You came here of your own free will, Claire. I won’t be denied. You’re mine now, and I intend to keep you.

I grouped my fellow employees into three categories: the plebes, the damned, and the demons.

The blue of winter, the brown of spring, the red of summer, and the fall of green. I seek the place of treasures past. I seek the truth of sand and glass. I call to the wind of seasons past. I bring with me the best of summer. I am the one with whom you bask. Deliver me and complete your task.

I must complete my quest or I will die.

I headed for my office, but stopped when I saw my laptop on the couch. Sorrel had obviously borrowed it—again—without permission. I grabbed it, wondering what questionable site he’d left on the screen this time and making a mental note to run the anti-virus software. After taking a shower, putting on my pajamas, and fixing an ice cream sundae for dinner—yes, it was one of those days—I sat down at my desk and pulled up the web browser.

I couldn’t just start killing people. That wasn’t really my thing.

Don’t worry,” I said. “We won’t be having slumber parties and spa days any time soon.” “I quite like spa days.

Is that true?” The Boss asked Mace. Without even batting an eye, Mace said, “Yes.”“And you agreed?” The Boss questioned. “Of course. Anything for my queen,” he said, holding his glass up to me in a mock toast.

I thought of the three men in the meadow. None were what they seemed and I was in the arms of my worst enemy, taking comfort from him. Would my life ever be normal? “Normal is boring,” Mace said.