Once they’d reached my floor, Aric demanded, “Were you bitten, mortal?”

Jack inspected his legs, yanking up the slime-covered material of his jeans. No blood. No broken skin. “Non. It was close, but no.” We’d saved him in time.

I commanded that net to drop, trapping the swarm of Baggers below. They tore at it, clawing to rise up—just as the red witch continued to clamor within. My outside battle mirrored the one inside me.

With the scent of roses flooding the air, my gaze slid to Death. Five icons from him alone. He had no helmet to protect him.

“Rein this in, Empress.” Death’s face was tense, his brows drawn. “Remember: I will not fight you.”

I turned to Jack for help. Yet as I met his eyes, I realized he wasn’t my anchor.

He was my reminder—that I wanted to keep my humanity.

Wasn’t Aric a reminder as well? Of my vow never to hurt him again?

Inhaling deeply, I grappled to contain the witch. Anxious heartbeats passed before my claws retracted, my glyphs fading.

I’d used my powers as never before. A handful of icons had been there for the taking. But I’d muzzled my witch!

Eerily carried by my vines, Death’s fearsome black helmet floated upward. I retrieved it, handing it to him. “How’d you like that?” I said between breaths. “Unleashed enough for you?”

He shook his head.

“Come on! It gets worse than that?”

Slow nod. “That wasn’t even a fraction, Empress.”

“Seriously?” As quickly as the heat of battle had risen, it dissipated. Light-headedness overwhelmed me. “My glyphs could’ve lit up a small Midwestern town. And I went all Little Shop of Horrors with those vines.” Selena’s nickname for me.

“Indeed. Still not more than a fraction.”

Jack swiped his hand over his face. “Where’d you learn how to do that, peekôn? Baggers thought they were in the sun! How many vines can you make at a time?”

At least he was impressed. “I don’t know. It’s a new bag of tricks.”

Jack turned to Aric. “At every second I thought you’d drop my Cajun ass. But you didn’t.”

“I suppose it wasn’t your time yet.” Aric donned his helmet.

“In any case, thanks for not making it my time.”

Seeming uneasy with the gratitude, Aric knelt beside me. “You cut your scalp?”

My surge of adrenaline dwindled, making way for the excruciating pain in my body and an onslaught of nausea.

Aric parted my hair. “Not just a cut. You cracked your very skull. And your side was pierced through.”

“I’ll heal.”

Jack watched us with narrowed eyes.

I narrowed mine in turn. “What were you thinking? It made no sense for you to face off against Bagmen, with limited weapons—and no armor.” My worry morphed into anger. “Just like it made no sense to rush into a horde of them the other night! Even though you’d promised me.”

Jack’s expression: busted.

“Another time for this, perhaps,” Aric said. “There’s movement in the stairwell.” A green EXIT sign gleamed not far away, below it an open door.

“Out of ammo, me.” Jack ran his sleeve over his sweating brow. “More Baggers?”

“We won’t be so fortunate.”

A chorus of voices sounded from that doorway: “We will love you ever so much.”

38

Carnates spilled into the room, so many that my woozy mind couldn’t reconcile what I was seeing.

Faultless duplicates. Paper cutout dolls stretched side by side forever, except these carried swords.

Death unsheathed his own and marched into the fray. Right beside him, Jack snagged a fire extinguisher as his only weapon.

When I tried to rise, I heaved. Turning to one side, I vomited into that pool of my blood.

“Just stay back, Empress!” Aric’s swords sliced out.

“We got this!” Jack bashed in a Vincent head.

I tottered to my feet, propping myself up against a wall. Once my strength returned, I’d call for a flood of green from the elevator shaft—

A hand covered my mouth!

The ground seemed to move under my feet—no, we were moving. A false wall rotated us into a hidden area. Would Jack and Aric even know I’d been taken?

“If you want to see Selena alive,” a male whispered, “you’ll be a good girl.”

Vincent. I sensed he was the real one.

His idea of a good girl was something I’d never be. When he looped an arm around my neck, I grew my thorns, about to inject him with poison. One half of an icon was about to be mine!

“Recognize this?” He raised a pressure sensor in front of my face. “Selena wears the collar now.”

But . . . but the Lovers’ icon . . .

No, no, Selena was my friend. She’d lost the Archer’s arrow meant for me.

I inhaled for calm. Vincent might take me to her—and to Violet—guiding me through the Shrine. I raised my hands in surrender.

“I’m amazed, Empress. You do care for another card.” He dragged me into a smaller secreted elevator, not much larger than a dumbwaiter. “Vi and I debated if this threat would curb your bloodlust.”

He and I ascended—couldn’t tell how many floors before we stopped. He hauled me out into a hallway with that same industrial look, those same orange words spray painted.

SMITE STRUCK FALL MAD