And nothing of the sort was Awakened in me.

But perhaps … perhaps it works differently in the Otherworld. Perhaps soulmates aren’t predestined there as they are here. Or perhaps the bond manifests differently.

All questions I need to ask Des when he wakes.

I sit down at a patio table near the edge of the property and sip my coffee.

I glance down at my bracelet. It appears unchanged from yesterday, but as I count the beads, three whole rows are missing. I don’t think Des even knowingly removed them.

His magic did.

I notice, however, that last night didn’t remove the entire bracelet. Clearly, the Bargainer’s magic doesn’t believe that one night of revelations and proclamations of love (and a shit ton of sex) is enough to seal the deal.

It seems Des’s magic is as capricious as my siren is naughty.

I close my eyes and breathe in the briny air, listening to the crash and the sea.

“Callypso Lillis, I’ve been looking for you.”

I freeze at the sound of my full name and the strange, masculine voice at my back.

I turn in my chair and squint, staring at the sun. It dims, and in its place is a man of staggering beauty. His hair looks like spun gold and his eyes are the cerulean blue of the sky.

Some sort of supernatural. Nothing but magic makes a human look like that.

A moment later my brain catches up with me.

Why is a stranger on Des’s property—in his backyard no less? And how does he know my name?

Everything about the situation feels wrong, wrong, wrong, but I’m too shocked at the moment to react.

My siren, however, isn’t.

Luminescent light ripples across my skin as she surfaces.

I stand abruptly. “How did you get back here?” I demand, my voice ethereal.

That’s all I can say. Not, Get the fuck off this property. Not, I’m going to call the cops. Not, DES!

He steps closer. “I told you, I’ve been looking for you.”

He answers my question, but I don’t think the siren compelled him to do so. He doesn’t look like a glamoured man. He’s not clamoring to get closer to me, waiting for my next command.

Which means …

Fairy.

Shit. The only other Otherworld creature I know looking for me is the Thief of Souls.

Is this … him?

He saunters forward. “You are surprisingly difficult to get alone,” he says.

I back up, bumping into the table behind me.

He’s going to grab me.

I act on instinct, grabbing my cup of coffee from the table and throwing it at him. He lifts his hand in the air, and the mug and the liquid arcing out of it freeze in midair.

He extends his hand palm out, and ever so gently the cup floats onto it, the coffee funneling back into the mug.

I open my mouth. “DE—!”

His eyes narrow on my lips, and my voice cuts off, my shout now silent.

I clutch my throat. “What have you … ?” I might as well be mouthing the words, my vocal cords are no longer producing any sound.

“Your colleague, Ms. Darling, said you were busy, but it doesn’t look like you’re busy.”

The client who’s been pestering me.

I continue backing up, my eyes darting to the house.

He smiles, and it’s like he invented the act of smiling, it’s so blindingly bright. “He’s not going to save you.”

The man disappears. A moment later his arms lock around me as he grabs me from behind.

I go hellcat on him, kicking out, my hands scratching at anything I can reach. I scream and scream, uncaring that my voice has been muted.

“Enough,” he breathes.

Magic slams into me, and the world goes dark.

Chapter 25

My eyes flutter open, and I rub my head, my mind groggy. Above me is a roughhewn rock ceiling. Sitting up, I glance down my body. I’m no longer wearing my outfit from this morning. Instead I’m sheathed in a wispy copper colored dress, the edges of it embroidered into intricate, shimmery patterns.

Don’t remember changing …

I shiver. I’m cold. Really, really cold.

I look around. Three rock walls surround me. And the fourth …

The fourth is a wall of iron bars.

Imprisoned. But where? Why?

I roll off the pallet I woke on. In the corner of the room, there’s what I would indulgently call a toilet. More like a bowl set into the ground.

Scratched onto the wall nearest me are tally marks. Dozens and dozens of them. None are slashed through, and I can’t decide if that’s because the last prisoner intentionally tallied the days this way… or if several separate prisoners began tallying and never made it past four.

I notice the bastard that took me is nowhere to be seen. Was he the Thief of Souls, or someone else entirely? He never even attempted to explain himself or his motives.

I make my way to the front of my cell, ignoring the sour taste at the back of my throat—the taste of residual magic. My eyes are fixated on the sight across from me.

A cavern of prison cells are cut into the shale. Row after row, level after level. They extend as far as I can see in all directions—up, down, left, right.

Inside each is a woman dressed similarly to me.

Goosebumps break out along my skin.

It looks just like my vision.

Are these the missing women?

If so, then I’m totally fucked. Des hasn’t figured the mystery out and it’s been ongoing for nearly a decade. I’m not holding my breath that that’ll change simply because I’m here.