When I turned — the world moving at a slow and agonising pace — I found Harlee on her back, arms and legs akimbo, her dead, sightless eyes staring up at nothing.

  Rafe

  Iwatched it all come apart. I watched all hope disappear before my eyes. I watched and I did nothing, bespelled to remain where I stood and observe whatever sick game Ama had in store for Catalin.

  But Catalin had surprised the All-Mother. Whatever spell had been used to keep me immobile did not affect the witchling. I couldn't for a moment believe Ama had chosen to let her have free reign of the place. But somehow, Catalin was free to attempt a jailbreak.

  Only, it failed.

  I watched it all, my heart thudding painfully in my chest, my muscles screaming with strain as I attempted to physically break something that had no physical form. I knew better, but seeing Catalin attempt to save her friend and the boy-witch made me desperate to provide some sort of distraction to aid her.

  But all I could do was pull a muscle as I fought something far more powerful than physical chains.

  Catalin let out a grunt of air, a small wretched sob followed, and then she was on her knees beside the dead human, gingerly touching her face, searching for a pulse in the neck, tears already running down her ashen cheeks.

  The boy stood behind her, resignation and fear on his face. He knew it was over. I wasn't sure Catalin did yet. She was just heartbroken she had failed.

  Oh, maitia, I thought. I'm sorry. For you, for me, for everything.

  Catalin's blazing blue eyes snapped up to my face. Had she heard that? Then with painstaking effort, she climbed to her feet, her hands fisted, her cheeks moist with tears, her eyes illuminating everything as if a ten-thousand-watt bulb had been switched on behind her irises. She turned to face her fate.

  "No words?" Ama asked in a sickening tone of voice. Did the witch not realise how close she was right at this moment to a horrible fate?

  I didn't think Catalin could achieve much without sacrificing herself. But I did believe it was possible to inflict harm when consumed with so much heartache. I could almost feel Catalin's emotions from where I stood, several feet away. How anyone could miss the tenuous hold she had on her power right now was beyond me.

  Catalin was the proverbial bomb about to go off.

  "You broke our bargain, witchling," Ama went on blindly. Or arrogantly. No one had ever hurt Ama before. She believed herself immune to such. "Your human could have gone free, but punishment must be observed when one steps out of line, don't you agree?"

  Catalin said nothing, but if she could read my mind as easily as I suspected she just had — and wasn't that something? — I was sure she saw through Ama's lies as well. Her human friend had had very little chance of leaving here unharmed. At the very least, her memory would have been wiped, and a memory wipe of that magnitude leaves marks behind.

  Harlee Forster would have been changed in one way or another. She would have been harmed, there was no doubt about that.

  "Now, let us clear the room and talk plainly," Ama continued. She snapped her fingers and Nerea approached. "Take the boy to the creche and have him fitted with lotu."

  The bracelets would not be the same as mine, but they would be restrictive. Only juvenile witches wore them. Once a witch matured, they were indoctrinated and the lotu were no longer needed.

  Not so for banpiro.

  The boy took a step back, closer to Catalin. He jerked his face toward her, searching her eyes. I knew she was conversing with him telepathically. Making promises she could not keep, reassuring him at the last hour. It was part of who she was. She cared, she felt responsible.

  So different from indoctrinated witches. So different from any of our kind.

  The witchling nodded his head, violet blazing from his eyes. He turned to face Nerea, lips curled, snarl on his tongue. Such a brave young man. Impotent but brave.

  A wolf howled somewhere in the distance. Another answered it. The eerie sound lent the moment gravitas. The howl was sad, not excited as I would have expected one of Ama's dogs to be. Even those who worshipped the witches thought this moment heartwrenching.

  We are all fools for the devil.

  Catalin looked over at me again, her brow furrowed. But soon her attention was back on the All-Mother. It did not pay to forget she was there. Ama was a snake that would strike when you least expected it.

  In short order, Nerea had removed the boy from the room. The place felt smaller with his absence. His magia must have been strong to give that impression. It would not be strong enough to save him.

