“We knew that much,” muttered Leo. Yet it was in his nature to try anyway.

“Then you know no mortal may enter.”

“Conversely,” Livia said, “I am not mortal.”

Anne held her breath as the ghost darted toward the vault. For this had been their intent, what they had planned beside the river in Richmond. When Lord Whitney had retrieved his soul, it had taken Livia’s magic to gain Zora entry into the vault. That spell had cost Livia much of her power, but now they had a simpler option. She herself would gain entrance into the vault, and secure Leo’s soul.

Yet when the ghost tried to pass across the threshold, she actually stumbled back. A look of bafflement crossed her face. She attempted to enter once more. Again, she met an invisible barrier. She stared down at her hands and body in confusion.

The geminus gave another ugly laugh. “Perhaps I ought to have made myself more clear. No human may enter the vault, be they living or dead. Ever since the Gypsy’s essence was smuggled into another vault, alterations have been made.”

Anne’s heart sank, and Leo bared his teeth in frustration.

The Roman was not deterred. “No solid surface has yet barred me,” she said, eyes hard and determined. “Not since my imprisonment between the realms. This night shall be no different.” She rushed toward the wall beside the open door, and passed right through.

Anne anxiously looked into the vault for Livia’s reappearance on the other side of the wall. The ghost did not materialize.

“Where is she?”

Livia appeared a moment later, emerging from the wall. Her face was set in a dark scowl. “All I find beyond that wall is a library. No vault. No souls. Merely useless books. If there is a way in, I cannot find it.”

As the geminus continued to laugh, Leo cursed, long and floridly, and even Livia looked crestfallen. Desolation was a crushing weight in Anne’s chest. For all their plans and hopes, for everything they had been willing to sacrifice, everything that had been lost—Leo’s soul still belonged to the Devil, and there was nothing any of them could do to get it back. He was lost. They had failed.

They could not fail.

“Almost admirable,” the geminus chuckled, wiping its eyes. “A fiasco, of course, but extremely inventive. ’Tis a shame that none of you shall serve my master. He would make excellent use of you.”

Another unearthly scream rattled the windows. From down the corridor came the sounds of the front door being shaken, heavy bodies throwing themselves against the wood. Glass shattered. Zora shouted out a warning, and the clang of Lord Whitney’s sword rang out. Demons howled, rage and bloodlust in their uncanny voices.

“Of course,” said the geminus, mockingly solicitous, “you are welcome to join your friends in their useless battle. But know that you fight for nothing. And once my master’s soldiers destroy your mortal body, your soul spends eternity in bitterest suffering.”

“Hers won’t,” said Leo, nodding toward Anne. “That is all that matters.” He drew a pistol and pointed it at the geminus’s heart. “I’ll take you to Hell with me.”

“Leo, no,” cried Anne.

The geminus tried to grab the weapon, but Leo knocked it back. It pressed against the wall, steeling itself for the death shot. The shot that would kill it, and Leo.

She must act. Resolve straightened her shoulders as she reached deep within herself, searching for the power she desperately needed. Fury and fear roused it, and she drew it forth, the bright blue energy within herself.

Shutting her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate, she seized the power and sent it forth in a blast. Anne stretched her hands out, guiding her magic. Harsh, cold wind poured out in a gale, the force so strong that Leo was knocked back against the far wall. Paintings toppled down with a crash.

Leo fought and kept himself upright. The walls groaned with the force of the tempest Anne unleashed. She had no doubt she could tear the house down to its very foundations.

“Anne,” Leo shouted. “Stop and get out of here! Before it’s too late.”

Demon screams could be heard above the roar of her storm, and the whole house shook—from her, from the massing beasts. But she would not relent, nor run. She had a purpose.

Anne stretched her hands toward the vault, guiding the tempest. Powerful wind swept to the open door ... and went right through. The storm met no barrier as it rushed through the doorway and across the threshold.

“No!” shrieked the geminus, yet it already was happening.

Her teeth bared, Anne fought to direct the wind. It poured into the vault, scouring it, rattling the shelves within, even tipping the heavy tables lining the middle of the chamber. Souls were caught up in the storm, picked up by the powerful winds so that they danced upon the air, glimmering and shining like fireflies. The sight almost distracted her with its beauty. Yet she could not waver from her purpose.

She shouted with effort as she forced the tempest to return to her. It felt like struggling with an entire herd of wild horses, her arms shaking, sweat filming her body. Anne pulled hard on the energy, calling upon every reserve of strength. The wind swirled through the vault and then, finally, rushed toward her.

Torrents of biting air churned out of the doorway, back into the corridor. As they battered her, souls also came flying out, borne aloft on the wind. The hallway filled with dozens and dozens of shining souls. Their radiance filled the corridor, spreading light.

The geminus gave a furious scream. It clawed at the air, attempting to grab the souls as they crossed the threshold. Yet they evaded the geminus’s grasp, flying away in all directions. Searching out their owners.

The final soul came spiraling out of the vault, gleaming brighter than the others. Instead of winging off to find its possessor, it stopped in front of Leo. Anne dropped her hands, and the tempest abruptly halted. Enervated, fascinated, she swayed on her feet as she watched Leo look wonderingly upon the soul. It bathed him in warm radiance. He gazed at the soul, awestruck, reverent, and reached out a shaking hand. Slowly, like a wary animal, the soul approached.

It was his soul.

All of the souls had been lovely, but Leo’s was so beautiful, so full of brilliance and possibility, tears gathered in her eyes.

Movement in the corner of her sight caught her attention. She turned to see the geminus leaping to intercept the soul.

Livia flung out her hand, and the geminus stumbled back, forced away by unseen magic. Though Leo winced from this impact, he remained standing, and held himself still as his soul drew nearer. Yet it hovered inches from his chest, as if uncertain.

“My vow to you,” Leo whispered, speaking to his own soul. “Never again will I give you away. I promise.”

Anne held her breath, waiting. She had done what she could. This moment belonged only to Leo and the soul he had relinquished. She had the distinct impression that the soul was assessing Leo, judging him. Seeing into the deepest part of him, where there could be no manipulation, no falsity. Only Leo, and the truth of his heart.

Leo, too, waited, his expression torn between hope and fear. He had never looked more vulnerable, and her own heart ached for him. As if sensing her emotion, his gaze found hers. This is because of you, his eyes said. Whatever comes afterward, it is you that made this possible.

With a sudden, darting movement, the soul shot forward. Right into Leo’s chest. He sucked in a breath, his whole body going rigid. Radiance filled him, an inner light that shone brilliantly. A smile of profound amazement and peace curved Leo’s mouth. Even as the light dimmed, the smile remained, and Anne felt the paths of tears tracing her cheeks.

“We’ve done it,” she murmured, awed.

He turned silver bright eyes to her. “You did it, Anne.” He drew himself up fully. “And I will thank you properly. Later.” Turning to the snarling geminus, he gave a predatory grin. “The gloves are finally off.”