Seraphina woke to the rumble of tires on asphalt, her head pounding, the world muffled by the coarse hood over her face. Her wrists burned, bound tight behind her with zip ties that bit into her skin. The air inside the van was stale, thick with the smell of sweat and motor oil, and every jolt sent a spike of pain through her skull.

Her mouth tasted of chemicals, the memory of that damp cloth pressed against her lips flashing back. She’d been careless, too focused on the first aid kit, on Silas’s blood, on Kael’s voice calling her Phina. Now she was here, trapped, and still, her mind immediately...