Hans whispered words over her before turning Jolie and giving her a little push. “Five minutes.”

Five minutes? Oh. To find her gift. “I’d like a few tarts, please.” She glanced over her shoulder, and the coloring in his cheeks deepened.

Jolie made her way to the broom closet and stepped in. The third hook from the right. She put her finger under it and lifted. A click sounded, and the back wall moved away, revealing a richly decorated room full of literal treasure. Only how would she know her gift from everything else?

A new memory unraveled, showing a secret drawer hidden by magic in a jewelry cabinet to her right.

She headed over and whispered words as they filled her mind.

The drawer appeared and opened. Inside sat a small box with a note.

Put this in thine pocket. Have thine companion place an enchantment on it, then follow mine instructions. They’re in the bottom of the box. Do this at one in the morning under the full moon. Thou must hurry. Trust thine companions but no other. At a desperate moment, trust not thine instincts.

Her heart ratcheted. A gift and a warning.

She pocketed the box and note, then whispered the same words and turned. A shade walked in, one in the shape of a man, and she jumped. He stopped and faced her.

“Begone!” Johnny waved away the shade.

It spun, but something sucked it down through the ground.

Jolie gasped for air. A shade. They were dangerous.

Johnny waved her over, so she sprinted to him, her pulse racing in her ears. Never before had she experienced something from the other side of the veil, the one that kept the mortal world blind and safe to what else roamed the earth.

“We have to hurry.” He grabbed her hand and hauled her from the secret room and broom closet. “Drink your tea, grab some tarts, then put on your things. We have to get out of here.”

But, surely they had more time. They hadn’t even been there for a full half-an-hour.

Her heart thudded. Something must’ve happened. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. She was supposed to go in, find the three sacred artifacts, give part of her lifeforce to energize the shield, then sing the song of healing, make a small sacrifice to appease her family’s gods, and go home. Two days. Easy peasy, though she’d only live for another twenty years tops. But it wasn’t something she had a choice in. And the fact she had the visions before her sister… Unease stirred in her gut.

Hans packed tarts into a metal tin and pointed at a cup of steaming tea. “The knights are battling out front. I’ll have to reverse my spell before we walk out the door, and when we do, you have to take us to a safe place. Dear, I need you to sift through your memories. Think like yourself, not anyone before you.”

Weakness filtered through her, but she picked up the cup and blew in it.

“It’s just cool enough. Hurry. It’s important you drink the entire contents.”

Epia said to drink, too. It must’ve had some manner of protection enchantment.

Something crashed outside. The knights.

Jolie put the cup to her mouth and downed the liquid, just cool enough not to burn her tongue or throat. She drank every last drop—the cup left her grasp, and Hans grabbed her hand and hurried from the kitchen, setting the cup on the counter. It fell and shattered.

“Your ancestor will forgive me. Come.”

She stumbled along while he whispered words in another language.

Her heart grew heavy, and a vice squeezed her chest. Their time was definitely up. Jolie helplessly clung to Hans’s arm for security.

A soprano carried from Johnny, joined in by a deep chant from Hans.

Warmth wrapped around her like a blanket.

Warmth. Her coat. She needed it, her hat, and gloves. But death was hunting them. She could find something else later, but they had to get out of there, and quick.

The moment they reached the door, the scent of rotting wood and a thick musk choked off her air.

Hans pulled her closer, opened the door, and ran out.

People in old fashioned refinery stopped walking along the worn street and gawked at them.

People? That place was secret. No one else should—

“Focus, dear. A safe place.”

She turned west and took a step, yet paused. Was it the right way? She continued while sifting through memories until one jumped out. “Hans.” Her voice wavered. “My body’s going the wrong way.”

He ran in front of her and picked her up. “Wrap your arms and legs around me and tell me where to go.”

She flexed—an invisible weight filled her limbs like sand. Yet she managed to get her arms around him, then dragged her legs upward and wrapped them around his waist and hooked her ankles. “Behind me, head east.” She used a hushed voice. “There’s a simple furniture shop. Three short knocks on the glass, one hard knock, and a swift kick in the lower left corner of the door.”

He took off running, and she clung to him, Johnny zipping alongside, loading a crossbow.

The blanket of snow on the ground moved like water parting after a speedboat.

A low, ominous growl thundered, shaking the molecules of the air.

Her heart lodged in her throat. Death.

Two angelic impressions slammed into a massive demonic beast, who reared its head back and roared again.

“Close your eyes.” Hans’s command reached her ears.

A pair of red glowing eyes locked on her before she could shut them.

Silence swallowed her. No noise, no footsteps pounding the ground. Just a jostling movement around the corners of her tunneling vision.

