I’d often wondered if my strange hunger recently wasn’t for food so much as power—power I could no longer access. I felt like a druggie who had broken the physical dependency, but was still mentally enslaved. It made me snappish, especially on days like today, when one of those small, triangular bottles would have felt really good in my gloved hand.

I could almost feel the weight of it, strangely heavy in spite of its small size. Could almost see its golden light, filtered through the old amber glass with its striations of bubbles. Could almost taste the thin green liquid inside, bitter and herbal-y on the tongue, but like fire in the belly. Delicious, glorious fire that turned into power, so much and so bright, that I could—

Agnes’s smug look increased, and I scowled at her.

“I’m not taking anything,” I repeated. I’d fought off the cravings after a hell of a battle, but everyone still thought I was an inch away from relapsing. It was maddening!

Although not as much as when Agnes’ eyes suddenly widened, and her lip curled enough that I could see an incisor. “No, you’re not, are you?” she said. “You don’t need it. Not when you’re borrowing power from that vampire.”

I didn’t say anything.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Gertie said. “She fixed that problem.”

I didn’t say anything some more.

The gimlet-eyed gaze hardened. “Didn’t you?”

“It’s… being handled.”

“Handled?” Agnes echoed. “You should have killed him by now!”

“I can’t kill him—”

“Then bring him here and I’ll do it for you, if you’re so squeamish. But either way, he dies—”

“You don’t give me orders,” I snapped, because Agnes could get under the skin of a saint, which I’d never claimed to be.

But then another artic blast hit us, causing me to forget to be mad, and to shudder and sink even further into my coat. It didn’t help much. Damn it, English wool could stand up to a blizzard, yet I felt chilled to the bone.

I wanted to get out of here!

“How is it handled if you are still bound to him by that nefarious spell?” Gertie demanded, as if she hadn’t even felt it. “How is it handled if he can borrow your power whenever he likes?”

“He isn’t doing that anymore—”

“He doesn’t need to if you are carrying him wherever he wants to go!” Agnes said, with more perception than I liked. “That’s it, isn’t it? He was one of those you took back in time!”

And now I had two accusing stares pinning me down.

“It’s not—that isn’t—you don’t understand—”

“I understand perfectly. You’re in love with him,” Agnes sneered. “That’s why you won’t do your duty—”

“I’m dating a war mage!”