"Cat trusts you."

  "Catalin and I share a pact."

  "Ooh, an ituna! I've never seen one of those before." He studied Rafe and me intently as we walked.

  I felt like I was walking to my doom. Even if Ama didn't kill me, I was as good as dead. How could I do this? Risk this beautiful little boy for my friend? There had to be another way.

  "I'm not sure what you have is an ituna," Mikel said, interrupting my frantic but useless thoughts once again. "Mom and Dad had something like what you've got and they didn't call it an ituna."

  "You can see magic?" I asked, a little stunned.

  "It's one of my talents." He sounded so proud of himself. His little chest had puffed out and his chin was tipped up. I could just imagine his parents telling him how proud they were of his magical talent.

  His dead parents. I stopped in my tracks.

  "I can't do this," I said numbly.

  Rafe walked on a few steps and then reluctantly turned to look back. His eyes were violet again. Mikel said nothing. I scowled as I looked between them.

  "Are you maskara-ing him?" I asked Rafe.

  "An interesting turn of phrase."

  "Answer the question!"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "He was making your life miserable. I'm only sorry I didn't do it sooner."

  "Well, stop it. I can handle a kid asking too many questions."

  Rafe looked pained. "He is very insightful." It was a mutter; a complaint.

  I thought back to what Mikel had been saying. What was it? Something about our pact not being a pact but being similar to what his parents had?

  "What has he noticed that you don't want me to know?" I asked.

  Rafe said nothing.

  I turned to look at Mikel.

  "Release him, Raphael," I demanded.

  "You are not the master here, Catalin."

  "What does that mean?"

  Rafe clammed up again.

  Hey kid? Can you hear me? I tried.

  He's not a very nice banpiro.

  Not many are, I understand.

  He doesn't want me to tell you that you've formed a bond.

  A bond?

  Not like my parents' mate-bond, but it's just as strong.

  Do you know what it is? I had a very bad feeling about this.

  I can't remember what they're called. Mom and Dad might have told me once, but no one does them anymore. They're old. Like, really old.

  Forget the name. What does this bond do? Can you tell me that?

  His eyes met mine. He looked both mortified and sorry for me.

  He's the master of the bond. You're his servant.

  I arched my brow at the kid.

  Honest, he said, lowering his eyes to the ground.

  I turned and glared at the vampire. "What did you do, Rafe?"

  He sighed. "I did what I thought was necessary to protect you and save our kind."

  "Our kind? Or just the vamps?"

  He grimaced at the slang. "It is the magical world that is corrupt, Catalin, and she wields the corruption."

  "The All-Mother," I said.

  "Ama is a rot that must be excised."

  "So, why hasn't anyone excised her then?"

  He said nothing. He didn't need to. We'd gone over this before. No one was strong enough.

  "I'm not the one, Rafe," I said.

  "I think you are."

  "And this bond is meant to make that happen?"

  "Yes. I hope. Maybe."

  Fuck me. I couldn't even be furious at him. I had no high horse to stand on. I was about to risk the kid's life to save my friend. I was just as bad as Rafe at doing what I thought was necessary to win and to hell with the consequences.

  "Some pair we make," I murmured.

  "The maisu/morroi bond is actually a beautiful thing when wielded correctly," Rafe said.

  "Maisu/morroi, huh?" I said. "And you couldn't just ask me?"

  He shrugged. "That did not seem prudent at the time."

  "Because it's some fucked up shit that puts you in command of me, right?"

  "There must always be a master, but that does not mean…"

  I held up my hand for him to stop. I couldn't deal with this right now. Harlee was waiting. I glanced up at the sun. By now, the night was not far from falling. I was exhausted. The kid looked wrung out. Rafe was the only one with bright eyes and ironed creases still showing in his clean clothes.

  How the fuck did he do that?

  I looked at Mikel. Then I looked at Rafe. Closing my eyes and willing all of this away didn't change a damn thing. And then a small hand slipped into mine again.

