Soheila held up her hands. I think she only meant to ward off Frank’s apologies and to keep him from touching her – maybe she was afraid of what effect her touch might have on him in her highly emotional state – but the motion caused a gust of wind that blew him backwards. He hit the wall, his arms splayed out to steady himself, in a pose eerily like the twisted limbs of the murdered fisherman. Soheila made a sound like a wounded bird and fled the room. Frank watched her go with a pained look on his face and then addressed himself to Liz. “I had no idea that the information I was collecting would be used by the Grove. It looks to me like IMP has been compromised by the Grove.”

Liz nodded. “We’re in agreement there,” she said. “I don’t understand how they can turn their backs on the fey. Even Loomis Pagan and Talbot Greeley have turned on their own kind.”

I filled Frank in on what I’d learned from Jen Davies about the club in London that the Grove had joined forces with.

“The Seraphim Club?” he repeated. “I’ve heard something about them …” His voice drifted off. He was staring at me, his eyes narrowed. “What did happen to your face, McFay?”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “It’s a long story …” Before I could finish he stepped closer and put his hand up against my face, but the wards on my skin sizzled and popped. He kept his hand there, though, even though the wards were beginning to smoke and I smelled singed flesh.

“Frank, don’t …” I grabbed his hand and pushed it away. He looked at me, then down at his hand. The coils had been seared into his flesh. He nodded once, as if what he saw confirmed something he’d suspected and then he turned and left without another word.

Liz’s face sagged. She looked like she had aged a decade in the hour we’d been inside this room. I was afraid she was going to cry, but instead she asked me the last question I wanted to answer. “Do you think you can stop them from closing the door?”

“Yes,” I said with more confidence than I felt. “I read in Wheelock that there’s a way for a doorkeeper to create a bond with the door to keep it open.”

“I’ve read that footnote in Wheelock,” Liz said, “but only a doorkeeper can open it.” Her face looked troubled. “I’ve also heard though that doorkeepers have died in the attempt to prevent a door from closing. If it comes to that, Callie, you mustn’t sacrifice your own life.”

“It won’t come to that,” I told Liz.

She held my gaze for a moment, and then nodded. “Let’s hope not.”