The underground clinic was hidden beneath a laundromat in one of the city's older districts. Zoey wouldn't have found it without Prometheus's coordinates. The entrance was concealed behind a row of industrial washing machines, accessed through a door that looked like a maintenance closet but opened onto a narrow staircase leading down. The walls were reinforced concrete, covered in magji wards that hummed with protective energy.
Dr. Yewon was waiting for them at the bottom. He was a small man, Korean, with silver-streaked hair. He took one look at Alicia's ravaged throat and immediately began barking orders to his assistants, two younger magjistars who appeared from side rooms, already pulling on surgical gloves.
"Poison daemon," Dr. Yewon said. It wasn't a question. "The Toad Ring stabilized her, but the toxin is already in her bloodstream. Get her on the table. Now."
Zoey laid her mother down on the operating table, her hands shaking. Alicia looked so small like this. So fragile. The woman who had raised her, who had worried about her fighting career, who had basically created Zoey into the woman she is now, reduced to a pale, barely-breathing body on a metal slab.
"You need to leave," Dr. Yewon said, already preparing instruments. "All of you. The waiting room is down the hall."
"I'm not leaving her."
"You'll leave or I'll have you removed." The doctor's eyes met Zoey's, and there was no give in them. "I can't work with you hovering. Your mother needs surgery, and she needs it now. Every second you waste arguing is a second she doesn't have."
Bruce's hand landed on Zoey's shoulder. "Come on," he said quietly. "Let the doctor work."
Zoey wanted to argue. Wanted to stay, to watch, to make sure nothing went wrong. But Bruce was right, and she knew it. She let herself be guided out of the operating room, Everett trailing behind them like a ghost. The waiting room was small and sterile, with plastic chairs and fluorescent lighting that made everyone look sick. Tiffany had followed them down, silent and watchful. Tink had retreated into Zoey's pocket, the small fairie's presence a warm weight against her hip. They sat. And they waited.
…
The surgery took four hours. Four hours of sitting in those plastic chairs, staring at the door, waiting for news. Bruce held Everett close, the boy's face buried in his father's chest. Neither of them had spoken since leaving the warehouse. Zoey couldn't blame them. What was there to say?
Tiffany sat in the corner, uncharacteristically quiet. Every so often she would glance at Zoey, as if wanting to say something, but she always thought better of it. Zoey's mind wouldn't stop racing. She replayed the confrontation over and over, searching for the moment where she could have done something different. Could have been faster. Could have saved her mother without...
Without killing Ethan. She looked down at her hands. She'd washed the blood off in the clinic's bathroom, scrubbing until her skin was raw, but she could still feel it. Still see it. The way her fist had punched through his chest like it was nothing. The look in his eyes as he died.
He'd been a criminal. A human working with daemons, helping Poison build her empire. Helped kidnap her family.
'Stop thinking about some fuck wad that helped your mom nearly die,' Inner Zoey said. 'He made his choice. You didn't know he was going to jump in the way.'
'I wasn't feeling guilty. I'd do it again if I could, just this time I'd make sure to include Poison so that they died together.'
'Good.' Inner Zoey's voice was harsh, but not unkind. 'Forbidden love between a human and a daemon. Like some fucked up Xomeo and Zuliet.'
'Mom almost died because of me.'
'Mom almost died because of the demon. Don't get it twisted.'
The door opened. Dr. Yewon emerged, pulling off his surgical mask. His face was impossible to read.
"She's alive," he said.
Zoey's legs nearly gave out. Bruce let out a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh. Everett looked up, hope flickering in his eyes for the first time since this nightmare began.
"However," Dr. Yewon continued, and that hope immediately dimmed, "the situation is complicated. The physical damage to her throat was severe but repairable. The Toad Ring did excellent work stabilizing her; without it, she would have been dead before you reached me."
"But?" Zoey asked.
"The poison." Dr. Yewon's expression darkened. "It's not like anything I've seen before. It's not just killing tissue... it's persistent. I've neutralized the active toxin, but there are traces of it throughout her system that I can't fully purge. They've settled into her nervous system, particularly around the brain."
"What does that mean?"
"It means she's in a coma." Dr. Yewon removed his gloves, disposing of them in a nearby bin. "Her body is alive, her heart is beating, but her mind..." He shook his head. "I don't know when she'll wake up. I don't know if she'll wake up. And if she does, I can't predict what her condition will be. The poison may have caused permanent damage to her vocal cords, her motor functions, her cognitive abilities. There's simply no way to know until, unless, she regains consciousness."
The words hit Zoey like physical blows. Coma. Permanent damage. No way to know.
"Can I see her?" Bruce asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes. But she won't respond. She's stable for now, but..." Dr. Yewon trailed off. "I'm sorry. I did everything I could."
