The moment the morning sky lightens, my brain stops sleeping.“Do you think my uncle did this to us?”“Jeez!” I press my hand to my chest to stop my heart from leaving my body. “What the fuck, Nathan!”“I couldn’t sleep.” He’s lying flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling, barely blinking.“I almost peed the bed!” Speaking of which…I set my feet on the floor and head for the bathroom. When I come back, Nathan hasn’t changed position at all.“Are you having some kind of crisis?” I ask, sliding back in beside him.“My uncle didn’t trust thralls,” he murmurs. “Why would he turn to them to do anything against me?”“What if he didn’t mean it like a bad thing?” I suggest, with the caveat, “If he did it at all.”Nathan sighs deeply.I scoot up close and throw my arm over his chest. He still hasn’t gotten a haircut, and a curl falls into his eyes. I would move it aside, but I’m lying on my only hand. “Maybe it was an accident.”“I don’t think people accidentally put spells on other peopl

Our arrival in London hasn’t gone unnoticed. I’m barely done with my oatmeal before my day is planned out for me. The biggest chunk of my time today will be taken up by a royal audience to receive members of the pack and introduce them to their new queen.I don’t have Hannah or Tara with me. Technically, Hannah’s job isn’t to be my stylist, but she does help me pick things out. And Tara knows all the flaws I’m self-conscious about, because they were put there by our mother. She’s never going to let me go out in something that makes my hips look big or my neck look short.Instead, I have a thrall who comes and tuts and frowns and tilts her head this way and that before finally giving up, I guess, and putting me in a mauve silk gown with an empire waist and a gauzy split overlay skirt. She gives me white elbow-length gloves that I have to politely explain will look goofy as heck on someone with no hand. In the end, she works a little magic with a curling iron so my hair falls in soft wa

It’s so late it’s beginning to qualify as early when we leave Wyrding House, and we sneak out like grounded teenagers. We’re definitely not dressed with a royal vibe; I’ve got on an impossibly short, super clingy long-sleeve mini-dress in an obnoxious lime and fluorescent yellow print, and Nathan is wearing gray track pants, a plain black tee shirt, and a black denim jacket with a gray hood.“You look like an undercover cop,” I whisper, leaning on him so I don’t fall off my ridiculous Lucite heels. My ponytail is so high and tight I feel like my scalp is going to pop off, and I’m fairly certain I can feel the night air on my butt cheeks.When I slide into the leather passenger seat of the waiting car, I whoop with shock at the cold.“And you look like you belong on a sleazy reality dating show,” he quips back. “At least one of us will fit in.”Nathan pulls away from the curb and doesn’t turn the car’s lights on until we’re a few streets away from the square.“Is this dangerous?” I ask

Jonah takes us to a back office that leads to another back office that opens up to a storage room with a very scary catwalk staircase up to the second floor. I’m pretty sure we’re about to be murdered when Jonah ushers us up it and through a beaded curtain, into a room lit up with black light.The floor is painted black, with sigils and symbols in glowing phosphorescent colors. There are beanbag chairs scattered around the perimeter of the room, and an impressively tall hookah in one corner. Shelves hold jars of herbs and dirt and murky liquids I want nothing to do with.“So, where do we…” I look around. Clearly the bean bags are one disgusting option, judging from the very unflattering smears and spatters the black lights are revealing.Jonah’s teeth glow comically blue in the light. “Hey, that’s up to you. Just not on the worktable.”He’s talking about the huge workbench tucked into an l-shaped corner. He opens a laptop and types something in.“No spell books? Dusty scrolls?” Nathan

We stagger back into Wyrding House just before sun-up and strip out of our “disguises.”“I need to take like four showers and burn this dress,” I say with a grimace, holding the garment up with two fingers. “I cannot believe how foul that room was.”“Blacklight is perhaps not the best choice of illumination there,” Nathan agrees. “But you should consider getting some sleep before showering.”“I just shot-gunned a Red Bull two hours ago,” I remind him. “I’m up.”He glances toward the bathroom. “What about a soak?”There’s a jacuzzi tub big enough for two in the bathroom, and just the suggestion of it is a siren call to my sore body. “You’ve convinced me.”A little while later, Nathan and I are immersed up to our necks in the ridiculously deep tub. We lean against opposite sides, his legs on either side of me, my feet on his shoulders.“Do you think the spell will still work, now that we know it’s there?” I ask, wriggling my wrinkly toes against his cheek playfully.He pushes my foot as