And they'd fought. He'd been so stupid. Claire was alive and breathing—warm, sweet, and loving. How could he let his time with Claire be diminished by the memory of a woman long dead, cold, and in her grave?

"Fuck!" he yelled.

If he didn't act soon, there might be two ghosts to haunt him instead of one.

Adam shook his head. "I'm not giving her up." He turned and bellowed, "I won't let them have her!"

Thomas held out a hand like-Adam was a rabid dog he intended to stave off. "None of us intend to allow the demons to kill Claire."

Adam turned and paced across the room. "We need Micah. He's got to be able to do something, figure out the most likely place they'd take her to try and remove the elium or something. There's got to be something we can do."

"I've already got him on it."

"Can I help? I can't stay idle on this one, Thomas. I need to be doing something… anything."

Thomas nodded. "Yeah, you can help Micah by telling him all there is to know about the demons and Claire. Any bit of information that you haven't told him would help, even if it seems totally mundane."

Adam nodded, glancing away and rubbing a hand over his chin. He really did feel half-crazed. Uncontrolled fire jumped from finger to finger. He tamped it down and took a deep breath. "Okay. I can do that."

"Adam?"

He looked at Thomas, tried to focus. "Yeah?"

"You really care about Claire, don't you? This isn't just about losing your charge to the demons, is it?"

He rubbed his chin again, looked down at the ground. "I think I fell in love with her."

Thomas went silent.

"I've only done that one other time in my life, Thomas, and you know how that turned out."

"Yes." He paused. "I remember that night."

Adam raised his gaze to Thomas's face. "I can't let it happen again. Claire can't be harmed. It's just… not in the realm of possibility."

"I understand how you feel, Adam."

Adam nodded, going to the door. "I'm going to find Micah."

Claire moved an inch and felt her stomach heave again. She allowed her cheek to descend back onto the cold floor of the building they'd jumped her into. The mode of transport had made her horribly ill, but at least her sickness was keeping the demons at bay—for now.

The walls of the place they'd brought her to had some significant demon-made wards. Wards that prevented her from using her magick. She wondered if the elium was still accessible to her, being demon magick and not aeamon. Just as soon as her stomach stopped roiling and her head stopped beating out a symphony of pain, she was going to check that out. At the moment she could barely move.

Cruel hands grasped her upper arms and hefted her. Her head lolled and her stomach heaved. But she hadn't had anything in her stomach to bring up before and nothing had changed. That didn't make her body want to do it any less, however.