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“What happened to you?” Mira asked, trying to figure out if she could heal him. “What spell did he use on you?”

“I…” He coughed up more black fluid. “…I don’t know.”

He gulped and then his eyes widened and stilled. She checked his pulse. He was gone. “Fuck.” She sighed.

Dawson placed his hand over the dead Wielder.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Sometimes you can still feel remnants of dark spells.”

She had never heard of Wielders being able to do that, but Dark Magic wasn’t her specialty. It was, however, his. While she was trying to make sense of it, Dawson’s face paled in a way she hadn’t seen before. He knew. There was certainty in his gaze.

“What is it?” she asked.

He had gone entirely still, every muscle in his body rigid. He dropped the spell and grabbed her by her arm. “We should go.”

“Not before you tell me what this is.”

“I’m not sure. I’ll have Obryn look at it.”

“I saw it in your face. You know exactly what you’re looking at.”

The grip on her arm tightened. “You think you know me so fucking well, Winters? You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“How could I, since you always keep things from me?”

She could feel his control slipping as she noticed his teeth biting together hard. “We’re leaving now.”

Right when he was about to coin travel them away, she cast a shield around herself so he couldn’t take her with him. It took less than a second, and a very angry crack, for him to reappear in the room beside her.

She crossed her arms. “I told you; I’m not leaving until you fill me in on what’s going on here.”

He looked about ready to explode. Whatever this was, it was personal to him, and that only made her more curious. The front door opened. Steps. Dawson’s eyes widened at her as if to say, Let’s fucking go.

She shook her head, hoping he would rather tell her than let her be in harm’s way.

“All right, boys, let’s see where the doctor’s little patient is,” one of the men in the living room said.

“I fucking can’t stand looking at their faces,” another responded.

Dawson’s nostrils flared. He walked up to her, pulling her close. She gathered White Magic to be able to shield in case he tried to coin travel her again.

“Different dark spells. They shouldn’t work together, but I can see what he was attempting,” he whispered with fast determination. “Designed to control a subject but on a permanent basis.”

The steps of the men sounded closer.

Enthrallment spells were highly powerful Dark Magic only a few Wielders in history possessed. The person under the spell would do anything the Wielder commanded, but it only worked for a specific period of time. The spells were never permanent. Ever.

“That’s impossible,” she responded quietly.

“It’s not. Can we go now, Winters?”

“What do you mean it’s not impossible?” She stared at him, and he looked physically ill.

He clenched his jaw. She was so close to the truth, she could taste it.

“Dawson?”