  "It's okay," the kid said. "I understand."

  I looked down at him. Innocent but knowing eyes looked up at me.

  "You reading my mind, Mikel?" I asked.

  "It wasn't hard. You don't have many walls."

  "I don't know how to do walls," I admitted.

  "Some stuff is walled off," the kid said, tilting his head to the side and narrowing his eyes at me. "Like what you really feel for the banpiro." That was quite enough of that! I opened my mouth, but he went on before I could talk. "I like Harlee," he said. "She seems kind."

  "She is," I whispered.

  "What the All-Mother is doing to her is wrong."

  What I want to use you for is wrong too, I thought.

  "She's your friend. You don't know me."

  "You're a kid, kid. It's flat-out wrong."

  "Then don't do it. Think of another way."

  "I would if I could," I said, and Rafe held up a hand to stop me from speaking. I was about to give him an earful; this was my confession and I would damn well confess my sins to this kid!

  But then a wolf appeared around the corner of the last container ahead of us. I spun and one appeared at our backs. Drool dribbled off long fangs as they offered up chilling growls of warning.

  I heard a scuff of feet above us and cursed myself as an idiot for not watching the high ground. Crouched on a container's roof was a witch and on the other side of the gap we were in, another appeared as if materialising out of thin air.

  "Shit," I muttered, as Rafe said, "Nerea, you're getting better at hiding your approach."

  "And you're getting sloppy in your old age, printzea," she said.

  Cat

  Mikel was shaking as he walked beside me. His skinny knees were knocking together and his face had gone completely white. There was no violet to be seen in his eyes; I couldn't tell if that was his doing — trying to hide what he was from the witches around us — or their doing. Either way, the kid knew we were in deep trouble.

  This had been the plan, of course. I was always going to bring him to The Involition. I just hadn't intended on leaving him there. He knew this, but that didn't mean the evil creatures that surrounded us didn't scare him out of his wits.

  A wolf brushed against me, then, as if to break my anguished thoughts apart. The coarse fur on its side scraped against my bare arm. It was grey with white around its muzzle and down its chest. Standing, it reached my shoulder. Its eyes shone violet. I couldn't feel magia, but I thought I heard something inside my head. A whisper. A snarl. It was hard to say.

  I glanced at Mikel, but the kid was staring straight forward, not making eye contact with anyone. If he heard the sound, he wasn't saying.

  The wolf walked on and fell in beside Nerea. I had no idea who the wolf was, but the witch I recognised. She had been the witch who had beaten me when I first arrived in The Involition's castle. I hadn't had a name before, but now I knew it, I committed it to memory.

  Nerea and Ama. Two names at the top of my Shit List.

  I couldn't help but feel a little scared. My last visit hadn't been a walk in the park, after all, and the fact that Nerea and her cohorts had turned up at the port unannounced, left a bad taste in my mouth.

  Had they been watching us all along? How much did Ama know? Was this a trap? A foregone conclusion? Did I have a snowball's chance of getting Harlee and Mikel out of there?

  I started second-guessing my plan. Not that I hadn't already been doing that. But I started to second guess my ability to see the plan through to fruition. It was not a good state of mind to be in when about to face off against an opponent. Usually, my opponents were of the criminal variety — and there was no doubt that the All-Mother was a criminal, just not a mundane one — but that didn't mean my opponents in the past hadn't been psychopaths.

  I knew what I was walking into. I also knew that I might be out of my league here. Throw in magia and all bets were off, I imagined.

  I shook my hands out, rolled my head on my neck, and let out a slow breath of air. The tingling in my fingertips didn't help. The nausea could have been a byproduct of the tingling or just knowing what was about to happen would not be good. I ignored it as best I could and kept a lid on my panicked imaginings.

  The Beehive appeared before us as the moon rose above the city's skyscrapers. I couldn't see many stars, but in the capital, that wasn't unusual. Harlee had been in Ama's care too long. It was time to end this.