Cold seared her eyes, forcing her lids closed. She whimpered as tears burned her sensitive eyes.

“Sorry, miss, but you were enthralled.” Johnny’s voice was close.

“Thanks.” She sniffled and cried as pain scratched and burned behind her lids.

Boyish laughter hit her. “So funny. I hurt you and you thank me.”

Whispered words vibrated through her chest from Hans. A moment later, he rapped three times on glass, once hard, then jerked with a kick. Hinges creaked in protest. He moved, footsteps following, and the door shut.

The light dimmed behind her lids, yet her eyes still burned, so she couldn’t open them.

“What is this place?” His voice was hushed.

She pressed herself against him, his beard tickling her skin. It’d probably feel amazing if he lightly rubbed it against her. She swallowed and focused. “Where Mary used to hide from her drunken dad. One night he got out of control and killed her mom, then set the house on fire. Only Mary’s brother Joshua pulled her out the window on the first floor and gave her a special spell. It’d hide her from those she feared most.”

“It must work for her descendants.” His voice was louder, stronger. “Dear, what is it you fear most?”

She shivered. In that moment, what was hunting her. “Death.”

His hand rubbed her back, taking the edge off. “It’ll be all right, Jolie.”

“You knew.” The words spewed from her before she could stop them.

Silence greeted her.

“Sir, what do we do now?” Johnny’s voice was quiet, a note of desperation lingering in the undertones. “There won’t be a town to search if we wait too long.”

She tightened her hold on him. It couldn’t be. The spells, the wardens, the shield. Everything every witch before her did was to protect it all.

“We ran in the opposite direction, Johnny. The third artifact I need is close and out of harm’s way. Or so I believe.”

Then maybe he didn’t have all the answers.

Jolie unhooked her ankles and lowered her legs before easing her hold on the man and sliding down his front. Heat spiraled through her, and she swallowed again.

“You’ve done well to trust me, dear. Stay here with Johnny. I’m going to have a look around.” His footsteps receded, stealing the warmth of his body with them.

“Kneel, please.”

Considering the pair had saved and helped her so much, she’d be an idiot not to listen. So Jolie knelt.

A hand covered her eyes.

An angelic voice sang, and the pain dissipated. “There. They should be fine now.”

She peeked through her lashes. There wasn’t any burning or discomfort. She opened them all the way. Johnny aged, no longer a young boy, but closer to a preteen.

A glint flashed in his eyes. “Don’t ask.” His voice was deeper.

Her heart stammered. He’d aged. And right in front of her. What magic was that?

She meandered to a chair and sat, Johnny taking another chair, and together, they waited in amiable silence.

After a few long minutes, Hans returned and gave her a charming, lopsided smile, warming her cheeks. “I found a cloak with a note attached. It seems Mary knew you’d come and would need it.”

A rush coursed through her. Another ancestor helping her from the beyond.

He held up a dark cloak made for a woman of high society back in the days of monarchs. Only it was much too thin to keep out the cold. He wrapped it around her. “It’s enchanted. Will keep you warm.” His gaze shifted to Johnny and rounded before darting back to Jolie, and once again to the boy before he full out grinned. “This is good news.”

What was?

Johnny’s arms folded over his chest. “It is, but I wasn’t expecting it. Better not to hope, though I’m glad. For the moment. We’ll see what happens next.”

It was odd the way mature words poured from him.

His blue-grey gaze glued on her, both hope and defeat warring within them.

An ache settled in her heart. “Is there something I can do to help?” She more than owed them both.

Hans took a knee next to her and grasped her hands, his warm and strong. “Just keep doing what you’re doing, dear.” He reached into a large pocket and pulled out a little tin. In three words, it grew. “Have some tarts. You didn’t eat at Epia’s.” He pulled the lid off and held it to her.

Steam rose and curled from the five delights. She picked one up, but neither of them did. “Aren’t you guys going to have some?”

Johnny’s gaze fell to the tin, and his lips twitched, but he shook his head.

“Eat what you want first.” Hans held the tin closer to her. “We had a couple already.”

She bit into hers. Warm, buttery, flaky crust surrounded a sweet and tangy filling. A moan slipped from her. How they stopped at just two was crazy. She picked one up and handed it to Johnny, then grabbed another and pushed it at Hans. “Please don’t make me eat alone. It’s better to enjoy it with others.”

She waited until they each took a bite before having another. It was finger licking good. The kind to savor every crumb.

When she finished hers, Hans gave her the last tart. “You need to eat. It was sweet of you to share, but we’ve had our fill. Eat and rest. I need to think of a way to get out of here unnoticed.”