Blake P.O.V.The roof’s a bad joke; waist-high parapet that’d make a safety inspector faint, a chimney that leans like it’s thinking of retirement, and a view too pretty for what’s been happening underneath it.Bane comes for me because of course he does. He always picks the wrong fight.He’s bleeding from the wrist, and I see a bite mark rimmed in silver like honesty. His eyes are red-rimmed and mean. He feints high, dives low, tries to take my knees. I leave one foot where it is, lift the other, and make a small correction to his face with the bottom of my boot. The sound he makes is universal.Crean stands by the roof access like a museum guard who’s bored of his job and thinking of lunch. Rope twirls easily in his hand; shadow and poisoned teeth and practice. He’s watching angles, not egos. That’s the dangerous part.“Allison,” he says pleasantly, as if we’re at a garden party. “You’re very tiresome.”“She’s alive,” I tell him, putting myself between them, “which is what keeps end
Blake P.O.V.The flare I’ve been waiting for hits like a fist under my sternum; silver, hot, unmistakable. Not a sound but it rings anyway through my mind. No, through the matebond and the mindlink.Allie.Tara’s voice braids into it a heartbeat later, bright and sure in my head. ‘East tower, service stair, two up, purple curtains. The glass has a crescent-crack.’“Move,” I tell my people, and the pack flows.We ghost the tree line, cross the scrub, and press to the shadow of the bluff. Gullspire’s two towers sulk against the sky like bad decisions. No engines, no sirens, just breath and boot leather and the quiet clatter of steel that means we mean it.Elliott and Oloron take the point. Neptune peels a four-man perimeter off into the brush, no heroics on the exits. Damien slides in behind me, jaw tight, Midnight burning under his skin so hot he aura is visible in the silent air. One of the witches is at my shoulder with a canvas satchel and those new crystals Oloron carved; they kno
Allison P.O.V.Stairs are the great equalizer to men who cheat in rooms with rugs and who forgets what happens when the walls are narrow when the only way is up.Crean knows. He’s already moving for the door when I bolt, but misses me by a hair. Curses that would impress me in a less tense situation swells over his lips. I just save the best ones for later, because if I learned anything it’s that later will come if I don’t want it to. Bane tries to shoulder-check me into the wall; I duck, and he kisses plaster. It’s not enough to dent his stupidity, but it dents the plaster enough to slow him down. I take the doorway anyway, cuffed hands close to my belly, and take the first turn of the stairs two steps at a time.It’s a service stair, stone spine, too tight for swagger. The air tastes like dust and old soap. The wards skitter over my skin like cobwebs, trying, looking for cracks to creep under to destroy me. I hold them off, grit my teeth and ground myself. Not today. Not ever.
Allison P.O.V.Dark first. Then the world sluices back in,; a throb in my cheek, rope-bite phantoming my wrists. Dawn slides out of the driver’s seat like a cat dropping off a windowsill.‘Beacon’s set. Window’s cracked. East. Two up. They felt us,’ she murmurs in our shared marrow. I still feel a little grumpy about her just taking over like this, but I guess it’s a good thing she did, or I don’t even know what Bane and Crean would have done to us. ‘You could have led with hello,’ I grumble back, and hiss when my ribs remind me Crean’s little whip had teeth. ‘And the… Other things?’A warm, steady tap under my heart answers. My breath stutters. Not now. Survive now. Feel later. I wonder what Blake is going to say. We already have Athena, and this. No! No thinking. I’ll think when it’s safe and quiet and warm. Dammit. I open my eyes.The purple curtains still look like bruises. I had hoped I dreamed those. The bedframe’s too ornate; it doesn’t match the holes in the rug or the gri
Talia P.O.V.The door opens on two red-eyed men and a woman with a tray. We’re on our feet, all three of us as they come in. They smell like stale magic and cheap soap. It settles on my nose like a vice and I have to hold my breath for a second to keep myself from sneezing.The woman’s eyes are still human; brown, resentful, scared, so I keep my curse off her and aim for the men.Ethan coughs blood. Literally. He bites his tongue for it and sprays a pink mist that dots the hall. The guard nearest him swears and kicks the bars.“Shut it.” He roars without mercy, his aura of unpleasantness bulking around him. Ethan coughs harder, and then he jerks, the ugly kind, like a seizure got him. The woman stumbles, slop of water arcing. The red-eyes both lean toward Ethan’s cell, and for three heartbeats the cameras are full of their backs.I slip.A look, a thought, a signature displaced. I lift an image of our cages from ten minutes ago, girls seated, quiet, Ruby curled on her side, and paste
Talia P.O.V.Allie blinks out of existence like someone yanked a tablecloth and left the plates spinning. I share a look with Tabs before Ruby’s voice mixes with ours in our scream for our friend to come back. She is frantic, tapping the cell where Allie just sat, breathing coming heavy. “ALLIE!” Ruby’s voice knifes through the room, raw and open. I grab the bars to keep from tearing the door off its hinges and giving Caitlyn the show she wants. I’m not even sure if this is her trick. We all know Bane is the son of a bitch who wants Allie to himself. But we don’t want attention nonetheless, so I try to keep myself in check, but looking at my sister and the frantic Luna-wolf opposite me, I see the same desperation itched into my own soul. “Breathe,” I tell Ruby, because if I don’t give her something simple, she’ll give away every card we have. “In. Out. Now eyes on me.” Her gaze snaps to mine. Brave girl. She is shaking all over, but she does it. In, counting to four, out, counting