  One step to the next and we were there. Out of what I was coming to call the mundane realm, and into hell's. Ama was the devil and clearly, she was expecting us.

  Lined up on either side of the grand foyer — where that pervert of a male witch sat behind his big wooden desk licking his lips at me — were two rows of witches. The sheer number threw me. I hadn't realised there were that many of them. All of their eyes were glowing violet. Male, female. It didn't matter. All of them were displaying their magical power as they either glared daggers at me or mentally undressed me.

  The boy got the odd look, but it wasn't the same avarice as the looks I was receiving. I took that as a good sign. There were woefully few good signs, so I was grasping.

  At every single witch's feet sat a vampire. A banpiro. On their knees, their heads bowed, their hands resting, loosely clasped on their laps before them. Complete submission.

  I wanted to look at Rafe, but I didn't think that would help him or them. This was a show. A performance. It was designed to kowtow us. To kowtow him. What had he called himself? King of a Dead Realm. These were his people. His responsibility.

  And they were being used as pawns in his deadly game of cat and mouse with the All-Mother. And I thought she might be winning.

  My fingers stung. My chest hurt. My stomach roiled. I could have swallowed the saliva that pooled in my mouth, but I was getting angrier the closer to Ama's throne room we got. I spat on the male witch's desk as I walked past.

  He jumped back, his chair scraping loudly over the stone tiles, and I laughed.

  Yeah, I wasn't going to be easy to kowtow, bitches.

  An eerie howl drifted in through the windows of the castle. Several responding howls joined it. The hair on my arms rose. I guessed my bravado was just an act as well.

  Nerea pushed open the huge double doors that led into Ama's chamber and we walked in without pause. I could have paused. I knew Mikel could have paused too. I could hear him whispering inside his head. Don't let them see. Don't let them see. Don't let them see.

  Mikel?

  Don't let them see you can read minds, Cat. A bit late for that, I thought glumly.

  Why? I asked.

  It's an old power. A lost power. It's special.

  And special here is not good, I surmised. Damn it.

  No. Don't let them see.

  I nodded my head to him — my heart aching — but he wasn't looking at me, his eyes had landed on Ama.

  She was dressed in leathers today, complete with a coiled whip on her hip. I think she was trying to remind me about our last interaction. I'd been tied to a chair and tortured, then hung from chains and whipped. Her leathers were sexy, so the cut of the outfit was all for Raphael. A two-for-one message. Sadistic bitch.

  I couldn't see Harlee.

  "Where's Senior Operative Harlee Forster?" I demanded.

  "Catalin," Ama purred. "You brought me a gift."

  "And we had a deal. Or does that mean nothing in this fucked up world of yours?"

  Her eyes flashed. Anger and frustration, but they were soon gone. I was pissing her off, and I wasn't sure that was a good idea. The All-Mother was clearly unstable, but as far as advantages went, I had none, so I was working with what I did have. Keep her off balance until an opportunity presented itself.

  But first I needed Harlee in the same room as us.

  "Bring in the human," Ama said.

  Harlee was dragged into the room, her feet stumbling over each other to keep up with the witch who gripped her upper arm. Her bruises were almost gone, or at least, looked a few weeks old. But that wasn't an indication they had healed her. Maybe weeks had passed since we'd last been here. Who knew what speed time moved at in this god-forsaken realm?

  At least she was clean and wearing functional clothes again.

  Harlee's dull eyes met mine and she mouthed, "Cat." As if she were surprised I'd come. Had she given up hope?

  "Senior Operative," I said in as commanding a voice as I could manage. "We'll have you home in no time," I promised.

  Harlee stood a little straighter but flinched when Ama cackled.

  I really was beginning to despise this woman.

  Who was I kidding? I hated her with every fibre of my being.

  I let her see that hate in my eyes.

  "Such fire, Catalin," she purred. "We can use that. Given the right incentive, you could be one of the greats."

  "And do your evil bidding?" I asked. "I don't think so."

