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The familiar rush that always takes hold of me when I”m close to old objects settles in between my fingers. I flex them, brushing the cool metal. “I need to get this back to the archive.” I stride toward the door. Kim is still looking at the stain on the floor.

“What is it, demon hunter?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Solaris aren’t that bright.” Kim is scratching his chin. “It surprises me that it put this plan together itself. They really don’t usually think too much. They absorb their hosts for survival, not for⁠—”

“What has this got to do with the whereabouts of the scepter?” I snap, annoyed by his suddenly all-knowing tone.

“Nothing,” Kim scrapes his foot on the floorboards. “Nothing,” he repeats. “It’s just…” He meets my eyes. “Aren’t you worried this is part of something bigger?”

23

KOLE

Rightly or wrongly, for the first time since our blood bond began, I couldn’t answer Nova when she reached out to me. And I feel like a piece of shit.

Watching her and Mack head up to the rooftop with Snow, I felt like an even bigger piece of shit. Because I resented her for it.

I love her more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life, but dark, twisted resentment is forming an iron vice around my insides. Because there isn’t enough time for him to have one last night with all of us.

And I haven’t had enough. I haven’t said enough.

Nova will make it count. She’ll say all the things she needs to say to him. She’ll comfort him, and they’ll hold each other, and she’ll have a memory to carry with her. But my memory will be of my own cowardice. My complete inability to tell him what he means to me. That he’s more than a brother. More than a friend. More than family.

He’s part of me. Part of us.

I look over at Tanner and Sam. Tanner is clutching his phone, waiting for news from Luther. Perhaps if Luther were here, things would feel different. But it all feels wrong. Too soon. Too disjointed. If we’re losing him, it shouldn’t be like this. We should all have the chance to say goodbye. We should get one last night together. All of us. Talking, and drinking, and laughing.

This shouldn’t be the end of it all. Maybe it’s not; maybe Mack will stay with us long enough for a proper goodbye.

I reach for the whiskey, then stop myself. Thornfield’s office is down the hall. He has a decanter of blood, right there, on the sideboard. It’s not hidden or locked away. It’s just right there in the open.

I rise slowly from the chair and hold the door so it closes quietly behind me. There’s no light in Thornfield’s office. Sometimes, he stays here all night, but tonight maybe he’s walking the halls of the museum.

Mack’s death means nothing to Thornfield.

We mean nothing to him.

We’re a curiosity. A blip on his timeline. He helped us when it benefited him to do so, and now he’s done. The mystery has been solved, and he has his precious scepter back in his possession.

And all of his noise about wanting to destroy it seems to have completely quieted. Turns out, he only wanted to destroy it when there was a chance it would destroy him. Now, he’s keeping it under lock and key, he’s happy to see it survive.

I push the door open and head straight for the sideboard. I don’t even hesitate, just pour the blood into a glass and inhale slowly. It’s not fermented. Not FHB. But it is human, and I feel the veins at the sides of my eyes start to twitch.

Since we met, Nova is the only human I’ve tasted. Before her, I was clean for two years. If I drink, I have no idea what it means. All I know is that I have to. I need to. I need something to make the pain stop.

I am raising the glass to my lips, gums itching with the anticipation of feeling it coat my tongue, when a change in the vibration of the room makes me stop.

The ground beneath my feet trembles – imperceptible to anyone who isn’t an earth mage. Footsteps. Not human.

Snow.

I put the glass down, hard, aware that droplets of blood slosh out onto the sideboard, and exit back into the hallway.

Ahead, Snow’s huge, bulky figure moves slowly past the room where Tanner and Sam are sleeping. Toward… what?

Keeping a distance, I follow him. He doesn’t look back, and if he knows I’m here shows no sign of it. When he reaches the door that leads down to Lucien’s archive, he stops. Now, he does look at me.

He meets my eyes, and breathes out heavily through his nose. He blinks slowly.