Her heart in her throat and her hands in her pockets, Zoë approached the dark hillside where Tyler and his werewolves had settled in for the night. It hadn’t taken too much work to command the information from Danui that Tyler was unusually interested in the Shady Mount cemetery, a few miles away from Zoë’s house. In accordance with her plan—her plan, what was she thinking, why was anybody listening to her, especially herself—in accordance with her plan, she’d parted from Ainsel and Remy at the roadside at the foot of the hill.

The cemetery was very dark, although some spotlights illuminated the old cenotaph at the top of the hill. The near side was mostly unusued space, because it was more peaceful on the side away from the road. Mist rolled down the hillside—only a few inches thick but notable because mist didn’t usually cling to hillsides. Only a little way up the slope, near a goundskeeper’s track, was a large metal cage, its mesh construction glinting in the moonlight. Dimly, Zoë could make out a motionless lump inside. A high-contrast sign on the cage wall proudly if incongruously declared it had been constructed by a local business.

Far more clearly could she see the figures that stirred around it, turning in her direction. Nervously, she walked past them, as if she couldn’t see them in the darkness, before turning to approach them from the side. Remy had told her it would be helpful to have them as focused on her as possible. And if she could get them to even pretend to obey—well, it set a precedent, Remy said. It would help.

The plan would have been stronger if they could have brought Galbaric along, or better yet, Galbaric and Danui. But she’d decided that wasn’t required, decided that Galbaric was best used keeping Danui out of the way for now. So here she was, walking up to a pack of ravenous werewolves all by herself.

The werewolves, in human and wolf form, said nothing as Zoë approached, although they watched her in uncanny synchronicity. She almost choked under the combined weight of their gazes. Only by telling herself that she would be able to command them, by the power of Tyler within her, could she lift her head and stride forward.

Well, trudge forward. The wet grass soaked unpleasantly through her sneakers and made her wish she’d dug boots out of her garage when they’d stopped there on the way out.

Her brow furrowed as she got closer. The lump in the cage wasn’t moving. Danui had mentioned the cage and a chain, but nothing else. The back of her neck prickled and she hurried closer, until she could speak to the werewolves without raising her voice. “What’s wrong with him?”

The figures—she could barely see the faces of the human-shaped ones in the moonlight—glanced at each other before one said, “Tyler’s been keeping him quiet by having a snack.”

Zoë’s breath hissed between her teeth. Suddenly all the fury she needed to channel her inner Tyler came rushing up. “Idiots. Open the door so I can check on him.”

They exchanged looks again, and Zoë knew she wasn’t having any effect on them at all, knew they were playing along with her for some other reason. Because Tyler liked her? Or something more sinister?

“Can’t,” said the girl werewolf, smugly. “Tyler’s got the key.”

“He’s at the top of the hill. You can go and ask him if you want,” said another, and dodged a kick from the girl.

Zoë stared at them, hoping her sense of helplessness didn’t show. She was realizing that in her concern for Lucien, she’d botched her first part of the plan. Remy had wanted her to try harder to dominate the werewolves, for a longer period of time. But now she had no leverage to do that. The only thing she could do was move onto the second part: distracting Tyler, and hoping like hell Ainsel and Remy could do their part.

Slowly, feeling their eyes on her back, she climbed the hill. A centotaph that had to be as old as the town stood there. Some people thought it was a crypt, but Zoë remembered from a field trip with a particularly enthusiastic middle school history teacher that it was explicitly a cenotaph because nobody was entombed within.

She found herself wondering now about that now.

Tyler was on the far side, near the cenotaph’s entrance, looking down at the other side of the hill with its rows of tombstones. He looked up as she approached him and gave her the charming smile of the Tyler of old: a delighted Tyler, a fun Tyler.

“Zoë. C’mere.” He took two steps to her and pulled her to him in a one-armed hug. She didn’t resist, even though she both did and didn’t want to. His body felt strange against hers. Hard. Familiar. Remembered sensations both physical and emotional surged through her and she wondered if he intended to start something right here.

But although her cheeks flushed and her head spun, he didn’t do anything but hold her against him for a long moment, as if he genuinely cared for her.

“I’m glad you came,” he finally said as he loosened his grip. “Everything is in even more disarray than I thought. Something’s quivering in the air. Bradley doesn’t—” He shook his head and his grin slid back onto his face. “It’s not going to matter, though.”

“You’re really glad I came?” she demanded, pushing herself away from him. “I thought you wanted me to stay at home like a good girl and wait for you.”

He cocked his head. “Nah. That’s what I said but I knew you wouldn’t. Especially if I said that.”

“Do you know why I’m here, too?” She glared at him. He seemed to like that, after all. “You’re awfully happy about it.”

Lifting a hand, he said, “Either you came because you like me and wanted to see me, or you came to rescue Lucien. Both of those make me happy.”

“What? You want me to rescue him?” This was going very differently than she’d imagined.

“I want you to try,” Tyler corrected, and opened his palm. A key sat there. “I suppose you came for this, huh? Go on, you can take it.”

Zoë didn’t trust him, but she took it all the same. It certainly looked like the right key. But judging from the lack of commotion near the cage, she felt certain she needed to buy more time. “What is going on, Tyler?”

He glanced around. “Where are the moms, anyhow?”

Puzzled, she answered slowly. “At home. Safe. I wasn’t going to involve them with you again, not after the whammy you already put on them.”

He looked just as puzzled. “Huh. Did you come with just Danui then? I’m impressed.”

That nasty prickle at the back of her neck grew stronger. “Was Danui supposed to come with me?”

“He didn’t?” He tilted his head as if listening. “He didn’t. That’s… odd.”

“Tyler,” she said hurriedly, before he could get too curious about who she did come with, “Tell me what is going on or I’m going to scream.”

“Oh,” he said carelessly, looking back at her again. “It’s safest if your unicorn dies with the hope of escape, that’s all. If he thinks he’s accomplishing anything with his death, well… he doesn’t. It sucks, but I didn’t make the rules. So I’ve told the wolves to let you march right up and open the door. You might have a little trouble waking him but…” his nostrils flared, “I’m pretty sure he’ll wake up if you’re persistent enough. And then once you two are out—but that would be telling.” He gave her a playful smile. “You need to have hope too, in order to try. I mean, you do keep surprising me.”

Zoë stared at him, her pulse pounding in her head. Her every instinct screamed at her to run back down to the cage, to use the key, to change the plan entirely based on this information.

No commotioin. She needed to buy more time.

So instead, she pulled her arm back and hurled the key hard away from her, down the cemetery hillside, among the graves.