"She's a liability," Rhett said flatly.
"She's an asset," Lucien corrected, his eyes narrowing. "If she’s truly broken with her family. A Vance on the inside? That’s valuable."
"We watch her," I decided. "We let Arthur work his magic—hishumanmagic—and we wait. If she turns, we bring her in."
"And if she doesn't?" Rhett asked.
"Then Kai gets his ficus," I said.
A heavy silence settled over the room. The playful energy of the morning was gone, replaced by the weight of the coming storm.
"Uh, guys?" Kai stood up, moving to the window beside Lucien. "Is it supposed to snow today?"
"It's September," Rhett said.
"Tell that to the sky."
I walked over to join them. Outside, the first flakes of snow began to fall. But they weren't white. They were gray, heavy, and they didn't melt when they hit the glass. They hissed.
"Marrow," I whispered, pressing my hand to the cold pane.
The cozy war was heating up. Or rather... freezing over.
12
Iwas dreaming.
At least, I thought I was.
But the thoughts in my head didn’t feel like mine. The images moved around me like memories I’d never lived—voices echoing in the distance, emotions that pressed against my chest like they belonged to someone else.
I was inside the dream… but it wasn’t my mind that had created it. It was memories….
The precinct was quiet—tooquiet.
Stone sat at his desk, staring at the stack of paperwork he was supposed to be filing. Curfew violations. Unauthorized spellcasting. Public disturbance.
Usually, the order of it soothed him. The rules were clear. The lines were drawn.
But lately, the lines were blurring.
His comms buzzed. "Officer Stone. Report to the Dean's Holding Cells. Priority One."
Stone frowned. The Holding Cells were for serious offenders. Violent criminals. Rogue demons. Why was Marrow calling him down there?
He stood up, adjusting his belt. "On my way."
The elevator ride down to the sublevels was long and silent. When the doors opened, the air was cold enough to see his breath. The hallway smelled of antiseptic and ozone—the smell of strong magic being contained.
"Ah, Officer Stone." Dean Marrow was standing outside Cell 4, checking his watch. "Prompt as always. Good."
"Sir," Stone nodded stiffly. "You requested assistance?"
"Witness," Marrow corrected. "I require a witness for an... administrative correction."
He swiped his keycard, and the heavy steel door hissed open.
Inside, a student was huddled in the corner. Not a criminal. Not a demon.
