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looking afraid.
    Camilla’s eyes skated past her and settled coldly on Kostya. “I don’t know how I could help this young lady, since what I do isn’t welcome.”
    Kostya’s voice was a mix of command and pleading. “Don’t,” he said. “There’s a difference that you know very well.”
    She smiled again, but there was no hint of tenderness now. “Yes, let’s not argue about it again. Let’s speak of old times, then. Shall we reminisce?”
    “Camilla, please don’t,” Kostya quietly begged.
    “Like the time Lucy got thrown from her pony?” Her shrill voice broke on the last word. “That time when her neck broke and we watched her—”
    “That’s enough,” Ashford said, his harsh voice echoing in the huge chamber.
    She didn’t spare him a look, her eyes locked on Kostya. A tear ran down his cheek but he stood like a statue, so still Tilly wondered if he’d been hexed after all.
    “It won’t be enough until I get my revenge,” she spat.
    Kostya slowly shook his head. “You can’t,” he said. “You know you can’t.”
    “Do you mean to confront the Povests?” Ashford asked incredulously. “Is that what this is about?”
    “Oh, Julian, you’ve always been so slow in catching on.” Camilla’s face twisted, as if she was fighting tears, as if she’d been fighting them so long they’d dried up completely.
    “But why?” he asked, seeming as stupid as she’d accused.
    Tilly hated her with such force, she wanted to jump forward and claw her face, kick Donal’s filthy shell to the floor and just beat the tar out of her. Camilla’s cold glare cut to her before locking back on Kostya, as if she knew what she was thinking. The fire inside her was snuffed with that one icy glance and she crept closer to Ashford.
    “Do you know I got a message from them after I left the estate?” she asked, her voice eerily changed to pleasantly conversational. “They wanted me to stop practicing. I was getting too powerful for their liking, and I’m no blood of theirs so they can’t even utilize me.” She paused and sighed, waving her hand at Donal, whose head rocked to the side. “A month later, this poor lad was dead, and I’ll tell you, it wasn’t a quiet death.”
    “Why didn’t you stop when they asked you to?” Kostya asked pitifully.
    “Because they keep taking things from me,” she yelled, finally losing control.
    Kostya shook his head back and forth, holding his arms close around his body, as if trying to shield himself from something.
    “Camilla, stop now,” Ashford yelled as loudly as she did, and Tilly imagined them fighting as children.
    He let go of her hand and took a few steps forward, but Camilla threw out her palm and Donal sprang to life, his slack features changing to a vicious snarl as he raced forward. Ashford drew his gun with lightning speed and shot the creature, but once again the bullet tearing through its flesh only made it falter a moment. Camilla waved her fingers and Donal stopped, close enough to him to cover the ground in two steps if she commanded it. Ashford shakily turned the gun on her. Tilly gasped, but Camilla only laughed.
    “Are you going to shoot me, Julian?” she taunted. She locked her attention back on Kostya. “It wasn’t just Donal. They killed our daughter,” she spat. “Do you honestly think they kept their word?”
    Kostya doubled over, and Tilly hurried to his side, grabbing his arm. No, Camilla wouldn’t need to use a spell or even her monster to stop Kostya. Her words were enough to cripple him.
    “You’re wrong,” Ashford said, looking as confused as Tilly felt. “It was an accident, nothing more.”
    “He knows it as well as I do,” Camilla screeched, laughing ruthlessly. “Look at him and stop being so naive.” She finally turned away from Kostya.
    Tilly’s legs almost gave way as Donal twitched back on and headed toward her. Ashford shot it in the kneecap, which slowed the monster but didn’t stop it.
    “You don’t know