Seanna must have been squatting here when the dryads found her. The sight of her “camp” brought back memories of Gabriel’s own years on the street. Except he’d been unable to afford fast food. Or a sleeping bag.

“I’ll need to question her,” he said. “Then we’ll take her to the police, to prove she is alive.”

And after that? He hadn’t thought of what he’d do with Seanna after that. He had ideas, most of which involved very deep holes, but they were only fleeting fancies. While Olivia would doubtless say he deserved to entertain those fancies, he wanted to rise above them.

The deep-hole fantasy wasn’t about punishing Seanna; it was about protecting Olivia. Protecting Rose. Even protecting himself and the life he’d built. Put Seanna someplace she couldn’t harm them.

Jail seemed the best solution. He was still working out the logistics for that. It might involve accusing her of a crime she had not committed. And no, he would not feel the slightest bit guilty for that.

“I will ask you to escort her out,” Gabriel continued. “I have sedatives, if it proves necessary.”

“You brought sedatives?” Patrick said. “It seemed wise.”

“You have sedatives just lying around your house?”

“It’s an apartment. Seanna? If you don’t wish to be sedated, I would suggest you accompany these two quietly. Remember, you can’t escape if you’re unconscious.”

“I don’t think you should give her ideas,” Alexios whispered.

Patrick only shook his head. He knew Gabriel was advising her to stay alert because she had no actual chance of escape and sedation was merely inconvenient. Which was not entirely true. Gabriel was bluffing about the sedatives. He certainly didn’t keep them on hand. If he did, there’d be far too much temptation to use them on far too many people.

The dryads started toward Seanna. Then they stopped, pursing their lips in unison as they looked about.

“Oh, let me guess,” Patrick said. “You hear something. And we need to run and hide, leaving you…”

Patrick kept talking, but Gabriel no longer heard him. No longer heard anything except the softest beating of wings against glass.

The dryads had gone as still as trees. They heard it, too, that soft sound, slowly escalating—

“Down!” Gabriel shouted.

Dozens of windows shattered in one deafening crash. Gabriel ducked, arms over his head. He heard Helia shout “No!” as she ran toward him, Alexios following her. Patrick turned on them, his face contorted in a snarl, his glamour rippling, a flash of light keeping Gabriel from seeing what lay beneath.