He’d been playing “Danse Macabre” and drinking wine all day: never a good sign. Eliza, pink-faced with the effort of controlling so many spirits, gave him a hard look. “You wake up on the wrong side of the chaise longue, Jaxon?”

“Again.”

“He’s in pain,” Nadine said, her cheeks flushed with anger. “Look at him! He can’t take this!”

“I’m in pain, Nadine. Agonized by your recalcitrance.” Deadly soft. “Don’t make me get up, children. Do—it—again.”

There was a short silence. Nadine gripped her brother’s shoulders, her hair falling across her face. It was dark brown now, and shorter. It attracted less attention, but she hated it. She hated the citadel. Most of all, she hated us.

When nobody moved, Eliza called on one of her spirit aides—JD, a seventeenth-century muse. When it jumped out of her dreamscape, into the æther, the lights flickered. “I’ll try JD.” Her brow was pinched. “If an old spirit doesn’t work, I don’t think anything will.”

“A poltergeist, perhaps?” Jax said, perfectly serious.

“We are not using a ’geist on him!”

Jax carried on smoking. “Pity.”

On the other side of the room, Nick pulled the blinds down. He was appalled at what we were doing, but he couldn’t stop it.

Zeke couldn’t take the suspense. His fevered eyes were on the spirit. “What are they doing, Dee?”

“I don’t know.” Nadine fixed a cold stare on Jaxon. “He needs rest. You set that spirit on him and I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Smoke curled from Jaxon’s mouth. “Play me an angry tune? Please, be my guest. I do enjoy music from the soul.”

Her chin puckered, but she didn’t rise to the bait. She knew the punishment for disobeying Jaxon. She had nowhere else to go, nowhere else to take her brother.

Zeke shivered against her. As if he were younger than her, not two years older.

Eliza glanced at Nadine, then at Jaxon. On her silent command, the muse whipped forward. I didn’t see it, but I felt it—and from Zeke’s cry of agony, so did he. His head slammed back, and the muscles in his neck strained out. Nadine’s lips clamped together as she wrapped both arms around him. “I’m sorry.” She rested her chin on his head. “I’m so sorry, Zeke.”

Old and determined, JD was naturally obstinate. It had been told that Zeke was going to hurt Eliza, and it fully intended to stop that from happening. Zeke’s face shone with sweat and tears. He was almost choking.

“Please,” he said. “No more—”

“Jaxon, stop it,” I snapped. “Don’t you think he’s had enough?”

His eyebrows jumped toward his hairline. “Are you questioning me, Paige?”

My courage faded. “No.”