“Tell me everything you know.” I slam the knife down on the island, blade facing her, letting her get a good long look at it. “Starting with why you’re here. Did Doug send you?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I told you. I’m not one of them. I knew they were coming. I tried to beat them here to warn you, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

“Warn me about what? What’s Doug planning?”

“I don’t know exactly—”

I grab her by her ear and turn her to face me. “Think hard.”

She grits her teeth. “All I know is he hates you.”

“If he hates me so much, why didn’t he just kill me?” Why take Fleur? And Chill? I would have been an easier target.

“Because he doesn’t want to kill you. He wants to hurt you. He wants to make you suffer the same way he’s suffered! He blames you for everything he’s lost.”

A horrible thought takes hold. Doug lost his best friend. And his girlfriend. But that’s not all Doug lost in that fight.

My ears ring, the shrill echoes of an unanswered phone. “What has he done?”

Kai shuts her eyes.

She starts as I snatch the cleaver off the counter. “What has he done!”

“He killed Lyon and Gaia, and he took the staff.”

My hand shakes around the knife’s handle. “You’re lying. Lyon would have seen it coming. He would have found some way to protect himself.”

“Doug broke into Lyon’s office and took Ananke’s magic before the Dismantling.”

“Ananke? That doesn’t make sense. That magic is gone. All that’s left of her is the eye in the staff.”

Kai shakes her head. “Doug and I found it. It was strong. Doug had no problem cutting Lyon and Gaia down. It was like they weren’t even trying.”

I stumble away from her and set the knife on the counter. No. This can’t be happening. I would have known, wouldn’t I? Poppy, Marie, and I . . . wouldn’t we have felt it when it happened? It was Lyon’s magic—his control over Time—that kept us from aging and gave us our immortality so we could stay paired with our Seasons. If that magic is gone . . .

My cell phone rings. I don’t recognize the number. Numb, I connect the call and hold the phone to my ear.

“Who is this?” I ask, my throat thick.

“I’m trying to reach Jack Sommers.”

“You’ve got him.”

“This is Officer Williams with the police department in Nelson County, Virginia. We were patched through by your real estate attorney in London. That was the only phone number emergency services had on file. He says you’re the owner of record for a cabin out by Wintergreen?”

My grip tightens around the phone. “What about it?”