  "You won't have much choice," she said, and I acted.

  It was too soon. I knew it. Not all the witches had accompanied us into the throne room, but that only meant they and the wolves — as well as the subjugated vampires — were out in the grand foyer. If we survived the next few minutes in here, we'd only have to battle them out there.

  We were outnumbered. Out-magicked. But surprise was the only asset I had and I had decided to use it now, it seemed.

  I was good at adjusting on the fly, but even I knew I'd jumped the gun on this one. My skin crawled the longer I remained in this place, my fingers ached and my stomach revolted. Adrenaline fueled me. Desperation rode shotgun to it.

  I had to get Harlee out of here. I had to save the kid.

  I shot a thought at the Mikel. Blast them with a mental screech!

  And then I was racing across the throne room to Harlee, throwing out what magia I could wrangle under the circumstances, making them all think they were seeing something else.

  I didn't hear Mikel's screech. It could have been he was protecting me from it, but I wasn't sure he had that kind of finesse. And then I remembered his mental mantra.

  Don't let them see.

  Son of a bitch! He was frozen, unsure whether to trust me and reveal himself or do what his parents had always demanded.

  I couldn't blame him, but the distraction would have been nice.

  As it was, I made it to Harlee before any of the witches could react, and I freed her of the witch who had been gripping her upper arm by the expedient action of punching the fucker in the face.

  And then we were running toward the double doors and whatever magia I had spent had run out. I focused forward; hoping, praying we were close enough. I thrust out a hand, but what that would do, I had no idea. My fingers stung, but my will was rock solid.

  I willed the doors to disappear.

  They did.

  I forgot about Rafe. He could look after himself and not aiding me would protect his cover. But Mikel I yelled at, inside his head. Run!

  I heard his little feet slapping on the tiles. He was just behind us. The way was clear. The witches had been thrown off balance by the sudden flurry of activity, the missing double doors, and the nerve of the untrained witchling trying to bust out of Alcatraz.

  It was doomed to failure. Part of me knew that. But another part, an increasingly bigger and more dominant part, refused to give up; refused to not try; wanted to blast the lot of them to hell and back.

  I willed them all to stumble. To trip over their own feet. Several did. Some even took themselves out when their heads hit the stone floor and gave them concussions.

  We were so close.

  Harlee was panting but, by God, she was giving it everything. Mikel was right beside us, determination and fear on his sweet little face.

  And then out of nowhere, Ama appeared before us. One hand raised out in front of her just like I had done; violet blinding me from the glow in her eyes.

  As had already been established, I can't feel magia. The violet in their eyes is a clue, but I can't actually feel the magic being used. It would have been nice if I could have. But all I could do was get a hot-or-cold direction from my precognition ability and read the odd mind.

  So far, I'd only managed that with another telepath. And Mikel had been the one to start the connection. I had no idea if the mind I read had to have some telepathic talent for me to breach its walls like Rafe had said. But it was a skill I had, and I was desperate, so I had to try to be more than anyone expected.

  I sent my…feelers out toward Ama. Willing her mind to be clear to me. Willing her thoughts into my head.

  Bad move. Bad, bad, bad move. It worked. Oh, yeah it worked. But Ama's mind was a twisted, thorny mess of horrific images and even more horrific urges.

  She was insensate with rage. How dare I try to defy her! An untrained witchling raised by filthy humans. Almost as dirty as the ones who hid me from her. She would hunt each human down and make them suffer for that. But first…

  All I could get out was a strangled, "No!"

  I tried. Dear God, I tried. I willed her intent to dissipate. I willed a wall of titanium steel to appear between us and her. I willed us out of this world and back into our safe, familiar realm again. I imagined clicking my heels three times and commanding my slippers to take us home.

  None of it worked.

  I had been kidding myself. I was useless and untrained.

  Ama was the All-Mother. The creator of the curses. The centre of the rot. I was nothing.

  Her magia hit Harlee in the chest, and the senior operative went sprawling.