But he wouldn’t see a tear.
Dylan forced hatred into his eyes instead. Let it keep them apart. Let it keep himaway. He had spent his whole life determined to never see history repeat itself.Don’t get too close, don’t let them see who you are.
And the most important rule, the one he didn’t think about too closely.
But Callum was smart enough to figure him out. To push and flirtuntil he got to the core of him. And Dylan couldn’t allow that.
Yet, there it was again: a look that told Dylan Callumknewwhat he was doing. The Empyreal’s smile tugged up slightly.
They’d been so vigilant about their secret, and now Callumknew.
So did the Wake.
Which meant there was no real reason to fear Callum knowing, and all the more reason to find outCallum’ssecrets. Continuing to brush off the other Empyreal was only going to be detrimental. Callum knew more than he was letting on.
So Dylan didn’t leave like he was tempted to, like he was trained to.
Instead, he forced some ease back into his limbs, dredging up and dusting off the version of himself that had once been more relaxed. Then, he headed to the crystal glass decanter on a side table, and poured himself a drink.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Bells
BELLS WATCHED THE MURDERER DRAW IN THEBLOOD OFtheir victim. The dark pool of it had spilled onto the night-slick pavement of the narrow alley. She couldn’t tell what the dying creature was from this angle, only knew they were human-looking enough to blend into the urban environment.
The killer, however, was wearing tactical gear.
She was never seen in a vision, and used to feeling like an observer after watching one vision of death and then another, her dreaming ones so much more physical and capable of pulling her into the place the kill was happening. As usual, she could do nothing but watch, standing behind them wearing her striped pink and white pyjamas, bare feet in an iridescent puddle she couldn’t feel.
This vision, though, wasweird.
It hadn’t ended after the killer had struck. Usually, after a death or during, she woke with a start, freed from the confines of the vision, as if it had merely wanted someone to see it. She could understand that.
But today, she was lingering as the killer rose and stalked down the alley, their back to her. The air seemed denseand magnetic.
Bells crept closer to the markings and tried to figure out what the supernatural had been drawing, concern and curiosity tilting her head.
There was nothing but lines.
She looked around, wondering if there was something else she was supposed to See. Other than the two walls and narrow, moonlit stretch onto an unfamiliar city street and vacant fire escape, no one else was here.
Instead, the creature before her finally stilled, and it was quiet.
Bells moved closer. ‘Safe travels,’ she said softly.
A prickling at the back of her neck had her looking up into the sliver of dark sky, and stoppered her breathing in her throat.
The darkness seemed to move.
That magnetic charge condensed as the night sky poured into the alley in an inky, sparkling mist.
Bells backed up, entranced as it pulsed in an otherworldly sprawl of navy and black and flickered with light, as if minuscule stars gleamed inside.
And then a figure steppedoutof it.
They were completely hooded in a long coat and stepped up to the body, holding their hand out over it. For a breathless moment, Bells only stared, heart racing, confusion dancing through her mind.
Then, they turned their shadowed face towards her.
