I suck in a frigid breath. The cold . . . it’s going to kill her.

Surging upright, I tear myself free of the Guard. Something breaks over the back of my head, the shatter of glass ringing in my ears as my knees give out.

Fleur shouts my name, her voice distorted and far away. I shake my head as the room wavers in and out of focus.

Glass cuts into my knees as I push myself upright. A violent wind whips through the house, brushing away the fog. The smell of ozone fills the air. It crackles with static. My hair stands on end as Fleur’s magic electrifies the room.

The Guards turn toward a sudden rustle outside the open windows. They lurch back as thick, ropy vines rush in over the sills. The vines slither over the floor, darting toward their ankles. One of the Guards reaches for a sheath at his waist as the plants coil to strike.

“No! Stop!” I surge forward as he draws the blade, but a vine throws me away from the fray, sending me skidding across the floor. Fleur cries out as the Guard slashes viciously at the vines. The plant falls limp, tumbling back over the ledge.

The wind dies and the curtains fall still.

The smell of blood hits me.

“Fleur!” I blink, struggling to make out her shape in the dark as I scramble toward her.

Black beads trickle down the frost on her arms, smearing the pale sleeves of the Guard’s uniform as she slides down the wall. One of the Guards jerks me back by my hair.

Another Guard taps her transmitter. “Target secured,” she says thickly, frowning as she wipes blood from her nose. “Ready for transport. Bring us home.” A spark ignites on another Guard’s palm, the hot white flame carving her features out of the dark.

“Lixue?” We were Winters together once, years ago, before she became one of Michael’s Guards. I narrow my eyes, unable to understand why she’s here, in my house. Why they’re hurting Fleur. Lyon was supposed to have disbanded the old Guard. He was supposed to have stripped them of their magic already. Something must have gone wrong.

Goose bumps that have nothing to do with the cold rise over my flesh as I remember the storms over London. How Lyon missed our meeting. “We’re under protective order,” I say through clenched teeth. “Daniel Lyon will skin you alive when he finds out about this.”

Lixue smothers her flame, her face inscrutable in the dark. “Sorry, Jack. It didn’t have to end like this.”

Light flickers across the room. I shield my eyes against the glare as it grows. Fleur’s chin rests against her chest. A red light flashes in her ear and her body begins to glow.