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I’ve never encountered anything this potent.

I start to cough, choking on the acrid taste of it.

Whatever this is, it’s ancient... and hungry.

It presses down on me, announcing its presence. Imprinting itself on my skin.

I close my eyes and the mop clatters from my hand. Pain throbs in my temples.

And then it is gone.

Just like that.

I open my eyes again, panting, struggling for breath.

Unnerved, I continue cleaning with renewed urgency.

I need to get the fuck out of here.

Every creak and groan of the old building sets my nerves on edge, and I can’t shake the sensation of being watched, stalked by an unseen predator. But not via the security cameras.

I feel as though something is here.

As I tie off another trash bag bulging with putrid remains, a floorboard behind me creaks. I spin around, blade drawn, only to find myself face to face with my own reflection in an antique mirror. Jesus. Get it together, Kim.

But then, in the mirror’s tarnished surface, I glimpse a flicker of movement. A shadow where there shouldn’t be one.

Ice floods my veins as I stare into the glass. But the harder I focus, the more distorted my reflection becomes, warping into a nightmarish caricature with hollow, bottomless eyes and a leering gash of a mouth.

Fuck this.

I lunge for the mirror, intent on smashing it to pieces. But before my hand makes contact, an invisible force slams into my chest, hurling me backwards. I hit the floor hard, breath knocked from my lungs. The demonic aura intensifies, pressing down on me like a physical weight, drowning me in darkness.

Gasping, I claw my way upright, gripping my blade in sweat-slick hands. But the oppressive energy dissipates as quickly as it appeared, leaving me alone and shaking amid the gore-streaked shelves.

What the actual fuck just happened?

I look back in the direction of the hidden camera, praying Thornfield hasn’t been watching. Because whatever just happened, I need to figure out whether he can be trusted with it before I tell him.

I need to know what he’ll do to the girl. What she means to him.

I need to know if Luna is safe with Lucien Thornfield.

Chapter 9

Luna

Ipress my palms to the window and stare out at the brightening sky.

How is it sunrise already? Were we talking for that long?

The glass is cool against my slightly clammy palms, and the sensation calms me a little. Until I look down.

The room he’s keeping me in is, of course, on the top floor.

Outside, there is a huge expanse of lawn and a long, sprawling driveway. At the end of it, tall black wrought-iron gates.

Even if I, somehow, made it down the outside of the building, how would I actually get out of the grounds? Surely, a guy like Thornfield will have dogs, or bodyguards or – hell – werewolves waiting to grab me and drag me back inside.