The door slams into the rack with more force this time, dislodging a few plates and sending them crashing to the floor. Ash and I don’t look back, we just run—through the kitchen, across the sticky floor of the pub, and out into the dim alley. The moment the night air hits my face I shudder, not because of the cold but because we were only seconds away from being trapped.

We run through the crowded alley, attracting way more attention than is smart. I look over my shoulder before we turn into the broader cobblestoned street, but the men from the pub haven’t emerged yet. I push my legs harder, weaving around the drunk crowds and late-night shoppers.

The instant the car comes into sight, I find an extra burst of energy. Ash clicks the keys and I grab the cold metal handle, but before I can pull the door open, pain suddenly radiates from my shoulder, like a bite from a horsefly or a bee sting.

“Ow,” I say, my hand reaching for the burning sensation. My fingers find a thin metal shaft and I look down. There, lodged in my shoulder, is a blow dart. Ash stops dead in his tracks and turns back to me, registering the dart and immediately searching for the attacker. Over his shoulder I catch a glimpse of dirty-blond hair…Logan! I grab at the car door, but it swims and shimmers in front of me. I try to call out for help, but the words gurgle and drift away from me. My legs wobble and I take one lurching step forward….

“If you even think about using that blade, I will shove one of your horseshoes so far up your…,” says a fading voice that I recognize but can’t quite place. My vision goes dark and all of a sudden I’m falling.

Chapter Sixteen

SLOWLY THE ROOM comes into focus—the cream-colored fabric of the couch underneath my cheek, a coffee table, a fireplace, a faded navy-blue-and-red antique rug on a wood floor, a couple of armchairs, and a heavy writing desk. The simple decor and the medieval-esque antiques remind me of the Academy, but the room is lighter and airier. I push myself up into a seated position and there’s a sharp pain in my head, making yesterday’s hangover seem like a mild ache.

I rub my forehead and all of a sudden I remember the dart. I stand up fast, looking for Logan, Ash, and anything that will explain where I am. The pain in my head increases tenfold. “Damn it,” I breathe through clenched teeth.

“Better sit back down and drink that god-awful concoction Ash made for you.”

For a split second I think I’m hallucinating. I thought I heard her voice last night, but the dart knocked me out so quickly I wasn’t certain. “Aarya?”