The attack came at 3:47 AM on a Tuesday, because apparently even magical terrorists understand that exhausted parents are easier targets.

I woke to Aurora screaming—not her normal fussy baby crying, but raw terror that shot through our blood bond like molten glass. Before I was fully conscious, I was running toward her nursery, my bare feet slipping on the wooden floor.

The window was shattered. The crib was empty.

"MAVERICK!" My scream tore from my throat as I stared at the broken glass, the torn curtains, the drops of blood on the windowsill that might have been Aurora's or might have been from whoever took her.

He appeared beside me, taking in the scene with the kind of cold assessment that came from years of survival, but I could feel his panic through our bond—ice-cold terror that matched my own.

"The blood's not hers," he said grimly, kneeling beside the window. "Too much of it, wrong scent. Someone got hurt taking her."

"Who?" I demanded, as if knowing would somehow make this better. "Who would—"

"Chizzy." Mason's voice came from behind us, flat and certain. "It has to be Chizzy."

I whirled on him, rage and fear combining into something that wanted to tear the world apart. "How do you know? How do you fucking know, Mason?"

"Because," he said, holding up a piece of paper that had been nailed to our front door, "she left a note."

My hands shook as I read it:

*You want your abomination back? Come to the old Council chambers at dawn. Come alone, or watch her die slowly on every magical mirror in the realm.*

*Some mistakes can't be allowed to live.*

*—C*

"She has her." The words came out as a whisper because speaking them louder would make them too real. "She has my baby."

"We'll get her back," Maverick said, but his voice was hollow. The old Council chambers were a fortress, built with centuries of protective magic and designed to contain the most dangerous supernatural beings alive.

"How?" I turned on both of them, my voice breaking. "How exactly are we going to storm an impregnable magical fortress to rescue an infant from a woman who's already proven she's willing to murder children?"

"We'll find a way—"

"THERE IS NO WAY!" I screamed, and every piece of glass in the house shattered simultaneously. "She's eight weeks old! She's tiny and helpless and she doesn't understand why Mama isn't there to protect her!"

Through the blood bond, I could feel Aurora's terror—not physical pain yet, but the deep distress of a baby who'd been torn from everything safe and familiar. The sensation was like having my heart ripped out through my throat.

"Maggie," Mason said carefully, "I need you to listen to me."

"Don't." My voice was deadly quiet now. "Don't you dare try to manage me right now."

"I'm not trying to manage you. I'm trying to tell you that Chizzy called me an hour ago."

Everything stopped. My magic, my breathing, my heartbeat—everything went dead still.

"What?"

"She called. She wanted me to know that this was my fault. That if I hadn't brought information about your defenses, about Aurora's routines, about when you'd be most vulnerable..." He swallowed hard. "She wanted me to know that your daughter's death would be on my hands."

The world tilted sideways. "Information about our defenses? What information, Mason?"

"The stuff I told her before I came here. When I was still trying to convince her to negotiate instead of fight." His face was gray, aging years in the span of seconds. "I thought... I thought if she understood how powerful Aurora was, how protected you were, she'd realize she couldn't win."

"You gave her intelligence on us." My voice was still that deadly quiet. "You gave our enemy detailed information about how to hurt my child."

"I was trying to prevent exactly this—"

"You were covering your bases!" The words exploded out of me with enough force to crack the walls. "You were making sure that no matter who won, you'd be on the right side!"

"That's not—"

"ISN'T IT?" I was screaming again, magic pouring off me in waves that made the air itself burn. "You played both sides, just like you always do, and now my baby is going to pay the price for your cowardice!"

"Maggie, please—"

"GET OUT!" Power erupted from me, lifting Mason off his feet and slamming him against the wall. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE BEFORE I KILL YOU WHERE YOU STAND!"

"Maggie, stop!" Maverick caught my wrists, his touch the only thing keeping me from tearing Mason apart with my bare hands. "We need him. If he has contact with Chizzy, if she's talking to him—"

"He's the reason she has Aurora in the first place!"

"I know. But right now, he's also our best chance of getting her back alive."

I looked at Mason, slumped against the wall where my magic had thrown him, blood trickling from his nose and his eyes filled with genuine horror at what his actions had cost.

"How?" I asked Maverick without taking my gaze off the man who'd betrayed us again. "How is he our best chance?"

"Because Chizzy wants both of us dead, but she wants you to suffer first. She'll keep Aurora alive as bait, as leverage. But she still trusts Mason, still thinks he's working for her."

Understanding dawned, cold and brutal. "You want him to go in as a double agent."

"I want him to go in and create an opening for us to extract Aurora."

"And if he doesn't? If he decides his own survival is more important than my daughter's life?"

Mason spoke for the first time since I'd thrown him against the wall. "Then you can kill me yourself. Slowly. With your bare hands if you want."

"Mason—" Maverick started.

"No, she's right. This is my fault. My cowardice, my need to play all the angles instead of just choosing a side and sticking with it." He struggled to his feet, wiping blood from his nose. "I did this. And I'm going to fix it or die trying."

I studied his face, looking for any sign of deception, any hint that this was just another manipulation. All I saw was a broken man who'd finally understood the true cost of his choices.

"If she dies because of you," I said quietly, "there won't be enough left of you to bury."

"I know."

"If this is another of your schemes, another attempt to play multiple sides—"

"It's not. I swear to you, Maggie, on everything I've ever held sacred—it's not."

Aurora's terror pulsed through the blood bond again, a reminder that every second we spent talking was another second she was in danger.

"Fine," I said. "But we do this my way. No more secrets, no more angles, no more protecting your own interests."

"Agreed."

"And Mason?" I stepped closer to him, letting him see exactly how close I was to losing all control. "If you betray us again—if you even hesitate when the moment comes to choose between your life and hers—I will make you watch while I burn everything you've ever cared about to ash. And then I'll start on you."

He nodded, his face pale but determined. "Understood."

"Good." I turned to Maverick. "How long do we have?"

"Maybe three hours until dawn. Maybe less."

"Then we'd better get moving."

As we prepared for what might be a suicide mission, as Mason made contact with Chizzy to arrange his "report" on our devastated reaction, as Maverick gathered weapons that probably wouldn't be enough, I held onto one thing:

The feel of Aurora's life force through our blood bond. Terrified, confused, but alive.

She was alive, and I would tear the world apart to keep it that way.

Even if it killed me.

Especially if it killed me.