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that, if you are. I’ve never seen a djinn separate from a host before.”

A bevy of awkward glances drifted around the room.

“I guess you probably have to take it to someone more powerful, right? An old djinn or someone with Voodoo skill? They know blood better than anyone, apart from us Sanguines.” Nash waxed thoughtful, oblivious to our discomfort.

“Marie Laveau, actually,” Finch blurted out.

Nash’s eyes widened. “No way! You’re yanking my chain! Well, now I’ve definitely got to come along. I’ve wanted to meet her for years. I tried, once, to see if she could help me, but I couldn’t get through her door. Guess she didn’t want to see me, huh?”

Finch opened his mouth to reply, but whatever he said was drowned out by another voice that blasted through the entire house. It shook the walls, making everyone jump. And we knew that voice all too well.

“Hello there, you little buggers! Did you miss me?”

Thirty-Nine

Finch

Everyone covered their ears as Davin’s voice splintered our ear canals like well-aimed javelins of narcissistic assholery.

“I bet you thought you didn’t have to worry about me, in this so-called sanctuary of placated spirits.” His voice thundered, shaking the cider bottles off the table and the chintzy porcelain plates from the kitchen shelves. “That little stunt only dazzled me for a moment. Now, I have come to dazzle you with my insight, for briefly stealing my eyesight.”

“He can’t enter, right?” I sought out Melody, who clung to Luke’s side, her eyes wide with panic. “You said the spirits and Kolduny spells protect this house. Tell me he’s stuck outside, before my eardrums explode and I can’t hear you.”

Melody’s lip trembled. “There’s no way he can enter here.”

“Then how is he doing this?” Ryann shouted, covering her ears.

“He can’t get in, but that doesn’t mean he can’t hijack the audio system.” Melody talked slowly, as if putting the pieces together as she spoke. “We have a whole setup of speakers for the tourist facility, but some are hooked up in the living quarters, too—an old loudspeaker system for music, which we never use. If he’s not inside, the spirits won’t interfere.”

“Allow me to begin,” Davin bellowed. It seemed he couldn’t hear us, but that wasn’t much comfort. He had the floor, and, if I knew Davin, he was about to put Shakespeare to shame with a well-rehearsed soliloquy. “Nash, I gave you a choice. I asked you nicely to come with me of your own volition. Instead, you decided to go with those miscreants. And it’s my pleasure to let you in on a secret—they are no better than I. They are using you. At least I was honest about it, but the same cannot be said for those pernicious weeds.”

And things were going so smoothly… Everyone twisted in unison to look at Nash. He still sat in his chair, drenched in sweat, but his eyes focused on the rusty shell of an old speaker.

“What is he talking about?” Nash didn’t remove his gaze from the speaker.

Davin answered before any of us could. “Finch Merlin is the worst of them all. He hoodwinked you. If you hadn’t buried your head in the sand all these years, you might have heard that he sold himself to Erebus in exchange for murdering my beloved Eris. He wants your blood for Erebus, good little slave that he is. He must have told you a charming, touching tale to win you over, but he is in league with the Child of Darkness, and this is all for his benefit.”

Ah, dammit! I hated plot twists. And I hated this one more than most.

Nash slowly turned, his eyes narrowing. Two red freckles glinted in his irises—a lasting effect of Kadar’s unraveling. We’d put him through hell, and the guilt broiled in my belly. All the excuses and reasons in the world wouldn’t sanitize the fact that we’d lied.

“I shall give you a moment to let that sink in, Nash.” Davin chuckled through the speakers, the sound stabbing my gut.

“Tell me he’s lying,” Nash said, his voice low and threatening.

I lowered my gaze.

“Finch. Tell. Me. He’s. Lying!” Nash snarled, prompting Huntress’s hackles to rise.

What could I say? My shamefaced expression likely gave everything away. He didn’t have to be an Empath to sense that Davin told the truth. We’d been caught in our lie, and now that web would untangle.

“Tell me you didn’t do this. Tell me you’re not the same as everyone else who darkened my door to steal what isn’t theirs.” Nash stood on shaky legs, Huntress bracing to pounce. “Tell me there’s one trustworthy person left in this world.”

I lifted my gaze, figuring I owed him that. “There’s more to this than meets the eye, Nash. Davin is trying to get under your skin. Let us explain, and it will make sense.”

Nash glared. “He’s telling the truth, isn’t he?”

I looked to the others for backup, but they were all in a similar state of squirmy discomfort. We resembled a bunch of schoolkids who’d been dragged before the principal. Even Santana looked mortified, though she’d been against this entire deception. I supposed, since she hadn’t stopped us, she felt as guilty as the rest of us.

“That should be enough time,” Davin boomed, his voice reverberating through the old audio network. “Perhaps, had you relinquished Nash, I would have allowed him to believe you were a discerning gentleman, Finch. He would have gone on thinking me the villain. But you sought to defy me, as usual, and now I repay the favor in kind, revealing you for what you truly are. A user and a manipulator, like me. Your mother would be so proud.”

My cheeks flamed. Shut your insipid piehole, you cowardly amoeba!

“I will leave you with these parting words, Nash,” Davin prattled on. “Finch and his minions look after their own. You are not their friend; thus, you do not qualify. You have been had. You should have come with me from the start, for

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