Jim bounced off the wall, eyes glowing. I jumped between him and Curran, Sarrat in my hand.

Dali made a quiet gasping noise and fell. Jim caught Dali’s small body. She was breathing fast in shallow gasps. Black blood poured from her mouth—the Lyc-V saturating her body dying off by the millions. The blade must have been coated with silver shavings.

“Doolittle!” Jim spun toward the medmage.

The magic was down. No medmage healing.

“Hold her,” the medmage barked. “Nasrin, scalpel.”

Raphael finally broke free of Curran. His eyes had gone completely mad. He shot forward and Mahon clamped him into a bear hug from behind.

Baby B wailed.

How the hell could it be Jezebel? Was it a polymorph in Jezebel’s shape?

Robert got off Jezebel, kneeling by her. Julie dropped by the bouda’s body into the puddle of her blood.

“Who else?” Robert demanded. “Who else belongs to Roland?”

“Why?” Tears streamed down Julie’s face. “Why?”

Jezebel opened her mouth, each breath a loud wet struggle. She was looking straight at me. She struggled to say something.

The room was full of noise—Raphael snarling, Baby B wailing, Jim growling.

“Quiet!” Curran roared.

In the silence, Jezebel’s voice sounded too loud. “Sharrim . . .”

She stretched an arm toward me, sliding in her own blood, trying to crawl toward me.

Oh God.

“Bless me . . . so serve you . . . in the afterlife . . . Bless me . . .”

“No,” I told her.

“Bless me . . .” Her body shuddered.

“I bless you.” Julie pulled Jezebel to her, cradling her head. “Her blood is my blood. You can serve me.”

Jezebel reached out with her bloody hand and patted Julie’s cheek. Her fingers slid, leaving red smudges on Julie’s pale skin. Her chest rattled. Jezebel gasped and died.

Julie screamed, her voice raw with grief.

In the corner Dali went into convulsions.

Andrea marched over and thrust Baby B at me. “Hold her!”

I took the baby. Andrea let me hold her for exactly three seconds and grabbed her back.

Jim turned to us, his face still jaguar. “Get out.”

•   •   •

EVERYTHING WAS FUCKED up.

We walked down the hallway toward the stairs. Derek had taken Julie’s hand, pulled her up to her feet, and was now walking next to her, holding her hand in his. She stared straight ahead, her teeth clenched. Tears streamed down her face, but she walked without a single sob. Derek walked, his face stoic, his eyes scanning the hallway in front of us for potential threats. Curran strode next to me, still in warrior form.

Pearce followed us. As we passed the sentries, they followed us, too. Shapeshifters had enhanced hearing. Everyone on the floor had heard the Beast Lord snarl.