He charged. The hand on my arm wrenched me backward. I tripped and spun to see that it wasn’t Lucas holding me. It was Weber.

I punched at Weber, but my fist glanced off his shoulder. His other hand sheared down. I felt something hit me between the ribs. Heard Adam’s bellow of rage. Lucaslunged through the door and cut Adam off in mid-charge. The stink of sulfur and burned flesh overwhelmed the fading smell of the gas. Lucas gasped in pain. I tried to wrench myself from Weber’s grip, but he held me fast.

“Nobody move!” Weber screeched, his voice shrill with panic. “I’ve got the girl.”

A split second of clear, if near-hysterical, thought. Of course he’d grab the girl. They always grabbed the girl. But why did I have to be the girl?

Then cool steel pressed against my throat, and I stopped thinking. The blade pressed into my throat, and blood trickled down my neck. In that moment, it seemed that even to breathe might be fatal, that with the slightest movement some vital artery would be severed. As I held my breath, I became aware of another pain, sharper and lower. My rib cage. I pressed the spot. Blood seeped through my fingers. I’d been stabbed. The thought hit me so hard I rocked, and in rocking felt the knife nick my throat again. I closed my eyes and began to count, fighting against panic.

“Move the knife away from her throat,” Lucas said, his voice even but strained.

“She—she’s my hostage.”

“Yes, I know,” Lucas said slowly. “But if you wish her to remain a viable hostage, you cannot take the chance of accidentally wounding her, so please lower that—”

A loud scuffle cut him off, as the men from the other room barreled into the kitchen. I didn’t dare look to confirm that, could only stare at the empty space in front of me. Weber tensed, and the blade dug into my throat again.

“Stand down!” Lucas shouted over the clamor. “He has a hostage. Put your weapons down!”

“Everyone against the wall,” a man barked.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am,” Lucas barked back. “I gave you an order. Lower your weapons!”

“I take my orders from the Nast—”

“You’ll take your goddamned orders from me or you’ll be regretting it into the next life! Now stand down.”

A moment of silence, then the pressure on my throat lessened.

“I want a helicopter,” Weber said. “I want—”

“You want to get out of here alive,” Lucas said, his voice returned to its usual soft, reasonable tones. “The house is surrounded by professional snipers. The moment you step into their line of sight, they will shoot.”

“I—I have a hostage.”

“And they are trained to handle that. You’ll be dead before you have time to hurt her.”

Weber hesitated, knife trembling against my throat. Adam tensed, but Lucas kept a restraining handon his shirt. Lucas’s lips moved in an incantation. Then he stopped as Weber lowered the knife.

“Good,” Lucas said. “Now you need to—”

“Esus, god of water’s great gift!” Weber shouted, sliding his fingers along the knife’s blade and flicking my blood to the floor. “Esus, hear me!”

“You don’t want to do this,” Lucas said.

Weber’s eyes rolled back and he started speaking in another language. I counted to three, then threw myself forward. He caught me, one arm going around my neck. My feet flew out as he yanked me back. Adam lunged at Weber. The knife shot to my throat. Weber yelled a warning, but Adam kept coming. The knife bit through my skin. Then Adam stumbled, thrown off balance by Lucas, who’d this time had the presence of mind to use a knock-back spell rather than touch Adam.

“Everybody stay back!” Weber shrieked.

“We will,” Lucas said, motioning Adam to move behind him. “Now, lower that knife—”

“Esus!” Weber shouted. He wiped the dripping blood from my neck and flung it to the kitchen floor. “Take this offering and deliver your loyal servant!”

Weber paused, but nothing happened. I looked at Lucas. He met my eyes and I could see his fear, but he motioned for me to stay calm and wait. Weber ran through his supplication twice. Then he waited. We all waited, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound.

“He’s not answering,” Lucas said softly. “He won’t interfere. Now, if you want to negotiate, you need to lower that knife. I won’t talk to you while you have a knife at her throat.”

Weber looked at the ceiling one last time, then lowered his gaze to Lucas. “If I lower the knife, they’ll shoot me.”

“No, they won’t. They have their weapons down, and they won’t take the chance that you can get your knife back to her throat before they aim and fire. Lower the knife…”

As Lucas continued reasoning with Weber, the knife blade quavered against my throat. One slip, one push too hard against the skin, and…oh, God, it hurt to breathe. Blood now soaked the front of my shirt, wet and clammy against my skin. Where had I been stabbed? Beneath the heart, I knew, but what was there? What organs?

And then I thought: Goddamn it, you’re standing here sniveling and hoping your boyfriend saves you before you bleed out. Typical witch.

I closed my eyes and whispered a spell. Though the words of the two men covered mine, every syllable pressed my throat against the knife blade. I ignored the pricks of pain and kept casting. As the last words left my mouth, the knife went still. I swallowed and prayed it wasn’t a coincidence. I counted to five, waiting for the knife to resume shaking. It didn’t. Another swallow, then I concentrated my all on holding the binding spell and very slowly eased sideways, away from the knife.