Simon asked, frustrated.

  “Could they be shapeshifters, like Drake?” I guessed. They must have taken advantage of my sensitivity toward children to lure me away from the others.

  “No,” stated a voice behind me. A black butterfly alighted on my hand. I shivered and turned around. Sophìa.

  “Shit,” Simon muttered.

  The queen of darkness advanced. All the panthers bowed and the Witches around the table lowered their eyes as a sign of submission.

  The devil incarnate was in our house. And she wanted me with her.

  Ginevra froze, but didn’t bow. She held her gaze until Sophìa approached me and took my chin in her fingers. Evan stepped forward, but Simon stopped him. I kept my gaze steadily on hers as her incredible lapis lazuli eyes probed mine, penetrating my soul. She was so close I could smell her scent. She smelled like flowers—an obscure, forbidden fragrance. She leaned in slowly and kissed me on the lips, leaving me dazed. A current of electricity branched through me, tingling under my skin. When Sophìa’s lips left mine she smiled at me, inches from my face, but I couldn’t move a muscle. In the room, silence had fallen.

  “What did you do to her?!” Evan snarled, stepping in front of me.

  “At ease, Spartan. I come in peace,” Sophìa replied, her voice so charismatic and warm it made me quiver. “It was merely a greeting for my Naiad.”

  “She isn’t yours,” Evan growled.

  Sophìa laughed. “Yes she is. It is only a matter of time.”

  “Why have you come?” Ginevra asked.

  “Is this how you welcome me to your home?”

  “You aren’t welcome here,” Simon reminded her.

  “I was certain I understood there was a truce between us, Soldier. Is that no longer the case?” Sophìa stared at Simon.

  He glared at her threateningly in turn. Ginevra intervened before things got out of hand. “Of course it is. We weren’t expecting to see you here, that’s all. What can we do for you, my lady?”

  Sophìa smiled. Ginevra had subjugated herself to her, though her eyes burned with pride. Yet she didn’t hate her—I could sense that. She was doing it out of fear for Simon. Still, there was another emotion. It was hidden deep down but I could sense it: nostalgia. Despite everything, she missed Sophìa.

  “I am here to warn you. The two you saw are no ordinary Subterraneans.”

  “You mean they aren’t Executioners who took on the appearance of children?” I asked.

  “As I have already said, no. That is their true appearance. They are Asvins. They are not like you,” she warned, speaking to the two Subterraneans in the room. “They are divinities. Celestial creatures. And they are very powerful. They never work together, but for you, Naiad, they seem to have made an exception.”

  “I’ve never heard anything of the kind,” Simon murmured.

  “They are Soldiers. Ferrymen of Souls, like you, but from a . . . purer species.” A veiled insult glimmered in Sophìa’s eyes.

  “What does that mean?” Evan grunted. “And how do we kill them?” After what they’d done to me, he didn’t even care about the fact that if we did so others would arrive.

  “You can’t,” another voice said. We all turned to look at Devina, who’d just appeared in the living room. “My lady.” Devina bowed to Sophìa, who gave her a long, sensual kiss on the lips.

  Evan snorted, clearly disgusted. “Can we focus on the topic at hand or do you have to do that whenever you guys meet? If you want, we can leave the two of you alone.”

  Sophìa simply smiled, fixing her blue eyes on Evan. Her long, black, silver-tipped hair was tied up in a ponytail that reached her bottom, and the curves of her toned body were brought out by an extravagant gown in lace as black as her lipstick and pointy fingernails. She looked no older than twenty-five. No one would have guessed she was the devil.

  “You can’t kill them,” Devina said again. “They’re Deva twins, as old as time. They were among the first Subterraneans ever to exist and their name is legendary. They almost killed off two of us at the same time. They’re very strong and have fun toying with Souls, terrorizing them before taking them away. For them everything is a game, but it’s no laughing matter. They’re immortal. Some legends say they obtained divine favor, while according to others their souls have been redeemed. Killing them is impossible. We’ve tried to subdue them several times,” she admitted, “but since they’re children, our seductive powers have no effect on them.”

  “However, I know a way to stop them,” Sophìa concluded. “That is why I am here.”

  “We’re listening,” Evan said.

  “There is only one thing that will keep them at bay. Your paltry underground prison will not be enough to trap them. You require something special: a cage forged of a substance as ancient as they are.”