“So I assume Sebastian is upstairs using his magic,” Wesley said, scrambling up to his feet. “What is Mateo de Leon’s condition?”
“Dehydrated and hungry, I suspect,” said Jade. “There’s food and water in his room, but it’s untouched. My guess is staff brings him meals, but he’s been completely lost to his seeing and no one’s been making sure he eats and drinks since the earl and Mercier went to London. As for his mind, well.” She grimaced. “Sebastian’s trying to bring him back, and I’m sorry, Lord Fine, but you’re not going to be able to stand upright while he does.”
“We’ll be useful another way.” Zhang pulled Wesley’s arm, away from the bookshelf and toward the door.
Wesley gestured around the room, at the many pillars that held antiques in glass cases. “You suspect some of these items are paranormal, don’t you? What if more of them belong to Sebastian’s family—should we not take whatever we can with us?”
“We can’t,” said Zhang, hurrying toward the door. “We can’t use our bare hands to grab a bunch of magical items when we don’t know what they do, and that goes double for you since you don’t have magic. I’m sure there will be at least one that can kill on contact.”
“Charming,” Wesley said dryly. “But then what? We can’t leave them here.”
“We’ll come back,” Zhang promised. “But people first. Let’s find a way to get the others out of here.”
Mateo had been nineteen the last time Sebastian saw him. Now he had a wild beard and hair, like he hadn’t groomed in days, and Sebastian could never make up for three lost years if he couldn’t bring him back. Mateo’s magic was choking him, like living vines grown around him to bury him alive.
Sebastian kept his hands on his brother and tried not to panic. Jade had returned, and was kneeling at his side to check Mateo’s pulse and pupils.
“Sebastian,” she said softly. It couldn’t have been pleasant, to have her magic so suppressed by his, but she hadn’t complained. “What do you think’s happened to him?”
“I think Blanshard and Mercier forced him into the future somehow,” Sebastian said tightly. “I’ve suppressed his magic a thousand times and it’s never been this strong before. It’s as strong as Mercier’s magic was in that alley in London.”
“And you, are you all right?” There was a hint of strain in her voice. “Your magic is coming off you very strong too. How long can you keep this up?”
He didn’t know. The horses’ reins of his magic were straining his control like trying to hang on to a stampede. Magic poured through him so intensely he felt it in his bones, but he gritted his teeth against the pain. If his brother’s mind depended on it, hewouldfind the strength, like an opera singer pushing their limit on an aria, or a runner’s last reserves with the finish line in sight. He reached as deep as he’d done that night in the alley, when he’d seen Lord Fine on fire, pouring all of his magic onto the magic that held Mateo hostage.
And then Mateo’s eyelashes fluttered. “Sebastian?”
Sebastian’s breath left him in a rush. “Quien pensaste, who did you think,” he said, tacking English on for Jade. He pulled his magic back into himself, muscles aching like he’d lifted a boulder. He wiped at his own brow, and it came away damp with sweat.
Mateo blinked blearily up at him. “You’re not here, you’re a vision.”
“Of course I’m here.” Sebastian reached behind Mateo’s shoulders, to prop him up. “You know I must be here because your magic can’t see me.”
“But I did see you.”
Sebastian’s hands faltered. Tired, Mateo was tired and talking nonsense. They had to get him out of here and keep him out of the future, that was what mattered right now.
“Stay with me,” he said to Mateo, more a plea than an order.
Mateo nodded once, his eyes fluttering to half-closed.
Sebastian got a few sips of water into Mateo as Jade disappeared down the stairs to reopen the bookcase door. “What did they do to you, Teo?” he said, pretending his own hand wasn’t shaky where it held the glass to Mateo’s lips.
“Blanshard.” Mateo’s voice was hoarse from disuse. “He doesn’t just drain the auras. He steals them, drinks them down, absorbs their life force into himself to strengthen his own magic. And now, with the brooch, he can pump them into another paranormal. That’s what he did to Jack Mercier, and his fire is too strong now.”
He looked at Sebastian with glazed eyes. “Blanshard wanted me to see his future. I refused, but he pushed that stolen energy into me and I couldn’t stop it. And once my magic was that strong, I couldn’t find my way out of the visions. I don’t know what I told him while I was lost, Sebi—what if I helped himkillpeople?”
“Oh, Teo.” Sebastian’s hands tightened on his brother. “It’s not your fault,” he promised. “I know what it is like to be used as another’s tool but itisn’t your fault, te lo prometo. We’re going to keep you out of the future, now, it’s going to be okay.”
But Mateo’s eyes were already falling shut again. Zhang’s astral projection popped back into the room. “There’s a servants’ staircase around the corner that leads to the ground floor,” he said. “Lord Fine’s gone ahead—he left the stairway window open for us and he’s almost at the car. Let’s hurry.”
Sebastian helped Mateo to his feet, only to find his own limbs weak and shaky. With the help of Jade and her returned telekinesis, they got Mateo down the stairs, and Jade telekinetically shut the bookshelf behind them.
“The stolen items,” Sebastian muttered, as they followed Zhang’s astral projection out of the trophy room, each with one of Mateo’s arms slung over their shoulders. Mateo’s feet stumbled, but Jade seemed to catch them with telekinesis every time.
“We’ll come back,” Jade promised, with anger in her voice. “Blanshard doesn’t get to rob half the paranormal world and keep the spoils.”
They navigated the narrow servants’ staircase another flight down. Zhang’s physical body met them at the open window. “This way, hurry.”
