I shouldn't have cared less if some magical rubber band snapped back at him. But he was my best shot at finding out more, I was guessing.

  "You are powerful, I suspect," he finally said. "I believe — I hope — you may be powerful enough to counter the curse."

  "This curse can be countered?"

  "Perhaps."

  "You don't sound sure."

  "It has never been countered before."

  "Well, that's not promising is it?"

  He offered a strained smile. "Shall we test the theory?"

  He was eager to get this done. But then, he'd get something out of it, too, wouldn't he? I'd keep his rebellion secret; he'd live a little longer to rebel. Just what did he have planned and did his use of me end there or go further?

  I was powerful, he suspected. Powerful enough to aid him in his rebellion? Did I want to rebel against something I knew nothing about? Could he make me?

  Fuck it. Those kids needed saving and the clock was ticking. I got out of the car. Rafe followed.

  Birds twittered in a nearby tree. I couldn't even hear the sounds of traffic out on the highway anymore. The absence of that sound confirmed magia was at work here. It was hard to believe it was mine. I looked over to Rafe. He was studying the trees and flowers and a lazy bumble bee as it buzzed from one bloom to another. I couldn't read his expression. He'd donned that neutral facade again. Hiding his emotions, his reaction. The fact he stood there, staring, for so long led me to believe he did have a reaction to all of this, though. I just wasn't sure what that reaction was.

  "Okay, what's next?" I asked.

  He turned and looked at me, his eyes a deep violet I had not seen before. It quickly disappeared, but I suspected its appearance meant something. I was so looking forward to getting some solid answers.

  He started rolling his shirt sleeve up on his right arm, revealing those intricate tattoos of his. "Take your jacket off and roll up your blouse like this," he told me.

  I did as he asked, throwing my jacket back in through the open door of the car. My shoulder holster was now visible, but Rafe didn't even glance at my gun. It was only then that I realised he didn't carry one. I was pretty damn sure Brant did; I'd noticed the bulge under his jacket more than once.

  But Rafe hadn't bothered to impersonate that aspect of Brant's former partner. Which only made me conscious of the fact I was trusting a murderer here.

  "How did you kill him?" I asked. Blurted, really. Way to go, Cat.

  Rafe stopped rolling his sleeve back and looked up at me.

  "Brant's former partner," I clarified, but I doubted he needed the clarification. He knew who I was referring to.

  He didn't answer the question, though, just held his hand out to me. "Grasp my wrist and rest your forearm against mine, skin to skin," he instructed.

  I hesitated. He waited. This was undoubtedly the stupidest thing I had ever done in my life and yet I felt I had no choice but to keep moving forward. The danger was real and undefined. Rafe had answers and I needed them. There was no way I could completely trust him, but I thought I could trust him to look out for himself.

  Maybe I could use that. Maybe he'd throw me to the wolves the first moment it suited him. Maybe I was thinking about this too much. There were a lot of maybes, but what I did know was right now I had practically nothing.

  "Will the words true, right?" I said.

  "It's the intent that matters," he replied.

  "Are you going to screw me over, Raphael?" I murmured.

  "I'm risking everything by doing this, Catalin. I'm risking my very life."

  I looked up into his pale blue eyes. The violet was gone as if it never existed. In its place was a sincerity I wanted to believe, but just couldn't work out.

  "You have all the advantage," I said.

  "You are not cursed, Catalin. It is you who holds the advantage in our world."

  "Will this pact curse me?"

  "Please," he said, and I saw his need, his hope, his desperation. It could have been an act. I was pretty sure Raphael Nonpareil could act his socks off when needed. But it felt real and my fingers stopped tingling when I thought that.

  He needed this. He was desperate for hope to prevail. What world did this man live in where he could look so vulnerable and yet I knew just what he was capable of? There was no give in his body, no quarter spared in his will. He killed people, I was sure. He drank their blood like a vampire from a horror story. And yet, his armour had a chink and exposed such a wound.

  His world was my world now and I needed an ally to survive it.

  I chose him — not that I had many options available to me — and I would not lower my guard. But answers, I thought. Answers just might save me.

