“I mean that, Patrick. I will demand your word on it. Whatever I choose, Olivia will never know that I had a choice. Correct?”

“You have my word.”

“Then cure her.”

No! The word echoed in my head, but I couldn’t move, no matter how hard I struggled, fighting against the prison of my body.

You son of a bitch, Patrick. You goddamned—

“I wish I could,” Patrick said. “Sadly, I cannot. Nor do I know anything that would set you free. It was a hypothetical.”

A thud. A gasp and a hard thump, and then Patrick, wheezing as if struggling for breath. “While I applaud your reflexes, Gabriel, I might suggest that it’s unwise to target me with them.”

Gabriel’s voice came low, razor-edged. “As it is unwise to target me with your games, Patrick. Particularly if they involve Olivia.”

“I see that.” A grunt, as if Patrick was pulling himself up off the floor. “I apologize for the trick. I believe I did pose it as a hypothetical, and if you misunderstood—”

I shot upright so fast I started falling. Gabriel’s reflexes saved me from that ignoble fate, though I might wish he’d caught me by the arm or the shoulders instead of grabbing me by the collar, leaving me dangling like a kitten. A choking kitten. He released me fast enough, letting me settle upright onto the sofa.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Fine.” I looked around, getting my bearings. Seeing Patrick watching, I got to my feet. “I think we should leave now.”

“I would agree.”

Gabriel stood between me and Patrick, as if blocking him, while I rose and started for the door.

“Wait,” Patrick said. “We need to discuss—”

“Nothing,” I said. “We need to discuss nothing.”

“I can explain the spina bifida. It’s—”

“One of the side effects of fae blood. One of many, apparently. Now, if you’ll excuse us . . .”

“I believe I can shed more light on the subject and what may have happened with your parents.”

“No, thank you,” I said. “I’ll find my answers elsewhere.”

“I can help with Gabriel’s case.”

That slowed my steps, and even when Gabriel murmured, “Keep going,” and I knew he was right, I couldn’t help myself. I turned to Patrick.

“That’s what Gabriel and I were discussing when you were recuperating,” he said. “While I don’t have any answers, I do have a few ideas. Leads, as you’d say. I could pursue them, if you’d like.”

As he said the words, perhaps he realized how they sounded—he’d only help free Gabriel if I agreed to talk. More likely it was the sudden surge of blood pressure turning my face an unhealthy shade of red that made him quickly retract with, “I will help either way, of course. But I’d like to discuss this as well.”

“No,” Gabriel said. “We don’t need your help. Olivia?”