I see my mistake written all over Ethan’s face before I go under again—the realization I can’t swim coupled with the same chilling resolve he had right before he stabbed me and shot Nadine.

My eyes sting under the water. His legs move toward me. I’m seconds away from losing the grip on my last breath when his fingers close on my shirt and yank me upward. All I can do is breathe when I break the surface. He fumbles for the key still clenched in my hand. And I have nothing left to fight him with—all my knives are stuck into the wall behind me, and the water has sapped my energy to the point where I’m about to let it take me.

His fingers pry at mine. I shift the key and sink the teeth into his palm.

He loses his grip on me, and I swallow water as I drop.

This time his hand closes around my neck as I surface, spewing water in his face.

He doesn’t flinch as it streams across his set mouth. His other hand yanks the key away.

He screams, his hand tightening around my neck. My vision blackens as I claw at his wrist.

“What did you do?” Rage shatters his features.

I can’t answer. There’s not enough air in my lungs to make words.

His other hand grasps my arm as he releases my neck. The key winks at the bottom of the tank.

I shake my head as I try to take air down my damaged throat.

“It won’t let me hold it,” he says. He assesses me. Calm replaces rage so quickly it’s like whiplash. He needs me again. “Go get it.”

His grip tightens, and I’m shaking my head as he forces me under. I fight it, thrashing, but his other hand finds the back of my head and holds it down. My hands hit the glass bottom and drift until I feel metal. The last of my air bubbles from my mouth as his hands pull me to the surface.

The water’s to his chin now. He fights through it, pushing us back toward the wall. He shoves me up it as the water slides into his mouth. “Hurry.”

I almost want to give up just so he’ll drown in here too. My limbs are ready to. They wobble as I grip the knives. It should be easier this time since they’re already placed in the wall, but I know it won’t be. I move, pushing the magic into my fingers so the water evaporates off the knives the second I touch them. I call so much of it, my own skin seems to melt, becoming one with the metal so it hurts to pull away and latch myself onto the next. I reach the top faster than I thought possible.