  And maybe through those answers, I could help save this man.

  God, what a pathetic thing to think. What a weak, stupid, terrible idea. Compassion was one thing. Blind trust was another.

  I was not going into this completely blind, though, but I was aware there was much he hadn't told me yet.

  I stared at his still outstretched arm. "I'm not sure what you're playing at, or whose side you're actually on," I said, "but know this: If you double-cross me, I will kill you."

  I had never threatened murder before — killing in the pursuit of the public's safety didn't count — but at that moment, I knew I could do it; I could murder Raphael Nonpareil in cold blood. If he proved to be my downfall, he would fall with me.

  He looked into my eyes. I saw the moment he understood I meant every word. He nodded his head to me; an unspoken agreement. If he brought my downfall, he knew it would be his.

  "Together," he murmured.

  "It's not a fucking marriage," I muttered.

  His lips twitched. "Sorgina," he drawled. "I would rather cut off my dick."

  My eyes met his and I knew he was lying. Violet flashed in their depths. Heat rose up my body. Scorching me in every place it shouldn't.

  "Is it the thought of cutting my dick off that excites you?" he asked.

  I snorted. "It paints an interesting picture," I offered.

  His hand flashed out and grasped my wrist. So fast. I had barely seen him move. He pulled me closer to him. My fingers had automatically wrapped around his wrist in turn, and now our forearms lay against each other; skin on skin.

  He would have been able to feel how hot I was. He could undoubtedly feel the rapid beat of my pulse. My chest pressed against his. My heart thudded. Something intangible flared between us; I put it down to the magia of making a pact, but I wasn't entirely sure. I hadn't felt this turned on in forever. Electricity sparked in every place his body pressed into mine. My body tingled in anticipation.

  "I, Raphael Nonpareil," he said, with what I could only assume was magia crackling around us, "Banpiro of The Involition, King of a Dead Realm, Master of Nobody, pledge the Sorgina Catalin Aguirre my support, my knowledge, and my strength. May she return the favour tenfold."

  What? Okay. My turn, I guessed.

  "I, Catalin Aguirre," I started hesitatingly. And then the words suddenly flowed from somewhere deep inside me, magia carrying them in the air, swirling them around us on invisible eddies that smelled like the wildflowers that surrounded us. "A free Sorgina outside of The Involition, Seeker of Truth, Harbinger of Justice, pledge the Banpiro Raphael Nonpareil my confidence, my silence, and my trust. May he return the favour tenfold."

  The magic hung suspended around us for a long moment and then burst apart in a fireworks display of multiple sparkling colours; the scent of wildflowers thick in the air.

  Rafe fell to one knee, his head bowed, his body rigid. His chest rose and fell too quickly. He'd released my arm, his hands fisted at his sides. I was amused to note that my fingers did not sting. I was calm.

  I'm not sure I should have been calm. Where had those words come from exactly?

  "Did it work?" I asked.

  He looked up at me. I almost wanted to take a step back at what I saw in his eyes.

  "What have you done, Witch?" he snarled and then moved like liquid lightning.

  Cat

  His hand wrapped around my neck and in a heartbeat, he had my back pressed against the thick trunk of a tree. His fangs were down and his eyes were the deep violet colour again. He snarled, the sound terrifying.

  "Wh..what?" I stammered. Aware, when I heard my voice, that he wasn't crushing my throat. Yet.

  "You should not trust me," he growled, as if angry I had thought that possible.

  "I don't," I told him. "Especially not right now," I snapped.

  He stared at his hand around my neck and frowned. "I want to end you," he said. A promise. A forlorn hope. "I can't."

  "Because of the pact?"

  His thumb started stroking the side of my neck. It sent unwanted shivers down my body.

  "Trust," he spat. "Why would you pledge that?"

  "I have to trust somebody."

  "But you don't trust me."

  "I didn't say it made sense."

  "Did you even think about what you were pledging?"

