“To hell with your authority,” he grumbles before switching on the mic. “I have a message for Chronos. Do you copy?”

I hold my breath through an extended pause.

“Who is this?”

“Patch me through to Douglas Lausks.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be poss—”

“Tell him Jack Sommers wants to speak with him.”

Auggie gets up from his chair, motioning for me to take his seat. The leather creaks as I ease into it. He turns the mic toward me.

We hold our collective breath through a series of clicks.

“I assume you made it out alive.” Doug’s voice is gruff—impatient and hostile. If I close my eyes, I’ll see him walking beside me down the hallway to the Crux, slamming my back into the wall and shoving a flame in my face. With every fiber of my being, I want to kill him. I want to rip Fleur out of his mind and run him through with Lyon’s scythe.

“Disappointed?” I bite out.

“Not at all. You and I have unfinished business.”

My eyes slide back to the beaded curtain. “I’m ready to settle up. Name the time and place.”

The length of his pause makes my skin crawl. “The bandstand. Greenwich Park. One hour from now. You come alone.”

“You come with Fleur.” I tug my damp hair, worried I’ve said too much. I can’t afford for Doug to suspect this is a setup. “I want proof that she’s alive and safe. Then you can do whatever you want with me.”

Static crackles like frost. “One hour,” he says. “Don’t make me wait.”

Auggie switches off the radio. “Why didn’t you tell him about the crystal? You could have used it to negotiate for the girl.”

“I’m not negotiating with anyone.”

“There’s no way he’ll give her to you.”

“That’s why I’m going to take her.” I get up from the chair and round the desk, pushing aside the beaded curtain to Auggie’s back room.

“What are you doing?” Auggie asks.

I stoop beside the old stasis chamber I saw when I was last here, examining the buttons and dials. The dome of the chamber is real glass. Not plexi. No plastic parts. It’s all brass and bronze and silver. All gears and big glass bulbs with fine curls of steel filament. “What would you need to make this thing work?”

Auggie’s brow crumples. “Just power. The machine is simple, but it’s—”

Chill whistles low, examining the dials at the foot of the chamber. “This thing is incredible. I’ve never seen one this old.”

“Please . . . don’t touch those. They’re very delicate,” Auggie says, hovering over Chill.

“Is there a transmitter?” I ask.

“Of a sort,” he says hesitantly. “I mean, all the parts are there, but—”