Archer and I were taken to the lowest part of Thorne and put in one of those cells Dad had mentioned the other night. They weren’t anything like what I’d imagined; I’d been picturing steel bars, a narrow cot—like a prison. Instead, they were just caves with iron doors. We were thrown into one of the larger ones, the white rock walls slick with moisture, the only light coming from an orb like the one I’d made the other night, hovering high overhead. Power crackled throughout the room—a spell, Archer informed me, that kept anyone held in the cell from doing magic. Apparently he’d discovered that last night.

For a long time, we just sat on the damp floor, holding hands. Somewhere in the house, my dad was being put through a ritual that might kill him. I was next, and by this time tomorrow, Archer would be dead. It was too much to think about, much less talk about, so we didn’t speak for the longest time.

I watched the light flicker on the limestone walls until Archer said, “I wish we could go to the movies.”

I stared at him. “We’re in a creepy dungeon. There’s a chance I might die in the next few hours. You are going to die in the next few hours. And if you had one wish, it would be to catch a movie?”

He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. I wish we weren’t like this. You know, demon, demon-hunter. I wish I’d met you in a normal high school, and taken you on normal dates, and like, carried your books or something.” Glancing over at me, he squinted and asked, “Is that a thing humans actually do?”

“Not outside of 1950s TV shows,” I told him, reaching up to touch his hair. He wrapped an arm around me and leaned against the wall, pulling me to his chest. I drew my legs up under me and rested my cheek on his collarbone. “So instead of stomping around forests hunting ghouls, you want to go to the movies and school dances.”

“Well, maybe we could go on the occasional ghoul hunt,” he allowed before pressing a kiss to my temple. “Keep things interesting.”

I closed my eyes. “What else would we do if we were regular teenagers?”

“Hmm…let’s see. Well, first of all, I’d need to get some kind of job so I could afford to take you on these completely normal dates. Maybe I could stock groceries somewhere.”

The image of Archer in a blue apron, putting boxes of Nilla Wafers on a shelf at Walmart was too bizarre to even contemplate, but I went along with it. “We could argue in front of our lockers all dramatically,” I said. “That’s something I saw a lot at human high schools.”

He squeezed me in a quick hug. “Yes! Now that sounds like a good time. And then I could come to your house in the middle of the night and play music really loudly under your window until you took me back.”

I chuckled. “You watch too many movies. Ooh, we could be lab partners!”

“Isn’t that kind of what we were in Defense?”

“Yeah, but in normal high school, there would be more science, less kicking each other in the face.”

“Nice.”

We spent the next few minutes spinning out scenarios like this, including all the sports in which Archer’s L’Occhio di Dio skills would come in handy, and starring in school plays. By the time we were done, I was laughing, and I realized that, for just a little while, I’d managed to forget what a huge freaking mess we were in.

Which had probably been the point.

Once our laughter died away, the dread started seeping back in. Still, I tried to joke when I said, “You know, if I do live through this, I’m gonna be covered in funky tattoos like the Vandy. You sure you want to date the Illustrated Woman, even if it’s just for a little while?”

He caught my chin and raised my eyes to his. “Trust me,” he said softly, “you could have a giant tiger tattooed on your face, and I’d still want to be with you.”

“Okay, seriously, enough with the swoony talk,” I told him, leaning in closer. “I like snarky, mean Archer.”

He grinned. “In that case, shut up, Mercer.” Then he pressed his lips to mine. I was very aware of the fact that this was probably the last time we’d ever kiss, and I think he was, too. The kiss was different than any of the others we’d shared, slower and tinged with desperation. By the time it was over, we were both breathing hard, our foreheads pressed together.

“Sophie,” Archer murmured, but then the heavy iron door opened with a screech.

Kristopher was standing there, his hair blue in the orb’s light. He barely seemed to register me and Archer, turning over his shoulder to someone behind him and barking, “In here.”

Two dark figures walked into the cell, carrying a bundle between them.

Dad.

He was dressed in a black robe, similar to the one he’d worn the night of my birthday party, and his head lolled back as the two men—vampires, I realized—lowered him to the ground. At first, all I could see were those marks twining up his neck, spiraling over his cheeks and forehead like poisonous vines. In the gloom, they looked black, but I guessed they were the same dark purple as the Vandy’s.

But I didn’t care about any of that. All I cared about was the steady rise and fall of his chest and, when I grabbed his wrist, the thread pulse that beat there. “Dad,” I said softly, but he didn’t wake up. I squeezed his hand harder. Something about him felt different, and it took me a minute to realize that what I was feeling were his lack of powers. I’d been so used to tuning in to Dad’s magic, like a low-frequency radio station that only I could hear. Now there was just silence. My own powers, locked inside of me, seemed to beat against their invisible case in sympathy.

Tears dripped from my eyes, landing on his robes.

Rough hands grabbed my shoulders as the vampires pulled me to my feet. Kristopher stood in the doorway, his face impassive. “Come along, Sophia.”

I looked frantically from Dad to Archer and back again. No, this couldn’t be it. These couldn’t be the last few seconds that I’d see them. There was still so much I had to tell them.

“I’ll look out for him,” Archer said, kneeling next to Dad. “And I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Right,” I said, licking lips that were suddenly, painfully dry. “I’ll see you when I get back.” I said it like it was a mantra, or a vow. And I kept repeating it in my head. When I get back, when I get back. If Dad could live through it, I could, too.

I shook off the vampires. “I can walk,” I said. Even though my knees were wobbling so badly it was a wonder I didn’t slide to the floor, I made myself move toward Kristopher.

I followed him out of the cell, keeping my back straight and my head high.

But when we got to the base of the steps leading up to the rest of Thorne Abbey, my resolve wavered.

Standing there, waiting for me, was Mrs. Casnoff.