  This was it. We had failed. The human was dead. The boy was lost. And now Catalin would be indoctrinated. At that moment, I had never felt so lost, so alone, so desolate.

  It was over. To have come so close and to have ultimately failed. Defeat tasted of old blood and sickness; a rot infecting the body.

  "It is time to face your future, witchling," Ama announced. "Usually, I make this as painless as I can manage, but you have annoyed me this evening and shall suffer the full extent of indoctrination."

  "Lay a finger on me and I will magia the fucking thing off." Even now, even at the end, Catalin's fire had her creating interesting sentence structures.

  I wanted to laugh. I wanted to cry. Instead, I started to think of ways to protect myself. There was little hope left. But after centuries of waiting for the right moment to strike, I was not yet ready to give up.

  Strange. Hope was lost but the will to keep fighting was still strong. Was that Catalin's doing? Did she inspire me to do such?

  "I am tiring of your defiance, witchling," Ama snapped. "The sooner you realise there is no recourse, the sooner you will feel no more pain."

  "Like a mindless zombie," Catalin snapped. "Good pep talk, Ama. Really shows your leadership skills in their best light."

  Why did she do this? Why fight?

  I knew why. Because Catalin Aguirre would never give up.

  But once indoctrinated, she'd have no choice. My heart broke in two, then crumbled even further. I can't help you, Catalin. You won't win this.

  She didn't look at me, but her shoulders stiffened. Somehow, knowing she was in my mind, gave me a measure of peace. I had been sent to watch her. To assess her magical abilities. I'd done my job, harming her more than she could have ever imagined. And I'd also had an ulterior motive. We'd formed a pact together, and then I'd taken it a step further and formed a maisu/morroi bond with her w=as well. Catalin had not understood either union; I had manipulated her into them. Done so without a second thought. And yet, knowing that she knew this now somehow freed me.

  It was a selfish thought. My well-being was in no way as important to her as her own. I knew this. But I could not help feeling relief that there were no secrets between us now.

  And just as quickly, that relief was replaced with fear. Because Catalin was about to become Ama's and not mine. What would she tell the All-Mother about me?

  Trust, remember? Catalin's voice in my head surprised me, but Ama's spell held me immobile. To insert her thoughts into my mind was a step above simple telepathy. Reading me was one thing, conversing with a non-telepath was something else.

  Evidence would indicate you can't trust me, I thought.

  We have a pact and a bond. Trust me.

  The indoctrination process is out of your hands.

  Let me worry about that.

  You cannot fight it.

  Watch me.

  Defiance does not mean success.

  Arguing with me as I face off against an evil witch is not helpful in the slightest.

  Catalin.

  Rafe. Said — thought — with such bemused frustration that I almost laughed.

  But nothing about what was happening was funny.

  Ama glared at Catalin and then lifted her hand toward her. She didn't need to. It was all for show. Or maybe she saw Catalin do it earlier with the doors and thought to imitate her. There was something about Catalin Aguirre that even the All-Mother was not immune to.

  Then, in a burst of blue light from her eyes, Catalin sent the All-Mother sprawling.

  It happened so quickly that none of the witches left in the room with us reacted at first. And then everything changed.

  Catalin fought. She screamed and lashed out; both physically and magically. Her power was getting stronger the more she used it and no one could question her willpower. But it was all in vain.

  Ten witches against one was too much.

  Ten witches and the All-Mother was just insane.

  Catalin ended up on the cold stone floor; beaten, broken and bloody. Ama stood over her, breathing slightly heavier than would be expected; indicating the effort she'd had to expend to win this confrontation.

  Such power. Such beauty. Such a waste.

  How close I'd come to success. How much we could have achieved together. I lowered my head, unable to witness what was coming.

  But even that small reprieve was denied me when Ama strengthened the spell that bound me. My head was jerked up, and my eyes were directed toward Catalin's crumpled body. I could not look away. She would not let me.

