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The lamps in the alley flicker wildly, then go out entirely, leaving only a narrow band of light running between the Wraith and Étienne.

The creature blinks, tilting its head at the disruption. Then it bares its fangs at Étienne and lets out a high-pitched scream.

The Wraith launches itself at him. At the last second, Étienne darts to one side, then brings his hands up. A cylindrical cage shoots up from the pavement, as if made out of stone, and encases the creature inside.

The Wraith shakes its head and whirls around in a circle, hissing at the illusion. I waste no time—I dart forward, reaching for one of its spindly arms.

It snarls at me and jerks its arm away from my touch before I can close my hand around its wrist. Then it hurls itself at the cage—and breaks right through it, as if it were air. Even Étienne’s illusion can’t seem to contain it well.

It lunges at me, teeth bared.

I have no time to jump out of the way—but before it can reach me, Étienne is here, shielding me with his own body. He faces the Wraith with a wicked grin as it snaps its jaw at him, then slams into the creature, knocking them both to the ground.

The creature hisses and tries to bite him—but he darts to one side, grasping its wrist and pinning it to the ground. A chain ties it down.

The creature yanks a few times, snarling as the illusion holds for a second.

Now’s my chance. I lunge forward and manage to close my hand on its wrist at last.

Instantly, I feel the fragment of its soul flowing out of its body and through me, broken and tainted, reeking of disloyalty. The Wraith lets out a gasp, its face shifting from an expression of rage to one of exhaustion and confusion. It drops to one knee and shakes its head, then tilts its sightless eyes to meet mine.

And as it does, it disintegrates.

Only Étienne and I are left in the alley, panting, our gazes on the body of Soren lying nearby.

Gripping his forearm, Étienne rises to his feet and walks over, stopping at the edge of the scene. I approach, too. Now I can see the deep, frightening slashes across the former Regent’s chest, wounds that cut through flesh and bone alike. Unlike normal wounds, though, they look like they are stained black, as if burned.

“Poison,” I murmur, and beside me, Étienne nods. The Wraith’s touch must be tainted with something immortal, the way it affected mortal flesh.

Beside me, Étienne lets go of his arm. My eyes widen at the sight of a black cut along his forearm, right above his silk bracelet. It had gotten him, too. But at my expression, he just gives me a terse shake of his head. We stare quietly at each other.

Raven had told me that Terran’s soul had been claimed before he even arrived. And although I didn’t witness Terran’s death, I wonder if it might have been like this, if my Regent’s soul had been ripped out by a Wraith.

If this is only the beginning of something worse.

14

It is always strange to me, seeing the arrival of medics and ambulances at the scene of something unnatural.

To them, it is someone who must have died from a drug overdose or alcohol poisoning in a back alley, a collapse of blood vessels, a restriction of oxygen to the brain, a pulmonary edema, fluid leaking into the lungs. But they cannot see a body stripped of its soul, nor attacked by a Wraith. The paramedics can’t even see the wound that I can. As far as they’re concerned, there is no mark on the body at all.

I stand alongside Raven under an awning near the front entrance, our bodies facing out toward the rain-washed streets, looking on at the flashing lights of the emergency brigade parked alongside the building.

At the other end of the street, I can see a cluster of the other Harbingers starting to head home. Katie has her coat draped around Charlotte’s shoulders, and Charlotte, who had been so animated and joyous hours earlier, now looks somber and quiet.

For a moment, Katie looks away from Charlotte and glances in my direction, to where I’m standing with Raven. We hold each other’s gaze, before she looks away and turns her attention back to getting Charlotte safely to Willow’s estate.

Even though tonight isn’t my fault, I still feel sorry for Charlotte. All she wanted was a night for herself, something to distract her from her own birthday.

Now the only thing we’ll be able to talk about is Soren’s death.

My ring has lost the painful tingling of immediate danger, but the metal still pulses with unease against my finger, the eye closed as if in troubled thought.

“A single Regent’s death is one matter,” Raven says to me now. “Two within a week is another.”

I tighten my jaw and look back out at the rain-washed road. Étienne isn’t with the others. He had left without saying goodbye to any of them, and his absence leaves me feeling cold. “Is that how Terran died?” I ask quietly.

My patron god doesn’t answer immediately. His gray eyes are focused on the rooftops in the distance, and when I look with him, I notice another Wraith perched there, taking the form of an owl. I’m reminded of the misshapen crow I’d seen during my failed test. Even now, I can hear the bird’s discordant call.