I became aware of someone cutting my shirt. I tried to push away the intrusive hands, but my body mutinied. I recognized the thick mist of drugs. Next thing I knew, I was tucked up in Warden’s bed, tilted on my left side. My hair was wet. Every single part of my body felt broken.

“Paige?”

The voice came as if from underwater. I made a weak sound: half-sob, half-rattle. My chest was on fire. So was my arm. Nick. I reached out blindly.

“Michael, quickly.” A hand grasped mine. “Hold on, Paige.”

I must have passed out again. When I woke up, I felt as heavy, woolly, and shapeless as a duvet. Most of my right arm was numb. It hurt to breathe, but I could open my mouth. My chest heaved.

I supported myself on my elbow, pulling my body to the left, and ran my tongue over my teeth. All present and correct.

Warden was in his armchair, looking at the gramophone. I wanted to smash the thing. Those voices had no right to be so high-spirited. When Warden saw me move, he stood.

“Paige.”

The sight of him set off a heavy pounding in my chest. I pushed myself against the headboard, remembering his terrible eyes in the dark. “Did you kill him?” I wiped the sweat from my upper lip. “Did you—did you kill the oracle?”

“No. He is still alive.”

Slowly, watching my face, he eased me into a sitting position. The movement pulled at an IV in my hand. “I can’t see properly.” My voice was hoarse, but at least I could speak.

“You have a periorbital hematoma.”

“What?”

“Black eye.”

I traced the soft skin at the top of my cheek. Jax really had done me down. The whole right side of my face was swollen.

“So,” I said, “we’re back.”

“You tried to escape.”

“Of course I tried to escape.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my voice. “You think I want to die here and haunt Nashira for the rest of eternity?” Warden just looked at me. A lump rose in my throat. “Why didn’t you let me go home?”

A faint green stain was fading from his eyes. He must have fed on Eliza. “There are reasons,” he said.

“Excuses.”

For a long time, he didn’t speak. When he did, it wasn’t to tell me why he’d dragged me back to this cesspit of a city. “You have an impressive collection of injuries.” He propped me up with pillows. “Jaxon Hall is far more ruthless than we had anticipated.”

“Give me the list.”

“Black eye, two cracked ribs, split lip, torn ear, bruising, laceration on the right arm, bullet wound to the torso. I find it incredible that you were able to run to the bridge after the first round of injuries.”

“Adrenaline.” I focused on his face. “Did you get hit?”

“A graze.”