Bruce nodded and walked past him into the recovery room, Everett following close behind. Zoey stayed where she was, frozen, trying to process what she'd just heard. Her mother was alive. But she might never wake up. And even if she did, she might never speak again. Might never be the same person she was before. Because of Poison.
…
Elizabeth Sinclair arrived like a hurricane. Zoey heard her before she saw her: the rapid click of expensive heels on concrete, followed by a voice that could strip paint off walls.
"Where the fuck is he?! Someone better start talking before I lose my goddamn mind!"
The door to the waiting room burst open, and there she stood. Golden hair disheveled, green eyes wild with fear and fury, designer clothes thrown on haphazardly like she'd dressed while running. The future head of the Sinclair family looked nothing like the composed aristocrat she usually presented to the world. She looked terrified.
"Everett!" Elizabeth's eyes found him immediately, sitting in the corner, pale and shell-shocked but alive. Her whole body sagged with relief for exactly one second before she crossed the room in three quick strides and threw herself at him.
"Oh my god. Oh my fucking god." She grabbed his face in her hands, turning it side to side, checking for injuries. "Are you hurt? Did those pieces of shit touch you? I swear to god, Everett, if they laid a single finger on you..."
"I'm okay," Everett mumbled, his voice small and exhausted. "Lizzy, I'm okay. They didn't hurt me."
"Don't you dare fucking lie to me right now." Elizabeth's hands moved from his face to his shoulders, his arms, his chest, patting him down like she was checking for hidden wounds. "I will literally murder everyone in this building if you're hiding an injury from me."
"I'm not lying. I'm not hurt. I promise."
Elizabeth stared at him for a long moment, her green eyes searching his face. Then something in her crumbled, and she pulled him into a fierce embrace, one hand cradling the back of his head like he was something precious and fragile.
"I thought I lost you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "When I heard what happened, when I found out some fucking daemon had taken you..." She couldn't finish the sentence. Her shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.
"I'm here." Everett's arms came up to wrap around her. "I'm okay. I'm here."
"You better fucking be." Elizabeth pulled back, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Her mascara was ruined, black streaks running down her cheeks, but she didn't seem to care. "Because if you ever get kidnapped again, I'm going to kill you myself. Do you understand me? I will literally end you."
Despite everything, the trauma, the fear, the exhaustion, Everett managed a weak smile. "That doesn't make sense."
"I don't care if it makes sense! I'm pregnant and emotional and my boyfriend just got kidnapped by a psycho daemon bitch, so nothing has to make sense right now!"
Zoey watched the exchange from across the room, something complicated twisting in her chest. Joy for her brother, that he had found someone who loved him this fiercely. Rage at Poison, for trying to destroy all of this. Elizabeth seemed to remember they had an audience. She straightened up, wiping her face again, and turned to look at Zoey.
"Sister-in-law," Elizabeth said. "The daemon. Tell me about her."
"Her name is Poison. Second-Grade. Green hair, glasses, runs a criminal organization."
"She's fucking dead." Elizabeth's voice was flat and cold, all trace of vulnerability gone. "I don't care how long it takes or how many resources I have to burn through. That bitch touched my family. She's dead."
"Get in line," Zoey said.
"I'm serious, Zoey. The Sinclair family has connections. Resources. We can mobilize..."
"So can I." Zoey met her future sister-in-law's eyes. "Poison is mine. She came after my family because of me. She hurt my mother because of me. I'm going to be the one who kills her."
Elizabeth studied her for a long moment. Then, surprisingly, she nodded.
"Fine. But if you need backup, if you need anything, you call me. The Sinclairs owe you for protecting Everett."
"I didn't protect him. He got taken right along with everyone else."
"But you got him back." Elizabeth's hand moved to rest on her still-flat stomach, a gesture that was probably unconscious. "You got all of them back. That's more than most people could have done against a daemon like that." She paused. "I know how strong you are, Zoey. If that piece of shit managed to hurt your family even with you involved... she's dangerous. More dangerous than a normal Second-Grade."
Zoey didn't argue. Elizabeth was right.
"Just promise me something," Elizabeth continued.
"What?"
"When you kill her, and you will kill her, make it hurt." Elizabeth's green eyes glittered with cold fury. "Make her regret ever being born. For Mother-in-law. For Everett. For the baby she'll never get a chance to threaten." Her hand pressed more firmly against her stomach. "Make. Her. Suffer."
Zoey looked at this girl, this teenage girl who was pregnant with her brother's child, who had burst into an underground clinic ready to burn the world down for the people she loved, who was already planning vengeance for a crime against her future family.
"I will," Zoey promised. "I'll make her wish she'd never crawled out of whatever hole she came from."
Elizabeth nodded once, satisfied, then turned back to Everett. "Come on. Let's go see your mom."
"Lizzy, she's in a coma. She won't know we're there."
