Behind her, Mark was pushing out the last of the FIB guys, locking up and bolting the door before shutting off the lights. Fingers shaking, I found the cool shape of the tiny bottle. Nina pressed jealously close as I put it in Ivy’s hand, and they both looked at it, the faceted shape catching the buzzing streetlight. “What is it?” Ivy asked, her usual hesitancy where my magic was concerned blunted.

“It’s something to catch your soul in,” I said, curling her cold fingers around it. “Keep it in your pocket.”

Ivy’s head snapped up, and I could have cried at the hope in her eyes.

“Until Felix laughs and means it, I’m not calling this a good thing, but if you have your soul in a bottle, then it’s not in the hell of the ever-after,” I said. “You don’t have to do anything, just keep it within your aura. And don’t open the top once your soul is in there.”

“You did it?” Ivy said, looking at the stop sign where we’d seen Cormel last.

“Well, we’ve not tested it,” I offered, but she pulled me into a hug, her hand fisted at my back pressing into me hard. “I can’t imagine that if you get your soul back right away there would be that much trauma.” It was a hope only, but one I clung to with the same fervent wish that Cormel clung to his lies.

She was nodding as she pulled back, her eyes dark with unshed tears, anxious to be away. Behind her, Trent leaned against the car, thoughts pinching his brow as he waited with Jenks on his shoulder.

“I’ll be at my dad’s.” She hesitated. “Unless you need me?”

Nina was smiling, but it was a thinly disguised grimace. “Cormel is going to be too busy tomorrow to worry about us,” I said, looking for my keys until I remembered Trent had them. “Dali and Newt are terrorizing Trent’s house, so I’m going over there to run interference.”

“Okay.” Her eyes came back to me, and she hesitated, looking for words.

“So it’s the younger who find their souls first?” I blurted out, not wanting her to go until I could tell her she was a good person, and she shook her head even as Nina clenched her jaw, clearly wanting to leave.

“No, it’s how close you are to your death place.”

“Cormel died in Washington,” I said, thinking he’d have a long wait if his soul had to travel only by night. Unless he went to find it.

“Only those within twenty miles of their death are reuniting, but he expects it to make it here in a week.” She hesitated. “If nothing changes.”