He seemed outraged by the thought. He looked at her and his gaze grew fierce. “But you . . . you’re different. You’re not plagued by disease. Viruses, bacteria, fungus, sickness, you’re immune to them all. You heal faster, you age slower. Your strength, speed, and agility are vastly superior to ours, you have powers we’ve never even imagined.” He sat forward in his chair, rested his elbows on his thighs, and threaded his fingers together. “I’m man enough to admit that your species is, for all intents and purposes, better than mine. But I’m also intelligent enough to foresee the inevitable decline of humanity inherent in that reality. It’s the most powerful universal law of them all: survival of the fittest. Even though we vastly outnumber you, evolution would eventually win. The Ikati would claw their way up to the top of the food chain.”

He leaned back. “Unless, of course, one of the species on a lower rung took them out before they could.”

Her laugh sounded insane, even to her own ears. “And so Sebastian Thorne single-handedly saves the human race.”

He shrugged, unapologetic. “Yes. Well, with help from the minions, of course.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question; how do I know you’ll keep your end of the bargain?”

He seemed pleased she was considering it.

Was she considering it? Was she only buying a few more precious seconds with Leander, even if he couldn’t see or hear her? What was she doing? She didn’t know. The universe was imploding inside her mind. All the stars were blinking out.

“I didn’t get to where I am in life by burning bridges, Jenna. I keep my promises. But beyond that . . . as I said before, I think you can tell when someone’s lying. I think with all your enhanced senses you just know. So look at my face. Look into my eyes. Listen to my voice.”

He leaned forward again, and this time his newscaster smile didn’t make an appearance. Solemnly, he said, “I promise you I will reunite you with your family, and allow you to live here in this suite, unharmed, in peace, for the remainder of all of your lives. If you or your husband die before your children, they will be left alone until they die of natural causes, or old age, however it is you normally die. You will never again want for anything; only the freedom to leave these rooms will be denied.”

He spoke the truth, or at least he ardently believed what he was saying.

And all she had to do to hold Leander and her children in her arms again was condemn each and every one of her species aside from them to death.

Her silence displeased him. He said, “Perhaps I can help you make up your mind.” In a quick, elegant motion, he snapped his fingers.

Behind him, the Oracle showed a swarm of guards enter Leander’s cell. They surrounded him, threw him down, began to beat him with fists and boots and billy clubs. He fought back—still so strong—but there were so many of them, and only one of him, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before they beat him to death.

The snarl of fury that ripped from her throat echoed through the room. She jumped to her feet and lunged at Thorne.

Jenna was frozen mid-lunge by a stinging pain in her arm that instantly paralyzed her. The room slipped sideways, and as she looked in horror down at the tiny silver dart sticking out of her bicep, she heard him say in a reasonable manner, “Why don’t I give you a few days to think about it. I’ll even be generous, and wait a week.” He smiled, and Jenna had never seen anything as soulless. “After that, the exterminations begin.” He pointed to the Oracle. “Beginning with him.”

Then the floor came up hard to catch her, and all the world went black.

THIRTEEN

The sound that slipped between Lumina’s chapped lips was a combination kill me groan and weak give me water plea for help. She sat up in bed, hand to her forehead, and concentrated on keeping the contents of her stomach down.

Memories of last night and Jack’s potent potato vodka came back with strobe light, gut-lurching clarity. The kill me groan enjoyed an encore.

“You’re awake.”

Lu glanced up to see Magnus leaning against the arched doorway of her bedchamber, watching her with an expression both concerned and strangely intense.

How long has he been there?

“Unfortunately, yes. Ugh.” She swallowed what felt like a mouthful of garbage and stuck out her tongue, repulsed by the taste in her mouth. She fought the unwelcome feeling she might not want to know exactly what had happened during the last few hours of her day yesterday, which at this point were engulfed in a black, throbbing fog of hurt.

Magnus pushed away from the wall and walked closer. “I told you that was rotgut vodka.”

Her answering groan made him chuckle. If she hadn’t been in so much pain, she would have done a double take and stared; it was the first time she’d heard him make a happy sound.

She liked it. She wanted to hear him do it again.

“Excuse me, but you’re the one who suggested it. You said, and I quote, ‘It will put you right in the head.’ Which would only make sense if by right you meant dementia? Or maybe a coma?”

As she’d hoped, Lu was rewarded with that chuckle. Low, deep, and wonderfully masculine, it sent a little thrill through her body, which unfortunately made her want to lean over and retch. She grimaced, cradling her stomach.

“I suppose I should’ve given you better warning. Jack is Irish on both parents’ sides; they don’t make alcohol for the faint of heart.”

“Or the faint of stomach, either.” Lu rubbed slow circles over her belly, eying the glossy fur coverlet on the bed, worried it might soon be ruined. She’d never had a hangover before in her life, and could imagine few things worse.

All right, she could imagine a few things worse, but not self-inflicted things.

“Is it really that bad?” Magnus crossed the room and stood over the bed, looking down at her with his brows pulled together, all traces of humor vanished. “Are you going to be sick?”

Lu had to slowly inhale and exhale a few times before she could answer. “I think so.” She nodded, which made the room lurch in a really bad way. “Uh-oh.”

In a swift, sudden movement, Magnus knelt beside the bed. He said, “Look at me.”

She did, and found him staring at her in intense concentration. He didn’t move, touch her, or say anything else, but her queasy stomach and pounding head abruptly settled, and the fatigue, dry mouth, and allover body aches that accompanied them were just as suddenly gone, too. From one second to the next, she went from feeling sick to feeling great.

“Huh,” said Lu. “Okay, that’s weird.”

Magnus just stared at her. She swallowed, stretched her neck one way then the other, and sat up straighter, inhaling a deep breath.

He said, “How do you feel now?” and she slanted him a look.

“You did something.” Her soft accusation didn’t faze him. Strangely, though, he’d begun to turn a little . . . green. Realization hit her like a thunderbolt, and Lu gasped. “Magnus!”

He winced, closed his eyes. “Not so loud, please.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, making a grumble of distress in his throat.

“You . . . you take away pain? That’s your Gift?”

His full lips twisted. He cracked open an eye and looked at her. He said, “One of them. This particular one has a few unfortunate side effects,” then his face crumpled. “Jesus, woman, exactly how much did you drink last night?”