  "Once indoctrinated, I believe I shall have you bred first," Ama stated, walking unchallenged toward her prey. "Raphael can watch. He might enjoy seeing you punished for your insubordination. He and I can celebrate your demise afterwards. I'm sure his blood will be up and taste delicious because of it."

  She thought I still despised Catalin. She thought I wanted this.

  Then why bind me?

  Because the All-Mother was nothing if not cautious. She believed me to be hers, but she covered her bases just in case. I could use that. I let my magia surge, making my eyes shine violet as I met Ama's hungry gaze. She licked her lips and smiled.

  I'm so sorry, maitia, I thought to Catalin. You can protect your mind with your magia. It is your only hope of surviving her treatment.

  What does 'maitia' mean? a tiny, broken voice asked inside my head.

  I could give her that. A small thing that would perhaps mean nothing.

  My love, I thought. Sweetheart. It is a term of endearment.

  Am I dear to you, Raphael?

  Precious.

  I won't break, she promised.

  They all do against Ama.

  Trust me.

  I do, but not in this. We are all fools for the devil, Catalin. We play by her rules and no other's.

  Huh, I heard her murmur. Fancy that.

  I had no idea what she meant by that, and it was too late to ask her.

  Ama placed her hand on Catalin's head and started chanting.

  Catalin squirmed, but it was all she could manage. Then in a burst of air, she shouted, "There's more of them out there!"

  It took a second or two for me to work out what she meant. More what? Who? Then it hit me. More unclaimed. More of the hidden, of the ezkutuan.

  Ama hesitated.

  "How do you know this?" she demanded.

  "I can hear them, feel them." That had to be a lie. Perhaps she could hear them, I wasn't sure. But Catalin had given me no reason to think she could feel them like some magical divining rod.

  But if she could? Yes, this might work.

  "How many more?" Ama asked.

  "I can't give you numbers. I just know there's more and I can find them. The NCB can find them. SOG can find them. Let me go and I'll work with my team to bring them to you."

  I held my breath. I think everyone present held theirs as well. Even the wolves outside the castle were quiet.

  "Your freedom for their capture," Ama mused.

  "Yes," Catalin agreed, too quickly.

  "I'm not sure I can trust you, but you do present an interesting possibility. I let you go back to your…SOG and you use them and your talents to find me more ezkutuan. The hidden have remained so for too long. Yes, I could see the benefits of such an arrangement."

  "Then we have a deal? A pact?"

  No, Catalin. No.

  She didn't answer me.

  "We don't need a pact, witchling." And then Ama's eyes flared a vibrant purple and she chanted an ancient phrase of doom.

  Catalin's back arched, her mouth opened on a searing scream, and the flesh on her arms and neck burned with bright white light as the mark of The Involition appeared where once had only been unblemished cream.

  The mark of the curse.

  No! I shouted inside my head. No!

  But it was too late. The blue in Catalin's eyes faded and was replaced with violet. The dead trees and hanging pentagrams on her arms blazed with a sickly light, sealing her fate.

  Sealing hers. Mine. Everybody's.

  Cat

  Fractured light. Screeching sounds. Heat. Ice. Pain.

  Agony. Agony! AGONY!

  Bile, nausea. Tingling fingers.

  Noise. Voices. Want. Need.

  Blood.

  Mine. Mine! MINE!

  Pain. Noise. Can't think. Burning eyes. Aching stomach.

  Back breaking.

  Bend over and take it like the bitch you are.

  Bite me!

  Of course, banpiro. What else are you good for?

  Light. Noise. Sound.

  Jagole, you shall go with her. Watch her.

  All-Mother. Anger. Rage. Pain.

  Agony. Agony! AGONY!

  Screaming.

  Your cover can be extended to this NCB of hers. Watch her.

  Light. Fractured light. It hurts!

  Tell me everything.

  Silent screams. Throat aching. Agony.

  Like that. Harder. Fuck me like you mean it.

  Bent spine. Dead heart. Aching.

  Oh, oh, oh, yes!

  Aching.

  Your body is mine. Your blood is mine. Do not forget it!

  Hatred. Burning hatred. Burning.

  Agony. Agony! AGONY!

