He staggered forward and put a hand on a nearby desk to keep from falling. I watched him a second, but he managed to stay upright so I moved over to Claudia, who hadn’t moved or spoken the whole time I’d been in the office.

Claudia’s head was slumped down on her chest, so I couldn’t see how badly her face had been damaged, but someone had sliced through the sleeves of her black suit jacket, and deep, ugly cuts crisscrossed her arms. It reminded me so much of my mom and how Victor had cut up her body before he’d killed her that white stars exploded in front of my eyes, blotting out everything else.

I blinked and blinked, trying to force the stars away, but it didn’t quite work, and the image of Claudia’s body wavered with that of my mom’s, until I was seeing both of them side by side at the same time, each one of them bloody, broken, and beaten.

My stomach heaved and a screaming sob rose up in my throat, but I choked it down. Claudia couldn’t be dead—murdered—like my mom had been. I couldn’t be too late to save her. Devon would be devastated, and so would I.

Mo shuffled up beside me, reached out, and carefully laid a hand on her shoulder. “Claud? It’s time to wake up now. Come on, Claud. Time to go home.”

At his touch, she let out a weak cough and slowly lifted her head. I gasped. Her face was just as much of a mess as Mo’s, and I could barely make out her green eyes in her bloody, swollen features.

“Mo?” Claudia said, her voice slurring. “What’s going on?”

“Lila’s here,” he said in a gentle voice. “Everything’s going to be okay now. You’ll see.”

Claudia looked over at me, her face creasing with confusion. “Lila? What are you talking about? That’s Serena standing there. Look. She has on her coat and sword and everything.”

My heart twisted, realizing exactly how badly she’d been beaten to make her confuse me with my mom, but I knelt down and took hold of Claudia’s bruised, bloody hand. “We’re going to get you out of here. I promise.”

She smiled at me. “Okay, Serena. Whatever you say.”

Then her eyes rolled up in the back of her head and she slumped forward in her seat, unconscious again. That was probably for the best right now.

I used my sword to cut through Claudia’s ropes. I started to take hold of her, but Mo beat me to it. I don’t know how he managed it, given his own serious injuries, but he bent down and scooped Claudia up into his arms.

“Don’t worry, kid,” he said. “I’ve got Claud. You lead the way out of here.”

I nodded, and we left the office. I went first, with Mo carrying Claudia and shuffling along behind me, and we made it back out to the main part of the warehouse without any problem. Everyone who’d been injured was gone, along with the pixies, but Felix, Angelo, and Reginald were still here, along with several guards. The three of them hurried over to us the second we stepped into view.

Angelo gave Mo a quick once-over before turning his attention to Claudia. “We need to get her out of here,” he said. “She needs stitch-sting and a lot of it. So do you, Mo.”

I looked at Angelo. “I’ve got a stockpile in my library basement. Mo can show you where it is. Go. Now.”

“What about Devon?” Felix asked. “He’s still out on the street with Victor.”

“I’ll go out the front and get him away from Victor. Take the guards around to the west side of the warehouse and get ready in case we need help. Now go.”

Felix nodded and he and the others hurried out the back of the warehouse. I whirled around and sprinted toward the front, peering out one of the windows.

Devon was standing in the middle of the street in front of the warehouse, with a black duffel bag lying at his feet. He had his sword drawn, even though the Draconi guards surrounded him on three sides. Victor and Blake were there too, standing in front of Devon, with more guards flanking them. The warehouse door was cracked open, letting me hear everything they were saying.

“I’m so glad that you decided to be reasonable,” Victor said in a cool voice. “My son was getting rather tired of chasing you and your friends all over the Midway.”

Devon shrugged, but Blake’s cheeks turned a dark, mottled red with embarrassment.

“I got Deah, didn’t I?” he muttered. “I told you I could get Merriweather and all the others too. I just needed some more time.”

Victor arched an eyebrow at Blake, who clamped his lips shut, knowing better than to contradict his dad. He settled for shooting Devon an angry glare, as though it were Devon’s fault that Blake hadn’t managed to capture me along with Deah earlier today.

“Regardless, you’re here now.” Victor’s gaze dropped to the duffel bag sitting at Devon’s feet. “But apparently not with all the weapons, as we agreed.”

“I want to see my mom and all the other Sinclairs first,” Devon countered. “Then I’ll turn the rest of the weapons over to you.”

Victor let out a low, ugly laugh that made my skin crawl. “You stupid boy. As if I would ever agree to turn over your mother or any of the others for one measly bag of weapons and the faint promise of learning where the others are. I’ve waited too long and worked too hard to finally have your mother at my mercy to give her up for a little bit of magic.”

“Not just a little bit of magic,” Devon said. “How long did it take you to kill all those monsters and harvest their magic?”

Victor gave him a cold look. “Don’t worry. You’ll die much quicker than they did.” He snapped his fingers. “Bring me the bag and the boy.”

The guards started forward, but Devon brandished his sword, keeping them at bay—for now.

“That wasn’t the deal,” he snapped. “You do anything to me and you can kiss the rest of the weapons goodbye. You’ll never find them, and I’ll never tell you where they are.”

A smile curved Victor’s lips, but it was one of the most vicious expressions I’d ever seen. “I’m changing the deal. And you most certainly will tell me where every single one of my black blades are. You might last a day or two, like your mother has, but you won’t be able to hold out forever. In the end, you’ll be begging me to kill you.”

Devon’s face tightened, but he kept his sword raised and his gaze steady on Victor. The guards looked back and forth between the two of them, not daring to move or speak. The tension in the air between them practically crackled with electricity.