"I don't care. She's going to be my mother-in-law, and she's going to be a grandmother, and she's going to wake up eventually because I fucking refuse to accept any other outcome." Elizabeth grabbed Everett's hand and pulled him toward the recovery room. "Besides, I need to gossip with her. Let her know how healthy her grandson is or granddaughter. She'll probably be thrilled and wake right up."
Everett let himself be dragged along, shooting Zoey a look that was equal parts exasperated and adoring. Zoey watched them go, something warm blooming in her chest despite everything. Her family was broken. Her mother might never wake up. A daemon was out there plotting god-knows-what. But Everett was alive. He was going to be a father. And he had someone who would tear the world apart for him. That was something.
…
They moved Alicia to a private room in the clinic; Dr. Yewon had facilities for long-term patients, though he charged accordingly. Prometheus had already wired the funds, along with a message that simply read: Whatever she needs. We'll discuss next steps when you're ready.
Bruce sat beside Alicia's bed, holding her hand, talking to her in a low voice even though she couldn't hear him. Everett had fallen asleep in a chair, exhaustion finally winning out over trauma. Elizabeth sat beside him, one hand resting protectively on his arm, the other resting on her stomach. Zoey stood in the doorway, watching.
Her mother's face was peaceful in sleep, or whatever this was. The wound on her throat had been bandaged, hiding the worst of the damage. If you didn't know better, you might think she was just taking a nap. But she wasn't. And she might never wake up.
"Zoey."
She turned. Bruce had risen from his chair, approaching her with slow, careful steps. He looked older than she'd ever seen him; the events of the night had aged him years in hours.
"We need to talk," he said.
They stepped out into the hallway, away from the others. Bruce leaned against the wall, running a hand through his thinning hair.
"I know what you're thinking," he said.
"Do you?"
"You're thinking about going after her. Right now. Tonight." Bruce's eyes met hers. "You're thinking about tearing this city apart until you find that daemon and make her pay for what she did."
Zoey didn't deny it. There was no point.
"I want that too," Bruce continued. "Believe me, I want nothing more than to see that monster dead. She hurt my wife. She traumatized my son. She tried to destroy my family." His voice shook with barely contained rage. "But going after her now, angry, hurt, without a plan... that's exactly what she wants."
"I don't care what she wants."
"You should. Because if you go after her half-cocked and she kills you, what happens to the rest of us?" Bruce stepped closer, his voice dropping. "You're the strongest person I know, Zoey. But strength isn't everything. That daemon has an organization. Resources. She's been planning this for weeks, maybe months. You think she doesn't have contingencies for if you come after her?"
Zoey's jaw tightened. She knew he was right. Hated that he was right.
"So what am I supposed to do?" she asked. "Just let her go? Let her build her army, hurt more people, come back for another round when she's ready?"
"No. You do what any good fighter does." Bruce put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes. "You step back. You breathe. You assess. You make a plan." He squeezed gently. "Talk to your friends. The person who's been helping you, Prometheus? Talk to him. Find out what you're dealing with. And then, when you know what you're up against, when you have a strategy that doesn't involve charging in blind, then you go after her."
"And in the meantime? While I'm planning and strategizing, she's out there getting stronger."
"And you'll get stronger too. You always do." Bruce's expression softened. "I've watched you grow up, Zoey. Watched you go from a quiet, awkward kid to... whatever you are now. You've never backed down from a fight in your life. But the best fighters know when to be patient. When to wait for the right moment." He smiled sadly. "Your mother would tell you the same thing, if she could."
The mention of her mother broke something in Zoey. The anger that had been sustaining her cracked, and beneath it was nothing but grief and exhaustion and fear.
"I almost lost her," she whispered. "I almost lost all of you."
"But you didn't." Bruce pulled her into a hug, the first real hug they'd shared in a while. "We're still here. Battered and broken, but here. And we're going to get through this. Together."
Zoey buried her face in her stepfather's shoulder and cried. She cried for her mother, lying unconscious in a hospital bed. She cried for her brother, who would never look at the magji world the same way again. She cried for herself, for the peaceful homecoming that had turned into a nightmare. And Bruce held her through all of it, saying nothing, just being there. When the tears finally stopped, Zoey pulled back and wiped her eyes.
"I'll call Prometheus," she said. "We'll make a plan."
"Good." Bruce nodded approvingly. "And Zoey?"
"Yeah?"
"When the time comes, when you finally face that daemon again, I want you to make her suffer." His voice was quiet, but there was something cold and hard in it that Zoey had never heard before. "For your mother. For Everett. For all of us."
Zoey met her stepfather's eyes and saw the same rage that burned in her own heart reflected back at her.
"I will," she promised. "I'll make her regret ever touching our family."
Bruce nodded once, then turned and walked back to his wife's bedside. Zoey stood alone in the hallway for a long moment, letting the tears dry on her cheeks. Then she pulled out her phone. She had a call to make.