“I didn’t ask you,” Viggo snapped, and for a second the scowling mask Hunter Black wore slipped and beneath it Anouk saw real hurt.
Viggo turned back to Anouk, eyes gleaming. “Do we have a deal?”
She didn’t answer. It sickened her to think of Cricket gazing at Viggo with adoring eyes, and all because of Anouk. Could she technically even do it? She’d never cast a love spell before, and they were difficult. But she’d heard Mada Vittora cast one; she knew the words to say and the ingredients to use, and Mada Zola could help her. Part of her almost longed to try.
“Forget it.” A voice came from the cellar stairs. “She won’t do it.”
Beau joined them. His fists were clenched and his face looked grim.
“How long have you been there?” Anouk asked.
“Long enough. Go to hell, Viggo. We wouldn’t do that to Cricket. Right, Anouk?”
Anouk didn’t answer.
Beau spun to her. “Right?”
She turned away from his hard gaze and those too-blue eyes that showed his clear conscience, so sure that it was his job to shelter her from the big scary world. Ever since Luc had disappeared, Beau had been trying to fill his shoes, but this was what Beau would never get: Luc understood that doing what was right and doing what was necessary were two different things.
Her heart was pounding. She gripped the metal grate before she could change her mind. “Get us into Castle Ides and have Hunter Black help us if anything goes wrong, and I’ll do it.”
Beau’s jaw dropped. “Anouk, you can’t do this.”
Oh, Beau. He couldn’t protect her from everything.
“Do we have a deal?” she asked Viggo.
“Oui.” Viggo reached his index finger through the narrow grate.
Anouk hesitated, then wrapped her own finger around his. A handshake—?or the closest they could manage—?between prisoner and captor.
Partners now.
“I need to gather some supplies,” she said. “We’ll have to work fast. We’re running out of time and it’s a long way back to Paris.”
* * *
“Before you say anything,” Anouk said at the top of the cellar stairs, holding up a hand to silence Beau, “I’m not really going to do it.”
The tense set to his jaw eased, but his fists were still clenched. “You said—”
“I said what he wanted to hear. He’ll get a spell, just not the one he wants.”
Beau didn’t look convinced, kept eyeing her as though she were a different person than the girl in a ruffled apron who’d baked him muffins with crumbled sugar on top, and Anouk rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I would never do that to Cricket. You know that, Beau. But we need Viggo to get into Castle Ides. And we need Hunter Black too. We can’t rely on Cricket to be the only one with real fighting skills if things go wrong.”
Beau folded his arms across his chest. “So, what, you’re going to get Cricket to pretend to love him?”
“Mon Dieu, no. She’s a terrible actress. I have a better idea, though I’ll need a wineglass and some of Petra’s blood. Where is everyone?”
“Outside. Zola wanted to close up the tunnel that Viggo dug before anything else could crawl through. Cricket’s in the garden. She convinced Zola to lend her a book of spells so she could practice destruction tricks on some poor sapling. She really enjoyed knocking Viggo out.”
“Good. She’ll be distracted for a few hours. Best she doesn’t know about this yet. And I need for you to take down all the paintings in the sitting room that show the interior of Castle Ides. We need views of every room, every entrance. Without blueprints, it’s the closest thing we have to a map.”
“You’re serious about this, then? Breaking into Castle Ides?”
“I’m serious about staying human.”
Beau looked at the murky line of moonlight that slashed across the floor. “We have twenty-four hours left. If this plan doesn’t work, and we’re trapped in the city when our time runs out . . .”