“No,” she started, but he didn’t allow her to finish.

  “I know what you’re up against and you’ll need the assist. Allow me and my associate (and he motioned to Lorcan) to help while your daughter goes inside to clean up. This isn’t a fight for little girls.”

  Meredith and I made almost identical sounds of outrage at that. Little girls, my ass. Who’d just rescued someone from a murderous Winter faerie? Me. Who’d stopped a plot that would have kicked off another Blood War? Me. And who the spell was he training to take over as the ruler of Autumn? Again, the answer was me. So, where the spell did he get off calling me a little girl?

  “Fine. Just know that if either of you gets in the way of me or mine, I’m not stopping to scrape your charred corpses off the ground,” Lucretia said, eyes narrow. “We’re Rangers and we don’t tolerate weakness here. That Winter faerie is probably looking to launch an attack on the prison. We’re not going to let them get that far.”

  “No, we’re not,” Uncle Fox said. “Lorcan, are you with me?”

  Lorcan nodded, helping me to my feet. I felt dizzy and cold, which was a bad sign. The last time I’d felt this unwell, I’d been stuck in a basement for a week, unable to feed. I needed blood and I needed it soon. He looked me over and winced.

  “Get inside,” he said, producing his room key and offering it to me. “There’s blood in the refrigerator. Feed and rest. I’ll be back soon.”

  “But–”

  “No buts,” he said, ruffling my hair. In this scenario, it made me feel more like an adorable puppy than his adoptive daughter. “I’m serious about avoiding my fate as a skin suit, should your cousin realize you’ve come home with so much as a scratch,” he continued. “Leave this to us. I promise this will be resolved in no time.”

  “I’m not leaving you!” I snapped.

  “Yes, you are,” Uncle Fox said. “You’re too valuable to lose, so you’re staying put until I say otherwise.”

  “But you don’t know about—” I started to say, realizing I needed to tell him what I’d witnessed between Cattleya and the gnome—that she’d demanded his van which would be just the item necessary to move a Winter fugitive.

  But before I could finish my sentence, Uncle Fox snapped his fingers. Vermillion spots danced before my eyes and I suddenly found myself on the floor of Lorcan’s room, Meredith crouched not far away. She looked utterly disoriented, whipping her head this way and that as she realized we weren’t on the snow-laden street any longer. Instead, there was a gaggle of faeries congregated on the bed, watching us recover. Smudge, Flax, and Mocha were huddled on top of a pile of Lorcan’s clothes.

  “Where are we?” Meredith asked. “What just happened?”

  “My uncle just locked us in Lorcan’s room, Cinderella-style,” I growled. Actually growled. Yeah, it was embarrassing, but at least this occasion called for it.

  “Why?” she asked. “How?”

  “Magic, and because he’s a prick!” I answered as I pushed to my feet. “We have to get out of here.” I’d literally bled for this fight already. I wasn’t going to get relegated to the sidelines just because other people decided it was suddenly too dangerous. That wasn’t how witches worked, and it definitely wasn’t how I worked.

  “And do what?” Meredith asked.

  That was an excellent question.

  And I’d figure it out once I picked the locks on the door.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “It’s no use,” Mocha sniffed, adjusting his glasses for the third time in as many minutes. “You’re not going to crack your uncle’s wards, girl. Sit down and be patient, as instructed.”

  I kicked the door in frustration. When the spell had Uncle Fox had the time to place wards all over Lorcan’s room? Had my surrogate father figure been in on it, or was it something the sneaky bastard had done on the down low? I was hoping for the latter. I didn’t want to be pissed at Lorcan for indulging the patriarchal idea of ‘protecting the little lady.’ I was a freaking vampire. I could take care of myself, especially now that I had two pints of blood in me and a new wardrobe. I was ready to kick someone’s ass. And if he didn’t quit gabbing, that ass was going to belong to Moschata.

  “I’ve unraveled wards before,” I muttered. “A corridor full of them. This shouldn’t be that difficult!”

