He glared at her. “I always end up here with you,” he said tightly, pulling uselessly at the grip of the man who held him. “I shoulda known I couldn’t trust you.”

“It really wasn’t my first choice,” she said quietly. “But Baron Zeppler is simply too powerful. There just isn’t a way to defeat a telepath. I’ve accepted that and done what I had to do to protect Ellis.”

Rory ground his teeth. “’Cause the only thing you two care about besides yourselves is each other.”

She shrugged. “I did leave you one chance,” she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “If Zeppler takes your cuffs off, your magic might be powerful enough to wrest control of your ring back, even through the lead box.”

“No magic gets through lead,” he said flatly.

“That’s what everyone believes,” she said lightly. “But I’m the only paranormal in a century to see magic. Your magic overwhelms you because it’s powerful, Rory, and your link to Arthur lets you draw deeper than most. It might be stronger than Becker’s. Maybe it’s even strong enough to defeat lead.”

She tapped her temple. “Unless, of course, you think about that and Zeppler picks up on your thoughts. That is, I’m afraid, the entire problem with facing a telepath. I can tell you how you might have a chance to defeat him, but good luck keeping it secret.”

Rory narrowed his eyes.

She got back in the car, then, the front seat this time. Her driver started up the car, and Rory watched, choked by hopelessness, as the car made a U-turn and drove away, back toward Paris.

“Don’t look so glum,” said the Puppeteer, Becker, with a disturbing smile. “We’re going to see your sweetheart.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

When Zeppler’s magic finally oozed away, Arthur didn’t fall to his knees or gasp. But only because his body was still locked up tight, a living coffin for his mind.

Zeppler was the one who stepped back, his eyebrows up. “You are full of surprises.”

Arthur’s lungs breathed in, breathed out. “What did you learn?”

“Oh, so very many things.” Zeppler tilted his head. “How fortunate I got them all out of you when you’re so close to death’s door.”

Christ.

“Imagine living or dying at the whim of your lover.” Zeppler shook his head pityingly. “Then again, Mr. Giovacchini is apparently a veritable hoard of useful information. A pomander relic that enslaves non-magic minds.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I could do a lot with that. I’ve always thought the world was too quick to sign those peace treaties; I far prefer when the mundane are slaughtering themselves. I could recreate the Colosseum, enjoy the fights. Maybe even rekindle the wars. So many options if I have an army of mindlessly devoted to expend.”

Arthur felt sick.