  "The words just formed on my lips," I admitted. His eyes darted to my lips then and he licked his own, his gaze heating. I squirmed under his hold. He let out a breath of air that felt scorching. "I had no idea what I was going to say," I added, looking anywhere but at his mouth.

  "There is no trust in my world," he murmured. "To compel me to offer it is a sin."

  "I'm sorry."

  He looked me in the eyes then, searching. "You are sorry."

  "I said I was. I don't lie, Raphael."

  "I do," he said and released me, spinning away and placing distance between us.

  I waited, but he didn't add anything. "So, it worked," I finally said.

  "Yes, it fucking worked," Rafe snapped.

  "I broke the curse?" I asked, surprised.

  He laughed then; a derisive, sharp sound. Unfriendly. "No, Catalin. The curse cannot be broken."

  "But you said…"

  He swung back around to glare at me. "I lied."

  I met his gaze, my chin lifted defiantly. "And now, Raphael?" I asked. "Can you lie to me now?"

  He let a piercing scream out into the air, his head tipped back, his eyes closed; a supplicant to the heavens. His fingers absently worried at the gipsy bracelet on his left wrist.

  I should have given him space. I should have done the decent thing and turned my back on him; allowing him a perceived moment of privacy to vent his frustration. But had he been so kind to me since he'd arrived here?

  No.

  "What is that?" I asked. "The bracelet."

  He sucked in a breath of air, opened his eyes again and tipped his head down to stare at the bracelet he was still worrying.

  "It's a lotu. It allows me to walk in the sun." Huh. "It denies me my nature."

  "You don't want to walk in the sun?"

  He huffed out an unamused breath. "It has its benefits." The more I talked as if nothing had happened, the more he got himself under control again. "There are other things I miss."

  The longing I heard in his voice stunned me. I felt a measure of empathy for this man I did not wish to feel.

  "Like what?" I asked. He was still twisting and turning the bracelet, almost pulling the damn thing off his wrist.

  "I can no longer hunt as I used to."

  "Hunt," I said.

  "My magia is suppressed. I barely have enough to survive."

  Oh.

  "And now," he said, his tone dry, "I seem unable to keep my secrets from you."

  "I have no problem with that."

  He let out a wretched-sounding chuckle. "Catalin," he said. "Should she ask me something I have pledged to keep silent, she will end my life."

  "The All-Mother," I guessed.

  "Ama," he said. "She likes to be called Ama. It means All-Mother in our language. She is very old, very powerful, and very strict."

  "But I can't tell her about your rebellion, either. Isn't that a good thing?"

  "You," he laughed hopelessly, "she would drain you of your magia, feast on your defiance, abuse your body to suit her needs, and then only when a husk is left would she allow you peace in death."

  "So," I said slowly. "Doesn't like snarky witchlings, then?"

  A burst of laughter that sounded genuine was my answer to that question. He looked at me finally. Violet swirled in his eyes, but it was banked, I thought.

  "Tread carefully, Catalin; we are connected now by ituna. Your fate is my fate and vice versa."

  "Not at all creepy," I muttered.

  "Trust," he muttered, twirling his bracelet — his lotu — around and around. "It should not be magicked. It is earned, not given. Not stolen. This could backfire on us. Had I thought you would pledge it and demand it of me, I would have stopped you. But I…"

  "…was stingy with your knowledge."

  "Not entirely by choice, sorgina. The curse is binding."

  "And now, so is the pact."

  "Yes. One shall prevail, the other shall forfeit."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Either you are as strong as I hope, or she is stronger still."

  "I can't be as strong as the All-Mother, surely."

  He shook his head. "She is worried, and I have rarely seen her worried over the many, many years I have been subjected to her rule. Ilya, the gudari, said as much. To send him so early in my assignment indicates a level of paranoia I have not seen for decades. We must take care, Catalin."

  "And how do we do that, Rafe?"

  "We train you as best we can. We educate you so your knowledge matches hers. And then we convince her you are weak and not worth her worry."

  "When I will be precisely not that, I'm guessing. What are your plans for me, banpiro?"

  His lips quirked at my use of their language. It either amused him or pleased him; I couldn't tell which.

