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No. Goddamn him, no. Patrick and his games. His endless games. I struggled to leap up, open my eyes, but I was still trapped there, as if asleep.

Patrick continued, "So what will it be? Free yourself from the prospect of a life in prison or Olivia from the fevers and the visions?"

Did Patrick know I was awake and listening? Was that the game? Force Gabriel to choose himself over me, after I'd proven I'd do the opposite? I knew which Gabriel would pick. I didn't care. I could live with the visions. I could not live with myself if he went to jail because he got mixed up with me.

"Exoneration or a cure," Gabriel said. "That is my choice?"

"It is."

"And my decision will remain between us?"

"Of course."

"I mean that, Patrick. I will demand your word on it. Whatever I choose, Olivia will never know that I had a choice. Correct?"

"You have my word."

"Then cure her."

No! The word echoed in my head, but I couldn't move, no matter how hard I struggled, fighting against the prison of my body.

You son of a bitch, Patrick. You goddamned--

"I wish I could," Patrick said. "Sadly, I cannot. Nor do I know anything that would set you free. It was a hypothetical."

A thud. A gasp and a hard thump, and then Patrick, wheezing as if struggling for breath. "While I applaud your reflexes, Gabriel, I might suggest that it's unwise to target me with them."

Gabriel's voice came low, razor-edged. "As it is unwise to target me with your games, Patrick. Particularly if they involve Olivia."

"I see that." A grunt, as if Patrick was pulling himself up off the floor. "I apologize for the trick. I believe I did pose it as a hypothetical, and if you misunderstood--"

I shot upright so fast I started falling. Gabriel's reflexes saved me from that ignoble fate, though I might wish he'd caught me by the arm or the shoulders instead of grabbing me by the collar, leaving me dangling like a kitten. A choking kitten. He released me fast enough, letting me settle upright onto the sofa.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Fine." I looked around, getting my bearings. Seeing Patrick watching, I got to my feet. "I think we should leave now."

"I would agree."

Gabriel stood between me and Patrick, as if blocking him, while I rose and started for the door.

"Wait," Patrick said. "We need to discuss--"

"Nothing," I said. "We need to discuss nothing."

"I can explain the spina bifida. It's--"

"One of the side effects of fae blood. One of many, apparently. Now, if you'll excuse us . . ."

"I believe I can shed more light on the subject and what may have happened with your parents."

"No, thank you," I said. "I'll find my answers elsewhere."

"I can help with Gabriel's case."

That slowed my steps, and even when Gabriel murmured, "Keep going," and I knew he was right, I couldn't help myself. I turned to Patrick.

"That's what Gabriel and I were discussing when you were recuperating," he said. "While I don't have any answers, I do have a few ideas. Leads, as you'd say. I could pursue them, if you'd like."

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