The bubble burst through Aubrey’s skin. She felt fur unrolling across her arms and legs and face. She pulled desperately at its edges (the police are downstairs; Mr. Stowe is there). It subsided into her gut while Kev stared, his expression a mingling of fear and rapture.
“You can change. I knew it. I knew I was right.”
Aubrey flung herself towards the smoking room door and immediately fell forward, legs locked in place. She glared at Kev as she pushed upright, trembling against frozen limbs. He held a sphere in a shaking hand; yellow potion bubbled from it, producing a fine mist that crawled across the floor and swirled about Aubrey’s legs.
“You have to stay,” Kev said. “I have more questions.”
“I won’t answer them.”
“You are the only sentient transformation—ever.”
“Not fully sentient. Ask the Academy.”
Her legs were loosening; she could flex her knees.
She said, “Let me go. You saw what I did to Dmitri.”
“He was a brute.”
“You experimented on me.”
“He didn’t care what happened to you. I did. I do.”
“Sure you care—about my insides. To impress the Academy. Lord Simon. Have you ever concocted anything original?”
Kev gasped, outraged, hand falling to his side. Aubrey leapt to the door on freed legs and pulled it open. Kev pursued her, crying threats, entreaties.
Aubrey stopped at the landing balustrade and looked down into the hall. Sir James, massive and phlegmatic, stood directly below her; Lord Simon and Mr. Stowe faced each other at the center of the hall. Beside the outside door stood the two policemen she’d met earlier and between them—
“Dmitri,” she hissed.
“—expose your secrets,” Mr. Stowe was saying to Lord Simon. “Dmitri feels no loyalty to you, to anyone. He will talk about your involvement with slum magicians.”
“Should I be quaking? The police do not concern themselves with accusations of magic.”
“They do with kidnapping and assault. Dmitri was seen attacking Miss St. Clair. He will likely be deported.”
By the door, Dmitri smirked. Of course. He would bargain away Lord Simon, even Kev, for leniency.
I don’t want Kev to get leniency.
“What are you asking for, Mr. Stowe?”
“Miss St. Clair’s return to her family,” Charles said.
Lord Simon shrugged, the shadow of that motion lifting into the rafters.
“I would hate to disappoint the Academy.”
“Their needs or your reputation, Lord Simon. Dmitri’s claims will find credence with the ministers.”
“And police authority will expand—oh, well played, Mr. Stowe.”
“The ministers will hesitate to extend that authority but only if you act promptly and send Aubrey home.”
“I can do better. I can remove the spell entirely.”
“No,” Kev whispered.
Aubrey’s hands clutched the banister. Life without the bubble, without fangs or claws. Life the way I was supposed to live it.