  Meredith faced away from the other door with a sigh. We’d been locked out of the adjoining room too, for good measure. Clearly, Uncle Fox wasn’t taking any chances that I’d slip out the back. And worse, every time that I tried to focus long enough to open a door into Autumn, I received a migraine and a dusting of foul-smelling herbs for my trouble. Fox had thought of everything.

  “These are large, complex wards,” she said, tracing one with grudging admiration. “I think my mother would have trouble besting these, and she’s the strongest witch I know. You’d either need to know the exact frequency to undo them…”

  “Or?”

  “Or you’d have to hit them at just the right angle with an opposing force that the caster hadn’t anticipated.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Could you do it?” I asked as she started to shake her head. “I mean, you thwarted your mom’s spell back there. I would have been a smear on the ground if you hadn’t stepped in when you did.”

  Meredith’s cheeks colored in response to the praise, but she shook her head, anyway. “I still don’t know what I did or how I did it.” She breathed in deeply. “So, no, I’m pretty sure there’s no way I’m going to be able to best these.”

  “Exactly,” Mocha sniffed. “Which is why you both should sit and wait quietly for Prince Reynard’s return.” Then he looked at me. “I assure you that your uncle has things well in hand.”

  I gave Flax and Smudge a significant look. “Would one of you two shut him up, please? His voice is annoying me.”

  Flax and Smudge exchanged nasty grins, and seconds later, a cat and crow were prowling across the quilt toward the minuscule faerie. He let out an alarmed shout and took to the air to avoid the swipe of Smudge’s paw. They followed after him, not to be deterred. I’d essentially given Smudge the go-ahead for his favorite activity—harassing smaller faeries than himself. It ought to keep Mocha busy for a while.

  I crossed to the window, examining the wards on the sill. They gleamed heartlessly in the wavering light from the outside of our room, still intact, no matter what I threw at them. The power in the room was long gone, knocked out by the winter winds which were still howling through Jinx Junction. Thankfully, Meredith had a little talent for elemental magic and had managed to find a pair of candles under the bathroom sink, lighting them with a flick of her finger and a muttered word. Snowbells passed the window every few seconds, dancing in and out of the swirling snow like they were performing a complex and silent ballet. It was mesmerizing to watch.

  At least, it would have been, if an unpleasant thought hadn’t flitted into my mind at the sight of them. I motioned Meredith over, pointing out the window at the marble-sized nuisances.

  “You said that snowbells are harmless, right?”

  She nodded. “Usually, unless they swarm, and they only do that if they’re being commanded by one of the High Sidhe. And the only High Sidhe of Winter nearby is Groupel, and his powers have been suppressed.”

  “So, what’s the deal with them appearing, then?”

  She shrugged. “The person who attacked us could be ordering them to swarm, but they’d be doing it at a distance. Your uncle even said so.”

  “Then why are there so many flitting up and down the street?” I asked. “If whoever is commanding them is far away, why are there so many of them here, causing mischief?”

  Meredith absorbed that for a horrified moment before breathing, “Oh, Goddess. That must mean there’s more than one High Sidhe from Winter in town then.” Then she shook her head as I wondered just how Cattleya, a spy for Autumn, figured into this—because I was fairly certain she did—what with the refrigerated van and all. “But… that’s impossible—I mean, a High Sidhe from Winter being here—in Jinx Junction!” Meredith paused a moment as she apparently thought more about it. “How would they have gotten into town without being stopped? Everyone is on high alert and they would have stopped whoever it was before they could reach town.”

  But they hadn’t. The presence of swarming snowbells confirmed that. And I had a sneaking suspicion why no one was dealing with the little buggers.

  “You said the witches at the prison ignored it when snowbells set off the alarms, right? Because they weren’t considered a threat, so no one took them seriously, right?” Meredith nodded. “But… well, what if that was the whole point?”

  “The whole point?”

  I nodded. “What if someone sent the snowbells in on purpose? In order to lower the guards’ suspicions so that when there was another sensor blip, the guards just ignored it?”

