ROSS HADN’T KNOWN ANYTHING ABOUT THE NIX, AND he was pretty damned freaked out to learn she’d been under his nose—and in his bed—for several days. It was enough to make a guy swear off nymphs for good…or at least for a few weeks. The Luther Ross Poltergeist School for Nymphs was closing its doors until the Nix was captured, and in the meantime, its headmaster was packing his bags. As for those poltergeist lessons, the subject never came up in front of Kristof…thankfully.

“Trsiel has been here,” the middle Fate said as soon as we appeared. “He has some concerns about Kristof’s involvement.”

“And didn’t waste any time voicing them,” Kristof muttered.

“We believe he may have a point.” She lifted a hand against Kris’s protest. “Hear us out. This Nix, having now met Eve, clearly feels this is personal, and we fear she may lash out at Eve by hurting someone close—”

My gut went cold. “Savannah. Oh, my God.”

Kristof’s head shot up, eyes wide with alarm. The Fate lifted both hands this time.

“To go after Savannah, the Nix would need to know who you are, and what is important to you. She’s a demi-demon. She has no patience for that—not when she’s already found one way to hurt you.”

I saw the Nix whipping Kristof toward that open portal, felt my gut go cold again. One look my way at that moment, and she’d know exactly how to get to me.

“While I appreciate your concern, ladies,” Kristof murmured. “I believe that, ultimately, the risk is mine to accept or decline.”

The oldest Fate shot in. “Is it?”

Kris snuck a glance my way. “Well, of course Eve can voice her opinion, but if I feel I can help, I will.”

“If that Nix opens another portal and tries to toss you into it, I’m sure Eve will say, ‘That was his decision,’ and let you go while she captures the Nix.”

Kristof looked at me again. “Very well. I’ll step aside. But if you need me, Eve—”

Before he could finish, the Searchers whisked him away.

It turned out that the Fates didn’t know a way for me to contain the Nix, so I used Trsiel’s code and teleported into a room that looked as if it had been carved out of pearl, with iridescent walls that glimmered with streaks of pink and blue. The wall looked as hard and solid as pearl, but felt like loosely wadded silk. As I stepped back, my feet sank into what felt like plush carpet, yet the floor appeared to be made of the same material as the walls. From somewhere came the softest strain of music, almost an undercurrent of the air itself.