Grey
The next day, I sat at my desk, staring at an accounts’ book but not seeing the figures. My primary goal was to wait for the signal that Anton’s man was contacting Christoph Venderklein. Once that happened, I could force Venderklein to give Carrow’s name to the kidnapper.
The mere idea of it made me ill, even though I had hardly any memories of her at all. Their loss felt like a severed limb, confusing and terrible.
When I’d chosen this, I knew it was the right thing to do.
But it was terrible.
And this plan . . .
It was so dangerous. But it was smart. Carrow was strong and could take care of herself. She wanted to do this, which meant that I needed to trust her. It wasn’t my place to stop her, anyway. And there was no way the kidnapper would risk trying to take me, so I couldn’t even trade places.
It will be fine.
The plan was a good one. She’d be surrounded by dozens of people who had her back. The entire Witches’ Guild, in fact.
I needed to let go of this stupid concern.
Finally, the damned charm buzzed in my pocket.
Thank fates.
I pulled out the mirror and looked into it, spotting Venderklein standing at the door, speaking to a man with red eyes.
One of Anton’s, definitely.
A moment later, Christoph shut the door on the man and turned back to the room, moving toward a coat he’d hung on the peg by the wall. He was getting dressed to go out, no doubt to find the appropriate target for Anton.
It was my cue.
I stood, leaving the room. I nodded at Miranda as I strode out into the afternoon light, turning to head toward Hellebore Alley. It wasn’t terribly far from my tower, and by the time I reached it, Christoph was likely out on the street.
I turned down the dark road and moved swiftly past the shops, headed down Nightshade Lane toward Christoph’s flat. I was about twenty yards away when I spotted the slender man hurrying toward me, his head bent low.
I ducked into a darkened nook before he saw me, slipping on my leather gloves. I’d have to touch him, and the idea sent a frisson of distaste through me. When he passed, his head was still bent low as he muttered to himself. I reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him inside.
I clapped a hand over his mouth to silence him, grateful for the glove I wore, and forced his head up so that his gaze met mine. “Do not make a sound.”
My magic wrapped around him, making his eyes go blurry and his muscles slightly slack.
“That’s it.” I removed my hand and propped him up against the wall.
He stared back at me.
“What did Anton’s man ask you for?” I asked.
“They want a seer whose gift works by touching objects.”
Carrow had that talent. Ice streaked through my veins.
Was it coincidence, or did they really want her? For a moment, I debated changing the plan. I couldn’t give him Carrow’s name.
I shook myself. No. I’d made a promise. And we had a good plan. More than that, Carrow was strong. She would be okay.
I held his haze with my own and spoke, the words feeling like glass in my throat despite the fact that I was honor-bound to say them. “You will tell them that a supernatural named Carrow Burton has that gift. She will be found tonight at an outdoor party at the Witches Guild tower. There will be many opportunities to catch her alone and in the dark.”
The words made bile rise in my throat, and I vowed that I would be there to stop the kidnapper before he laid so much as a finger on Carrow.