Trial by Fire

Peering inside at the startled patrons, Lily’s eyes locked with a young man’s. They were dark eyes, such a deep brown they were nearly black. His eyes widened, momentarily, stunning Lily both with their intensity and with the recognition she saw inside of them. She’d never seen him before, but he knew her. The young man stood up from his table abruptly, tipping his heavy chair to the ground behind him. His lean body was tense and his angular face was immobile with fury. She saw his fists clench and his lips mouth a single, unmistakable word. “Lillian.”


The malice she saw in him was breathtaking. He hated her—really hated her—and he looked like he wanted to hurt her. The dark-eyed boy took one stiff step toward her. Lily turned and ran.

The monsters chained to the bottom of the green towers roared at Lily as she streaked past. She shied away from them with horror even though they were chained and couldn’t get at her as long as she stayed on the sidewalk.

Lily could hear the footsteps of the boy with the dark eyes behind her. He was gaining on her easily. Any vestiges of the adrenaline rush she’d experienced when she had found herself surrounded by men with crossbows was long gone. She was still dangerously drained from the seizure and from the fact that she hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before. After running only a few blocks, Lily’s legs were turning to jelly, her inner ears were burning, and all she could hear was the ragged wheeze of her own breathing. A cold sweat broke out across her upper lip and down her back, but her head still felt unbearably hot. Lily knew this feeling. It meant she was going to faint.

In a desperate effort to shake off her enraged pursuer before she passed out, Lily darted down a narrow alley, hoping to hide until the dark-eyed boy ran past. She took several sharp turns, ducked into a low niche in the solid wall of stone and crouched down, trying to hide herself in the shadows before he rounded the last corner.

Her legs shook and she half sat, half fell into what she belatedly realized was a garbage-filled drainage grate. She heard his footsteps pounding past her, then held her breath when she heard the footsteps stop and turn. A pair of black boots pointed into her disgusting niche, blocking most of the light. She heard him sigh.

“You know you can’t hide from me, Lillian,” said a deep, rich voice. The ringing in Lily’s head turned to clanging, and her ears popped. Two hands reached in and scooped up her spent body. The young man placed her on her feet and examined her sweaty face carefully. Lily’s vision was wobbling in and out of focus, but she could have sworn the dark-eyed boy actually looked worried for a moment.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“You know damn well it’s me,” he said angrily. He searched her eyes, and realized that she truly didn’t recognize him. “Rowan,” he said slowly. Lily shook her head, the action making her wobble unsteadily. His expression changed. “What did you take, Lillian? Belladonna?”

Rowan ran a hand over her face in a clinical way, checking her for fever like he had been her doctor for years. His hands were warm, but they still made Lily shiver. He trailed sensitive fingertips down the sides of her throat, feeling lightly over her glands. Confusion darkened his face.

“Where’s your willstone?” The anger and impatience she’d sensed in him earlier were completely gone. He looked afraid now, as afraid and lost as Lily felt.

“Help me, Rowan? Please,” Lily begged, figuring she had nothing left to lose.

She saw his dark eyes narrow with suspicion. He hooked a finger into the divot at the bottom of her throat, pressing hard on a sensitive point buried deep inside that U-shaped hollow. A chill swept up Lily’s already exhausted body, and she blacked out.




Gideon pushed his way into Lillian’s chamber. It should have been sealed, impossible for him to enter, but the heavy door swung open with the slightest nudge from his willstone. Lillian must be very ill, he thought. Or dead.

“What are you doing here?” Juliet asked.