  "I feel compelled to answer that and for that alone, I wish to punish you."

  "Hurt me?" I asked, warily.

  "There are pleasurable ways to punish the sinner, Catalin."

  And I bet he knew every single way to do that. My body certainly perked up at the idea. Ridiculous. I was not going to get turned on thinking about a vampire bending me over his knee to spank my ass.

  I shifted on my feet and stared at the wildflowers.

  "You didn't answer the question," I observed.

  "Hmm," he said. "There appears to be ways to thwart the pact."

  "That's not reassuring at all, Raphael."

  "Not completely. You have my support and strength. I have your confidence and silence. But perhaps we can both hold onto our dignity where my knowledge and your trust is concerned. Is that not fair?"

  "I need answers, Raphael."

  "And yet you should not trust my kind."

  "Why? Are you that self-centred?"

  "Yes, to a degree. But simply put, our world is untrustworthy."

  "How? Why?"

  "The curses. They broke us. They moulded us into creatures we are not meant to be."

  "Tell me about them." He stilled. "Please," I added, even when I wasn't sure why that please had been needed.

  He sighed and walked over to one of the picnic tables, taking a seat. I followed and sat opposite him. The table between us felt flimsy. I could smell his cologne, and feel his body heat. Being this near to him was insufferable. How would it be closed up inside my car?

  "There are three curses," he started and then paused. "She may be able to tell I am breaking the vow of silence. If so, she will send Ilya after us sooner rather than later. Are you sure you wish to continue with this line of questioning?"

  "What was the point of the pact if I don't have answers? You said you'd educate me; train me. Are you breaking your side of the deal?"

  He winced as if that was a bad idea. Maybe we could circumvent parts of it, but to break it looked like it might be a terrible thing. We were well and truly stuck with each other and I hadn't even thought to add a time limit to it. But neither had he.

  I wasn't sure if that meant anything or not, but I was sick of not knowing things.

  "So, she sends the werewolf after us. We can take him," I said with more bravado than I actually had.

  "If you were trained, yes. Maybe. But you are not."

  "I can fire a gun," I pointed out. "I'm a good shot."

  "Then we need silver bullets."

  "That's a thing?"

  "Yes, it's a thing. So is sunlight burning vampires, werewolves forced to change at the Full Moon, and power an aphrodisiac for a witch. These are immutable. Genetic even. A silver bullet can kill any of us. To the heart or head. Silver can also cause unimaginable pain if used as a tool to achieve such a thing."

  "Torture. You're talking about torture."

  "Yes, and also as a weapon of some description that is not designed to kill, but to fend off an attack. A knife maybe. Such a cut will not kill your attacker, but it will distract them enough for you to shoot for the head or heart, or escape if death is not appropriate."

  I snorted. "Nice to know you don't go for the lethal option every time, Rafe."

  He grinned at me. I looked away, studying the wildflowers intently.

  "The curses?" I pressed when he said nothing. I could feel the heat of his gaze on my cheek.

  "The curses were created to aid us," he said quietly. "That's how they were sold to the masses in any case. Allow a vampire to walk in the sun. Prevent a werewolf from the forced change at the Full Moon. Temper a witch's lust for power so it does not consume her. But the creator weaved something else into each curse, something treacherous and evil. Something that binds us into a mockery of our former selves. She did not tell a soul of what she had done until it was too late. We trusted her. Even her own kind trusted her. In the end, we all paid for that blind faith."

  "Trust no one," I said.

  "Exactly. It is now a mantra we all are served best to repeat."

  "And that spell she weaved?" I asked.

  He looked at me. "She will know if I tell you."

  "She probably already knows, Rafe," I said softly. I wasn't sure how certain of that I was, but it felt right. My fingers agreed.

  Gio had broken the seal on revealing their world to me. Rafe had bound himself to me in a pact that forced him to answer me. At least, it made him feel compelled to answer my questions anyway. The stone had been set in motion, it rolled down the hill now, gathering speed. I had no idea how this would end, but it would not end with me or any of the monkeys dead. That I was certain of.