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“They can do that?” I gape at her, horrified. “Just steal it like that?”
She levels her violet gaze on me. “They can do damn near anything if they set their minds to it.”
“All the liquid in your body? Like your blood?”
Eira turns to Deissy. “I’m a siren. Our lives and magic are tied to water, making us damn powerful under normal circumstances. Something the council is painfully aware of. Therefore, to keep me from interfering—which they likely deemed was a possibility—they set up wards that will remove that water from my body, killing me in the process.” She glances over at Fearghas, who is staring out a window, back turned to us. “If he hadn’t been there, I doubt I would have made it out of the warded area.”
“A siren, wow. That’s—I would love to know more about that later.”
Silence consumes us as we consider the predicament. We could go full assault on the place, without Eira, obviously, but if our group couldn’t fight their way out, we sure as hell don’t stand a chance at getting in.
“We could find a way to disable the wards?” Deissy offers. “Are they like alarm systems?”
“Magical alarm systems,” I say. “They are tied to a witch’s magic. Typically, a very strong one.”
“Shit.”
“We can’t leave them in there,” Fearghas says. “We won’t.”
“So, they go off when they sense magic?” Deissy asks.
“Yes,” I snap. “This is not the time for a magical lesson; you need to go.”
“What about me?”
I whirl on her. “What about you? I said you need to go.”
“I’m not magic.” She bites down on her bottom lip, focusing on the corner of the wall and not on me. “And neither is that police captain—Paloma. Or my fiancé, Felix.”
“Who knows nothing about any of this.”
“No,” she says. “We’ll just have to fill him in.”
“You can’t expect us to send three humans into a supernatural council building. It’s murder for us and suicide for you.”
“First of all, it’s not murder if I volunteer. And second, I owe Tarnley and Bronywyn my life. Twice now, he’s saved me. I can’t just let him die if there might be something I can do about it.”
“We don’t know that there’s anything you can do about it,” Eira says softly. “It’s noble of you to want to help, but this may be beyond any of us.”
Fearghas roars and whirls, slamming his fist into the wall. Sheetrock gives way beneath his anger, and the dust fills the air around him before falling to the ground. “There has to be a way to get them out!”
“Fearghas,” Eira starts.
“No. Don’t you fucking dare tell me there’s no hope. Call that Brad guy, the one Tarnley mentioned. Have him put together a fucking army, and let’s tear the place apart. Brick by fucking brick if that’s what it takes.”
“He likely won’t have time to assemble one before they’re executed.”
“No, no, no, fuck no. We’re not leaving them to die. Dumbasses never should have gone!”
“They had good intentions,” Eira offers softly.
The fae shakes his head and falls silent.
“We may be humans, but if we can sneak in and find the cells, I believe we can get them out.”
“Except everyone who knows the layout of that place is currently inside,” I remind her.
“Not everyone.”