  Catalin!

  Fight it, Cat. Build walls.

  How?

  Light. Sound. Too much.

  Who am I? What am I?

  Maitia!

  Sweetheart.

  Agony!

  No more!

  The room came into focus; slowly at first and then, as if my mind and body knew danger lurked nearby, everything became clear in a flash of blinding light.

  I shielded my face from the chandeliers overhead, panting for breath; aching. The only part of me that no longer ached was my fingers. They'd stopped tingling. The message had been delivered.

  Watch out for the evil witch.

  Gotcha. Just a bit too late.

  I rolled over with a groan and hugged the stone floor.

  Right in front of me lay Harlee. Dead. Gone.

  I closed my eyes and sucked in air. My knuckles ached where I fisted my hands. I'd failed.

  At everything.

  I pushed myself up. Rafe watched me from several feet away. His face was wary. Violet shone from his eyes.

  Violet.

  I glanced down at my hand but the tint of colour reflected from my eyes onto my skin was more blue than violet. I needed a mirror.

  I didn't really give a fuck right then.

  "Your eyes are changing back," Rafe said, a hint of something other than wariness now in his voice, on his face. "They're blue again."

  I said nothing. He narrowed his gaze and cocked his head, and then in a flash he was beside me, lifting my arm for inspection.

  "The tattoo, it's changed too." Now he sounded excited. "Catalin, the dead trees, the pentagrams. They're gone."

  I looked down at what he was seeing. Ama's nasty witch mark had disappeared and in its place were wildflowers and pretty glowing pentagrams. Nothing dead. Nothing creepy. But still…

  "Hide them," Rafe said urgently. He glanced around the throne room, but we seemed to be alone. Still, anyone could be watching.

  "How?" I whispered.

  "Look in my mind."

  I did and saw how Rafe could hide his but didn't. How Giordano would have hidden his as well, I was guessing.

  I followed the…instructions and watched as my tattoos faded.

  "Handy," I said, feeling numb.

  Fingers stroked my cheek.

  Fuck me like you mean it.

  I closed my mind off, shut myself off from Rafe's head. If any of that had been real, I didn't want to confirm it. It hadn't all been Ama's voice, of course. Other witches had featured in my horror movie indoctrination reel. It might have all been a hallucination.

  Maybe.

  "What now?" I asked.

  "She's agreed to you working with the Special Operations Group of the National Central Bureau to find the ezkutuan."

  "And you're to watch me."

  "Yes." Not hallucinations, then.

  I felt sick to my stomach. Turning away, my eyes landed on Harlee again. I wanted to howl in outrage, wrap myself up in my heartbreak.

  "Catalin."

  I turned back. I couldn't stop myself. His voice. The connection we shared. Maisu/morroi. Could I trust him?

  Could he trust me?

  Fuck this world.

  "You're still you," he said.

  "You think so?"

  "In every way it counts. The bond. It's still there."

  "Shouldn't it be?"

  He shrugged. "Ama is powerful and the curses she created are deadly."

  "And we all play the fool for her."

  "Yes."

  "Well, I'm nobody's fool, Raphael."

  "I can see that."

  I looked back at Harlee. Sweet, dimwitted Harlee. Who wasn't dim at all. She threw everyone off balance with her sweetness and idiocy but behind it all was an agent worthy of being called elite.

  "Make her like you," I said. The words surprised me. Surprised him, too.

  Rafe sucked in a breath. "It's not that simple." At least, he gave me the courtesy of answering me straight. "It requires an Involition witch's magia."

  "I'm an Involition witch now," I said, numbly. I was, wasn't I? I touched my arm, where the tattoo had changed.

  What was I? Who was I?

  "There's more to it," Rafe said. "Aside from the fact that we may not be alone here for long."

  "What more?" I demanded.

  "She will be outside The Involition. Not indoctrinated. Uncursed. Subject to everything a free vampire would be. The sun would burn her. You would have to hide her from Ama and Ilya, and any others sent our way. She would be yours; connected to you as the witch who turned her."