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"I'll sleep when I stop breathing," Sarah shot back, testing her balance again.

"No," Abraxos rebuked, sliding an arm around her waist before she tipped sideways. "You'll sleep before you make Jace heal you a second time."

Sarah frowned at him, more annoyed that he'd been right than anything else. "You're becoming incredibly inconvenient."

"I'm trying to keep you alive," Abraxos returned in a maddeningly calm tone.

"I was doing a fine job of that before you grabbed me," she countered.

Abraxos glanced meaningfully toward the spot where she'd nearly kissed the floor. "From where I'm standing, the evidence suggests otherwise."

Sarah sighed dramatically and leaned into him enough to enjoy his proximity. "Fine," she muttered. "You can walk me downstairs."

"I was going to, whether you agreed or not," Abraxos informed her as he guided her toward the bedroom door.

Sarah snorted and tightened her grip on his forearm while they stepped into the hallway. "Good thing I like bossy men."

"You'd like me regardless," Abraxos replied, his smile finally breaking free.

"You're awfully sure of yourself," Sarah teased as they started down the staircase. Every step sent another complaint through her battered body. Having him beside her made it easier to pretend she wasn't hurting nearly as much as she was.

They reached the first floor at a pace Sarah would normally have mocked. Abraxos never rushed her. He never commented on how much weight she was putting on him. He somehow managed to make the silence feel comfortable instead of embarrassing. By the time they reached the library doors, she had gone all mushy thinking about him.

The library filled an entire wing of the house. The familiar scent of old paper, leather, and polished oak met Sarah the instant she crossed the threshold. She let herself breathe it in, grateful for something familiar. On another day, she would have wandered the shelves for hours. Today, every step carried her straight to the center table.

Elsie, the Vampire Queen, sat cross-legged atop the polished wood as though the table had been built for her alone. Ancient books surrounded her in untidy stacks, while Amelia occupied the chair beside her with another tome open across her lap. Loose notes littered every spare inch between them. Neither woman looked as though sleep had been part of the last twenty-four hours.

"There she is," Elsie said in greeting. She lifted her eyes from the page without bothering to stand. Her gaze swept over Sarah. "You impressed and scared my daughter half to death. That isn't easy to earn either."

Sarah eased into the nearest chair with a wince she couldn't quite hide. Abraxos sat next to her before she settled and began rubbing a hand up and down her back. She ignored the warmth spreading through her body and looked back at Elsie.

"You're where Izzy gets the attitude," Sarah observed with a tired smile. "Why have you guys spent the night reading my family's journals?"

"Because Amelia called before dawn and mentioned the First Scribe. It’s so cool that she’s your cousin, by the way." Elsie closed the book in front of her and grabbed another. "I've dreamed about them for years without understanding why. It has never been anything really detailed. I have never even seen any faces. It was a mouth opening in the ground somewhere in this district, and something climbing out of it. Then Amelia told me your bloodline built the prison beneath this city, and suddenly those dreams stopped looking like madness."

"Which is how Micah ended up on Lafayette when it split instead of strolling past it," Amelia added. "I've spent two days putting pieces together and looking for clues in your grandmother's books. I keep hitting the parts only you can read. It was a long shot that they wouldn’t be bound against anyone else."

“I’ll give it a shot. I’ve never been able to read some before.” Sarah pulled one of Nana's books toward her. The page turned itself as soon as she touched the cover. The words came in a way they never had before the sigil burned into her palm.

"This is a maintenance manual. Whoever wrote it knew these things would get out and made a plan," she reported.

"Planned for it how?" Elsie leaned in.

"'When one is driven down before its due’,” Sarah read aloud, “’it does not sleep. It feeds. It draws the deep back into itself until it is full, and only then may it rise.'"

She looked up at Amelia. "You caught magic on the ley line the night this started. Can you tell what's down there now? Is it asleep, or feeding?"

Amelia made a humming noise. "It’s feeding now. There's a pulse where the old river used to run. It's deeper today than it was yesterday. That's not something just waking up. It's getting ready to eat again."

"How long before it escapes again?" Elsie asked. The mother in her reared its head.

"I wish I could give you a definitive answer," Sarah admitted. "These seals were built to last centuries. Long enough that no Guardian ever saw two wakings in one life."

"And now?" Amelia pressed.

"Now it refills in days." Sarah let out the breath she’d been holding. "And it comes up faster every time. It’ll learn a better way out. That's why the tremors stopped scattering. It's not testing for possible weaknesses that’ll lead to exits. It's focusing on one."

"It also met you." Abraxos's hand tightened at her nape. "When it comes back up⁠—"