As was the temptation to kiss him again.

If he smelled enticing, he’d tasted even better, and Lumina found her gaze straying over and over to his mouth. Those full, sensual lips became a sort of beacon, drawing her attention any time he came near. When he spoke, she was mesmerized, just watching them move, sometimes losing the shape of the words altogether so that she was left with a kind of muted pleasure, his teeth and lips and tongue moving silently while she lost herself in the memory of how he’d tasted. Of the way he’d reacted when she touched her mouth to his. Of the need she’d felt surge through him, into her, another memory she lingered on in her private moments, the ache of his unfulfilled desire.

Her own desire for him was huge, real, and frightening.

She’d promised herself she’d never get close again, she’d never again risk another person’s safety for her sake, and she’d meant it. But every moment she spent near him became a kind of torture, because no matter how hard she tried to block it out, the animal inside her knew what she really wanted, and was far less self-controlled.

The animal inside her was greedy, a writhing, hissing beast that demanded satisfaction.

Lu knew that kiss had been a touchstone. It had changed them both. For better or worse remained to be seen.

“. . . approach through the southern Czech border,” Magnus was now saying to Demetrius and Hawk, both of whom were intently studying the holographic map Beckett had projected above the center of the rectangular Assembly table. Beckett had been dismissed after setting it up, not only because the Assembly was always held in closed session, but also because Lu could tell he was getting on Magnus’s last nerve. Beckett had been shadowing him, dogged as a bloodhound, insisting he should accompany them on their trip, regaling Magnus with reason after reason why he’d be an asset in their quest to extract Lumina and Honor’s mother from the IF prison.

Magnus, naturally, had flatly refused. Flatly meaning with a bite as friendly as a crocodile’s.

“Why not go in the way you came out?” asked Hawk, frowning at the map.

“I never take the same route twice. Too risky. Especially now: Enforcement’s offering a huge reward for any eyewitness information from Thornemas Day.”

“Christmas Day,” Lu softly corrected from her seat at the far end of the table. Demetrius and Hawk looked at her. Magnus’s head angled in her direction, but he didn’t lift his gaze from the map. He wore the hooded black jacket again, so his face was cast in shadow, but she noted his shoulders, just slightly, tensed.

You think there’s an old man with white hair in the sky looking down and making hash marks next to your name in a book?

His words came back to haunt her. She wondered, looking at his stiffening posture, if they haunted him, too.

She wondered, for the hundredth time, what had happened to him to make him so . . . him.

He went on as if she hadn’t spoken. “I think we’ll have to leave the copter as soon as we cross the Channel and continue on foot; security will have been significantly stepped up. Patrols will be tighter, including air patrols. Beckett’s intel suggests that anywhere east of Antwerp and south of Amsterdam will be rough going.”

“But that’s exactly where you’re headed!” protested Demetrius, drawing a line with his finger from the English Channel to New Vienna.

His voice grim, Magnus said, “Correct.”

“There’s another way you could get in. One that doesn’t require a helicopter.”

This from Honor, who sat beside Lu with her trademark pissed-off expression. They’d had an epic argument about the pros and cons of her staying to guard the colony versus joining Magnus and Lu on their hunt as she’d wanted to, and eventually—after a small earthquake that dislodged quite a few of the older, larger stalactites from the cave roof—she’d relented.

Barely.

Now she glanced Lu’s way, with a small, knowing smile on her lips.

“No,” said Magnus, with enough volume that it echoed off the walls.

“Forget it,” said Lu simultaneously. The thought of flying over Europe as a dragon with Magnus straddling her back held all kinds of weird connotations.

Honor shrugged, then began inspecting her fingernails with interest. Coward.

Call me that one more time, thought Lu, reddening, and the next time we see Beckett, I’ll roast off all your clothes.

Honor inhaled a sharp breath, and glared at her.

Lu glared back. Yes. I figured out how to do it. Don’t test me.

You are such a bitch!

Call the kettle black much, pot?

Stop it!

This new, unexpected voice brought Lu up short. She looked at Magnus, who looked back at her with steel in his eyes, the first time he’d made eye contact with her since their kiss. Beside her, Honor glanced back and forth between the two of them with narrowed eyes.

What? Honor asked suspiciously, and that’s when Lu realized her sister couldn’t hear Magnus. His voice was for her, and her alone, which made her strangely satisfied. And more than a little confused.

Nothing. Lu lowered her gaze to the tabletop, gnawing the inside of her cheek.

“Jack, can you set us up with some of your people? We’ll need at least five nights’ lodging, maybe six, on our way into the city.” Magnus continued aloud, his voice controlled, his attention back on the map, as if nothing at all had happened. Lu might have wondered at his control if two of the words he’d just spoken hadn’t jumped up and seized her around the neck.

Five. Nights.

The tabletop became incredibly fascinating. She examined every minute scratch and chip and flow of the grain, willing herself not to linger on those words, or on their meaning, or on the myriad possibilities that lay therein. Beneath the convenient cover of her hair, her ears grew hot.

“You got it,” replied Jack. “And for the way out? I assume you’ll want different places?”

Magnus paused before he spoke, so long that Lu glanced up at him. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” he said darkly. His gaze flicked to hers. Finding her staring back at him, he turned his head away, but not before she saw the strange resignation in his eyes. Something about it made her skin crawl.

Carefully, she raised one mental wall, and lowered another, unsure if this exercise would work.

What is it, Magnus?

His lips thinned. Beside her, Honor showed no sign she’d heard Lu’s question, so Lu kept her face carefully neutral, her gaze in the middle distance, focused on nothing.

I really wish you wouldn’t do that, came Magnus’s curt response, his face still turned away.

Lu’s ears burned hotter. Tell me what’s bothering you and I promise I won’t do it again.

Jack said, “All right. I’ll get on it. I should have names and addresses for you within a few hours.” Among murmured good-byes, she and Hawk left the Assembly room, leaving Demetrius in all his shaved-head, leather-bound, tattooed glory standing in silent contemplation of the map.

It bothers me that you can do it at all.

Lu sent Magnus a sidelong look. That’s not an answer.

If you had any respect for me, Lumina, it would be the only answer you’d need.

Both the words and the acidity of his tone floored her. Her face went bright red. Mortified, she flung up a wall between them, shutting him out.

“You’ll need clothes,” said Honor quietly, not looking at her. “You can take whatever of mine you need.” She seemed unusually subdued. Somber, even. “And we should test your Gifts, at least a little more before you go. We should practice. We don’t even know if you can—”

“There’s no time,” said Magnus. “As soon as Jack has those names for us, we’re gone. Every minute we stay here is one more minute we risk the lives of everyone in that prison. And everyone here.” His eyes cut to Lu’s. He seemed about to say more, but then he turned to Demetrius and spoke in a lowered voice. “Anything you need to tell me?”