“Y-yes, I’m Stacy. What happened? Is Amy okay?”

Rowan glanced in the rearview mirror with concern. Kiera shifted slightly, waiting.

“Ms. Greentree will be all right, the doctor thinks,” the nurse answered. “She was involved in an altercation that resulted in her being shot. That is all we know since she is currently unconscious. The bullet is out, and our best doctors are working on closing the wound and preventing further complications.”

It took everything in Stacy to stamp down the rising panic. This was her fault. If she’d simply thought of another plan, Amy would have never ended up like this. She’s alive, she kept telling herself as the nurse continued. “Our doctors are confident Ms. Greentree will recover, though it will take time. Is there anyone else we should call about this?”

Stacy stammered the names and numbers of Amy’s parents, tears pricking her eyes. I have to see her.

The nurse’s voice grew more solemn. “Did you know her friend? A young man, tall with dark hair and eyes?”

“Y-yes, I know Spencer.”

“We need contact information for his family.”

Stacy paused, feeling like she was about to be punched in the gut. Her voice wavered. “Wh-why? Is he hurt, too?”

A beat of silence followed, broken by the nurse’s voice. “He was shot, too, Ms. Drake, and he arrived here too late. He died about twenty minutes ago.”

Victor sought solitude in the grand suite on the top floor. His wife and son were in the adjoining room, preparing for bed. Most of the guests had left, though some lingered on the floor far below. Victor didn’t care.

He kept checking his phone for news of what happened at his estate. He had wanted to go there himself, but leaving the hotel now would raise suspicion. He would wait until his men brought Stacy to him. His mind filled with everything he wished to do to her.

Finally, his phone rang. “What is it?” he growled into the speaker.

“They got away, boss.”

“Who?”

“Greentree and her friend. They got to a hospital, but they aren’t doing well, from what we can tell. That’s the word I got from Hammer, who followed them in the car. Riker went on the bike. He was shot.”

Victor seethed. He could only hope whatever injuries the journalist bitch received couldn’t be fixed before she was dead. “What about Drake and her team?”

“We saw them at the estate, sir.” A heavy pause followed.

“Well?” Victor was close to roaring.

“There were three, but they all got away. Somehow, they knew about the tunnel through your library and escaped before the men got to them. One of her team members could wield shadow magic, sir. It prevented them from being shot.”

That was interesting. Stacy was a capable witch, but it seemed she had somehow recruited other, far more experienced people. “Is someone following them?” Victor demanded.

“Trying to. The trail…went cold.”

“Keep working.” Victor hung up, feeling like he was about to boil over with rage. He considered heaving a chair into the wall or smashing a window. He reminded himself that this was not the sort of decorum appropriate for a man of his status, for a Corbinelli. Instead, he undid his cufflinks and tie, took off his shoes, and shrugged his suit jacket off his shoulders. He would take a cold shower and decide what move to make next.

Before entering the bathroom, he sent another message commanding his men to stake out the hospital. If Stacy Drake showed up, he wanted her apprehended immediately.

Stacy wasn’t sure she’d heard that right.

The silence that followed was suffocating. Her throat was too tight, and her tongue felt too heavy. She couldn’t get her mind to form a proper sentence.

“Ms. Drake?” came the nurse’s voice. “Are you still there?”

Stacy choked. “Y-yes.”

“What was your friend’s name?”

Stacy squeezed her eyes shut. “Spencer. Spencer Rankins.”

“Do you have contact information for his family?”

“I-I don’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Her voice broke.

The nurse’s voice softened. “That’s all right. I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Drake. Thank you for the information you have given me. We’ll figure out what to do from here.”

Stacy didn’t remember how the conversation ended, only that the nurse was speaking one moment, and the next, her phone was silent. Her hand was limp in her lap, holding her phone. Rowan and Kiera shared a look. Stacy managed to get out a few words. “Amy’s going to be okay. Spencer…he…”

“I know,” Rowan murmured as he turned down a road cloaked in trees and darkness. “I guessed as much from what I heard of your end of the conversation.”

“This is all my fault,” Stacy choked out.

“It is not,” Kiera inserted sharply. “You weren’t the one who hurt them. Those fuckers⁠—”

“If I didn’t need to get back at Victor, they would never have gone to the gala! They would never have…” Stacy was shaking. “Rowan, we must get to the hospital now. I have to see Amy!”

Would she ever forgive Stacy for this?

“I can’t do that,” Rowan quietly responded despite the anguish on his face. “No doubt the hospital has called the police. The place will be swarmed, and you’re covered in blood. You’ll be questioned. Remember, Victor has a hold over the city police commissioner, too. It’s a perfect way to trap you, whether or not Victor intended things to happen this way.”

Cold realization washed over her. Victor had sent his goons after Amy when he realized Stacy wasn’t at the hotel.

“We should return to the estate,” Kiera spoke up. “Prepare its defenses further in case Victor sends anyone to attack it again.”

Their words pierced Stacy with fresh agony, but she knew they were right.

I will honor your sacrifice, Spencer, she vowed inwardly. I will ensure Victor can never do something like this again. She didn’t know how, but she would find a way. For Spencer. For Amy.

New feelings surged through her, battling for dominance. She’d had some victory tonight, but the cost had been too high. It had cost them Spencer.

Had she crossed a line? She thought she was fighting for justice, but maybe she’d entered vengeance territory. What the hell were they supposed to do now?

Stacy’s mind swarmed with maddening thoughts. At last, she broke. Heavy sobs racked her body, and she dropped her face into her hands.

Kiera placed a comforting hand on her back. “There, there. We’re going to figure it out. All of us.”