A powerful aura rolled off it, smelling of ozone—Caine’s magic. White-hot excitement surged in her veins. As with everything to do with mages, this mausoleum wasn’t exactly as it seemed.

It was a portal.

Of course a mage wouldn’t bother with a motorcycle when a portal could get him where he wanted instantly.

Her heart clenched. If she wanted to follow him through, she’d need to act now. Portals didn’t last forever.

There was a chance this one would take her right to Caine, and she could confront him to get the answers she wanted. There was also the possibility that he’d fly into a lethal rage. Plunging through the portal meant crossing an obvious boundary. And if she angered him, she’d suffer a slow and painful death at his hands.

Then again, he’d obviously spared her life for a reason. It was just like Josiah said. She needed to master her fear to get what she wanted. And what she wanted right now, more than anything, was answers.

The shadow mage held the key not only to her present life disasters, but to her past. He was the only remaining thread to her golden childhood memories, before the demons had ruined everything.

She gritted her teeth. The idea of jumping into a cold pool of water at the bottom of a crypt ranked only marginally higher than spending a night with Crypt Guy. She twisted the lucky ring around her finger, wondering what Tammi would tell her to do. She was pretty sure what Tammi would tell her not to do, starting with “don’t follow a psychotic mage through a pool of water in the bottom of a crypt.” Tammi was practical like that.

But if Rosalind took the practical route, she’d never find out the truth about herself. She’d never find out if Caine knew something more about her past, or why everyone thought she was a witch.

After sucking in a breath, she took a step forward, and leapt into the icy water.

Chapter 6

She plunged deep into the frigid water, the cold piercing her skin. Immediately, she regretted her choice. The pool was far deeper than she’d expected.

Frantically, she kicked her legs to return to the surface, but the shock of the chill disoriented her. For a moment, she couldn’t tell which way was up or down, and she flailed in the murky water, her pulse racing.

At last, her head pierced the surface; she tried to suck in air, but the frigid water had frozen her muscles.

Breathe, Rosalind.

As she blinked, waiting for the world to come in focus, she gasped. She was floating in a stone fountain, and her body shook from the cold. Above her, water flowed from the mouth of a stone woman in a torn dress. Rosalind clambered to the fountain’s edge, hoisting herself out of the water onto a cobblestone street. The air smelled of jasmine and sandalwood.

Where the hell was she?

The force of the magical aura sickened her, seeping into her skull like a poisonous miasma. She doubled over, retching. Good thing she’d skipped dinner.