Masuk“Why is it unguarded?” Kael asked.He was dressed again in record time: jeans, black sweater, boots. He hadn’t bothered with his hair. Nyra tried very hard not to look at it.“The night watch on sub-level nine changes at three-fifteen,” Silas said, leading them down a service corridor that smelled of bleach and old stone. “Tonight, by an unfortunate clerical error, the relief was scheduled for four-fifteen.”“Unfortunate,” Nyra said.“Deeply.”“Who made the error?”Silas glanced back. In the dim light, his ancient face looked almost young. “A clerk with a great deal of faith, Highness.”“You.”He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.They took a freight elevator that rattled like it was held together with prayer. Lucien was waiting at the bottom, leaning against the wall in a long gray coat, a ring of iron keys looped around one finger.His gaze moved over Nyra. Over the oversized shirt she’d thrown under her jacket. Over the missing button.Then over Kael’s messy hair.One eyebrow rose a
“There’s no music,” Nyra said.“There’s plenty.” Kael tipped his head toward the window. Far below, a horn blared. A siren rose and fell. Somewhere, a subway train groaned under the streets. “It’s just ugly.”“You want to slow dance to Manhattan traffic.”“I want to slow dance with you. Manhattan can keep up or get out of the way.”She took his hand.He pulled her in, and she went the way the tide goes. All at once and all the way.He wasn’t a good dancer. He just held her. One big hand spread across the bare skin of her back, the other wrapped around her fingers against his chest, and he swayed.Slowly. Like nobody downstairs had tried to drug her an hour ago.“You let him put his hand here,” he said quietly. His thumb moved along her spine. Just once. “Right here.”“It was customary.”“I hated it.”“The whole room noticed.”“Good.” His mouth brushed her temple. “Let them notice.”Her breath caught.She could feel his heartbeat under her palm. It was fast. Faster than his face let on
“Turn around,” Jade demanded. “Slowly. Like a rotisserie chicken.”Nyra held the phone at arm’s length and turned in front of the suite’s mirror. The dress the Court had sent up was midnight blue silk, backless, slit to the thigh, and almost certainly worth more than the Saint Veil ambulance.On the screen, Jade’s face went through several stages of grief.“Okay. I hate it. I hate that you look like that and I’m stuck here wiping down the Lantern Tap with a rag that smells like regret.”“You told me to blend in.”“I told you to blend in, not to become the main character of a perfume commercial.” Jade squinted. “Is that the vampire’s dress or the wolf’s dress?”“It’s the Court’s dress.”“So the vampire’s dress.”“It’s not anybody’s dress, Jade.”“Babe. Somebody picked a backless dress for the girl with a mysterious mark on her shoulder blade. That’s not a dress. That’s a message.” Jade leaned closer to her camera. “Where’s your giant?”“Showering.”“Mm-hm. And you’re just standing out
“Absolutely not,” Kael said.“It says alone.”“It says a lot of things. Paper lies.”“Paper’s not the one with fangs.”He planted himself in front of the door like a wall with a heartbeat. “You walk into that hall by yourself, and you don’t walk out.”“If I don’t walk in, your pack is at war with the Court before breakfast.” Nyra pulled on the black jacket Jade had packed for her, the one with the high collar. “You know that. I know that. The man with the raven seal definitely knows that.”Kael’s jaw flexed. “Then I walk you to the door.”“Fine.”“And I stand outside it.”“Fine.”“And if I hear you scream—”“You’ll tear the tower down. I know.” She stepped close and straightened his collar, mostly so her hands would stop shaking. “Try not to do it before I actually scream. It’s embarrassing for both of us.”His hand caught hers. Warm. Calloused.“Nyra.”“I’ll be fine.”“You’re a terrible liar.”“I’m a great liar. You’re just annoyingly good at noticing.”* * *The elevator went down f
Liora.The name sat in Nyra’s chest like a lit match.She waited for it to go out. It didn’t.“Say it again,” she whispered.Lucien Draven didn’t. He had stepped through the gallery’s glass door onto the open observation deck, and she had followed. Now he stood at the rail with his hands folded behind his back, eighty-eight floors above Lower Manhattan, and looked at the city as if it had personally disappointed him.“Once was dangerous enough.”“You don’t get to drop my mother’s name like a napkin and walk away.”“I haven’t walked anywhere.” His dark eyes slid to her. “Yet.”Below them, the city glittered. Cabs crawled like sparks along the avenues. A siren wailed somewhere near the Brooklyn Bridge, and Nyra’s EMT brain automatically guessed at the call. Cardiac. Maybe an overdose.Her own heart was doing something nobody would want to chart.“Where did you find it?”“In a place my father believes no one but him can enter.”“That’s not an answer.”“It’s the only one these walls will
She meant to hide the note.She got as far as folding it in half.“Vampire,” Kael said from the window, without turning around. “Expensive cologne. Sealing wax. And something that smells like an old library.” He finally looked at her. “Let me guess. Midnight. Come alone.”Nyra sighed. “Do you ever get tired of being right?”“Not yet.”She held the note out. He crossed the room and read it, and she watched the muscle in his jaw jump at the last line.“Don’t bring the wolf,” he read aloud. “Cute.”“I’m going.”“I know.”“You’re not going to fight me on it?”“I fought you over toast this morning. I’m pacing myself.”He handed the note back. Then he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and tipped her face up, gentle and deliberate.“Eighty-eight is twenty-two floors up,” he said. “I’ll be at the stairwell door on eighty-seven. If your heart rate jumps, I’ll hear it. If he so much as looks at you wrong, I’ll come through the wall.”“You can’t hear my heart rate from a floor awa







