“Sorry,” I say, pulling back to make sure she’s okay.

“Don’t be.” She grabs a fistful of my shirt and brings my mouth back to hers, kissing me hard, her legs looping around my hips as I back her against the wall, our chests heaving.

“He’ll be back soon,” she says, tipping her head back to catch her breath. I kiss her jaw, the side of her neck, behind her ear, her throat. She lets out an agonized whimper that might break me. “You have to go,” she pants. “The smoke alarm . . . He’ll know you’re in here.”

“It’s okay,” I say between our shared breaths. “By the time Doug realizes you’re gone, we’ll be deep in the catacombs.”

“But Jack—”

“I already found Chill.” I smooth her hair back from her face, my fingers lingering on her cheeks as I kiss her again. “Amber, Julio, Poppy, and Marie . . . they’re all here. I’ve found a way out. Lyon left a map. There are tunnels to the surface. Exits Doug doesn’t know about under the—”

Her hand covers my mouth. I pull back, searching her face, the sudden absence of her warmth jarring. Her lips are swollen, her neck flushed, her dark eyes focused on me. She shakes her head. “I can’t leave.”

I let her slide to her feet. “If you’re afraid for me, Fleur, don’t be. I made it this far. I can handle Doug. My smaze . . . it’s here. Lyon freed it, and I—”

“I know.” She sniffs. “I’ve seen it. It found me. I think it’s been trying to help me find a way out.” A sad smile tugs at her lips. “But I can’t go. No matter where I run, Doug will know where I am. If I leave with you, I’ll be putting you all in danger.”

“No.” I brush a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “He can’t see you in the staff. The eye is missing. Lyon knew what was coming. He must have hidden it. I don’t have time to explain. You just have to trust me. If we run, Doug won’t be able to find you.” I pull her toward the door. “But you’re right. We should get out of here. I sent the Guards back through the ley lines. We don’t have much time before another team shows up.”

“I know the crystal is gone,” she says, digging her heels into the carpet and pulling us to a stop. “That’s not it. I can’t leave.”

I study her face, but it’s not fear I see in her eyes. It’s resignation. “I don’t understand. What are you saying?”

“Something happened when Doug and I were fighting. I don’t know how, exactly, but our magic got tangled. We’re . . . connected by it.”

“What do you mean, connected?”