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“Who the fuck is Brad Pitt? Why is he out to get me?”

Job held up his palms to Kahn. “Let’s stop and think, before we rush into this. We don’t know exactly what powers Yuan can employ. We need a plan.”

A volcanic calm had engulfed Kahn. Red-hot fury solidified to cold stone. Nothing could penetrate his resolve. “My plan is to have Randa back in my arms within ten minutes.” He said simply. “My plan is for Yuan to die in nine.”

“See? He’s learning to be a Fire Phase already.” Pele said to Djinn.

He nodded proudly.

“Kahn, take a moment to think.” Job implored. “If the Fire House agrees with your plan, it’s a sure sign that you should reconsider. Yuan could have taken her anywhere. Don’t go without…” Job broke off with a resigned sigh, as Kahn jumped away to the Elemental realm.

Kahn had tracking skills. He had technology. He had a plan.

He was hunting his Match.

Right now.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I shall witness all the variety of appearance that the elements can assume.

Mary Shelley

Randa opened her eyes and saw Ben Foster’s body.

She let out a cry of panic. Jolting into a sitting position, she scrambled away from the dead human.

Someone had ripped a hole in his torso where his lungs used to be. Ben lay on his back, his skin a mottled gray and his eyes like congealed egg whites. He’d clearly been gone for a very long time. Much longer than his death at Kahn’s hands. Much longer than even the singles mixer at the Wastin’ Away Bar and Grille.

Randa’s first instinct was to jump away from the corpse. To find Kahn.

But there was a plastic manacle on her ankle, preventing her from using her powers. Trapping her. For a terrible second, she flashed back to Parald.

No. Parald was dead.

This wasn’t the Air House dungeon. She couldn’t give in to panic. She had to focus.

Her eyes frantically looked around, trying to figure out where she was. Butterflies fluttered on colorful blossoms and the walls were made of frosted glass. A greenhouse?

What in the hell?

“Ah, good you’re awake.” A voice said from behind her. “I apologize for knocking you out, but it was only for a moment. Working with flowers provides a variety of sedatives. Using them made it far easier to get that manacle on you. I’m not about to let you freeze me again.”

Randa’s head whirled around and she scrambled to her feet.

Yuan.

Or at least the way he’d looked when he’d courted her, back when she was ninety-three and he wanted to seem harmless. He wore a smarmy smile and a human-style tuxedo, like this was some big, romantic surprise.

“My flower.” He crooned. “We’re finally together.”

Her lips parted in horror, pieces coming together. “Ben” hadn’t been working with Vandal. Yuan had stolen his identity, spying on the Water House and getting close to Randa at the bar. Yuan was who she’d heard on the phone, during the memory sharing, talking about the Dark King. Yuan had been the one sending her bouquets. Yuan was her stalker.

And now he’d kidnapped her.

She swallowed hard, trying to think through her panic. She could do this. Kahn would come for her very soon. She believed that. She’d never allowed herself to need anyone before, but she could need Kahn. He wouldn’t let her down.

In the meantime, she just had to stay alive.