  The swarms of lesser fae weren’t a fluke—I was pretty sure. This was tactical, a way to lull even the highly trained witch guards into complacency while someone did a jail break. I’d suspected there was going to be an attempt to spring someone from the prison, but Uncle Fox couldn’t be in on it. He was an excellent liar, when he had to be, sure, but the concern and determination on his face earlier had been genuine. And if he had been in league with someone to spring a prisoner to use as hostage, he would have made damn sure they hadn’t tried to kill me. So, no, he wasn’t behind any of this, I was convinced.

  Meredith’s mouth popped open as the truth clicked into place. “They’re here to free Groupel.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “But by the time that the guards realize the attack is real, it’ll be too late.” Her expression further dropped. “And Mother has all her best fighters elsewhere.”

  And we were stuck in this damned room, unable to warn anyone of the impending threat. Winter faeries could be cunning and vicious when they wanted to be. Whatever distraction they’d planned for Uncle Fox and the others, it would occupy their attention for just long enough to get the job done.

  I scrabbled my phone out of my pocket. On the off chance that someone would hear their cell ringing and actually answer it in the middle of a crisis, I figured I could at least warn them. I was pissed about being put in lock down, but I didn’t want anyone to get hurt, and I definitely didn’t want some scary Winter war criminal to get sprung out of the slammer.

  But it was no good. Between either the wards messing with the connection, or the storm blocking the towers, I didn’t have any service. My hands clenched around my phone, tight enough that I heard the plastic casing crack, and I had to lighten my grip in a hurry.

  I hated this. This sick, helpless feeling curling through my chest. The last time I’d felt this way was when Valserak’s fangs were in my throat, and my limbs had been numb and useless from blood loss. I’d never wanted to feel that way again. And I’d be damned if I was going to feel it now. So, I scrambled after my anger, trying to wrap it around me like a warm cloak to keep the bitter chill of despair away.

  Crunching footsteps sounded outside, barely audible, even to my sensitive ears. I motioned for Meredith to douse the flame and she did, ducking behind me when I moved to one side of the window. I peered around the frame, squinting to see past the spiraling snow and found a huddled mass of faeries in the middle of the street. It was hard to tell in the limited light, but it wasn’t just a group of faeries out there. I was pretty sure I spotted a half-dozen humanoid creatures with blue-gray skin and stringy hair. Their eyes were blank whiteness in their eerily human faces.

  “What the spell is out there?” Meredith asked, her voice an octave higher than usual. I couldn’t blame her. The sight spooked me, and I was seeing it with more clarity than she was. One’s own imagination was usually worse than the reality of things.

  “I hope I’m wrong... but I think they’re Mahaha.”

  Meredith arched a brow at me. “Mahaha? As in the canned evil laugh they use in mundane TV shows?”

  “No, Mahaha, as in the creatures Inuits consider demons.”

  “But I’m guessing they aren’t demons?”

  I shook my head. “No, they’re faerie or... faerie adjacent. The origins are a bit unclear, but they make their home in the far north.”

  “And they’d team up with the Winter Court?”

  I cocked my head to the side. “Mahaha would work with Winter if it suited them.”

  “Okay, so what do they do? Like why are they dangerous?” Meredith asked.

  “They tickle you to death.”

  Her eyebrows shot for the ceiling. “Seriously? Because if that’s a joke, your timing sucks.”

  “It’s not a joke. Their touch is absolutely deadly, freezing the body solid in five minutes or less. The victims always die with a strained smile on their faces.”

  “Could they kill you?”

  “Um,” I started as I thought about it. “I don’t think they could kill me outright. I’m undead, you know?” She nodded. “But your heart would stop for good, though.”

  Meredith shuddered, rubbing her arms as if one of the awful things had already gotten a grip on her. “Do you think they ambushed our people? Is that why no one is fighting this?”

  “I don’t know. They’re not supposed to be very bright, so someone must be...” I trailed off as another figure strode into sight, taller and more regal looking than the stooped Mahaha. “Commanding them,” I finished sourly.

  The woman was familiar. Pale and swanlike in appearance, hair the color of barley, wearing a sienna dress and amber hair pins. Except, as I watched, her appearance began to shift. The color leached from her hair, leaving it the slushy shade of day-old snow. In the darkness, I could make out the fact that her eyes were almost as pale and sightless as the Mahaha around her. The dress she wore was a blue-gray that now hugged a much thinner frame. Her legs were still long, but they now looked rangy, like they belonged to an underfed mountain lion.

  “Cattleya,” I hissed. “Damn it! I knew there was something off about her!”

  Her aura had been as cold as Taliyah’s when Taliyah got her Winter on. But how the hell had Cattleya been able to conceal that from Uncle Fox? Especially when I’d felt it? I mean, Fox was the mature faerie here, not me. Yet, Cattleya’s glamour had been really excellent, the more I thought about it. The only reason I’d picked up on it was because of her smell—that pine tree icicle scent—a smell I’d been able to get purely owing to my vampire senses.

  “Who?”

  “Lady Cattleya,” I spat. “She’s one of the Autumn faeries in this region. Or she should have been. But I don’t think the woman Fox met with was the one he was meant to meet with,” I explained as I tried to put the pieces together. “Because this Cattleya is a hundred percent Winter. But how the hell did she manage to impersonate an Autumn noble long enough to fool him?”

  Someone used to dealing with the Fae would know to glamour her appearance and hide her magical signature—which is exactly what Cattleya had done to hide the truth of who she was when she was in front of Uncle Fox. But what she hadn’t planned on was a vampire’s enhanced sense of smell, something Fox didn’t have so he’d been fooled…

  Well, at least I hadn’t been totally off the mark, being suspicious of a jail break. It just turned out that the Faerie formerly known as ‘Cattleya’ hadn’t been the loyal little Autumn noble I’d thought she was (or that Fox had thought she was either, for that matter).

  At least that answered the question of the stupid ice-cream van she’d strong-armed that gnome into lending her—no doubt, she’d planned on using it to transport Groupel, whose power would be dangerously low since he’d been in prison for Goddess only knew how long. In the heat of Jinx Junction, he wouldn’t last a second.

  “As to how she fooled Fox—is that his name?” I nodded. “Well, there are spells and artifacts—old and evil stuff that Winter is rumored to have stolen.”

  “Spells and artifacts?” I repeated, not really sure what point she was trying to make.

  “Right—stuff that could allow the user to maintain glamour that might trick another court. For example, there was a chain that could bind someone’s appearance and personality to the wearer.”

  “Then whoever this woman is—she could have used that chain to impersonate the real Cattleya?”

  Meredith nodded. “She would have needed to have something belonging to the true Cattleya to keep the glamour up for long periods of time, but the chain is powerful enough to fool even the Sidhe.”

  “A chain,” I said slowly, remembering my only encounter with Cattleya. “Like a charm anklet?”

  Meredith nodded. “That would do it.”

  “And that’s what she was wearing.”

  “Was there a locket of some kind attached to it? She could have hidden a piece of hair of the true Cattleya’s or something like that in a locket.”

  “There was,” I said, dredging up the memory. “A heart-shaped locket.”

  Meredith chewed the side of her check and appeared concerned. “Can you look out there and see if whoever that is—if she’s holding a scepter of some kind in her hand?”

  I pressed my face closer to the glass, eyeing the figure. She was speaking to the Mahaha now, probably giving some melodramatic speech about Winter, succession, and whatnot. She was at least obliging enough to gesticulate while giving her presentation, because I caught a glimpse of something short and silvery clutched tight in one hand.

  “Yes. Short, silver, has an elaborate knot shape at one end.”

  “Hexes and hoarfrost,” Meredith swore. “It’s a binding staff.”

  “A what?” I echoed.

  “A binding staff,” she repeated, the words coming quickly in her panic. “It’s a type of artifact specifically geared to hurt witches, stripping them of their ability to do dark magic.”

  “So?”

  “So, if you’re especially tuned into the flow of black magic, a binding staff can render you unconscious. Mother thought she’d found and destroyed the last of them years ago.”

  My heart plummeted down to my toes. If Meredith was right, it meant that we were completely on our own.