“You worry too much,” she said. “I’m fine.”
“No,” I said. “You’re not.”
I tightened my grip on her arm and started walking.
“Josh, we’re headin’ back to Cherry Smoke,” I said. “You stick close, yeah?”
“Already here,” he said. He moved ahead, checking corners, eyes sharp in a way that had nothing to do with his age.
The walk back felt longer than it should have. The Quarter was in full swing now. Masks, blood makeup, real knives tucked under fake costumes. Demons loved nights like this because no one knew what was real until it was too late.
Grace walked half a step behind me, humming under her breath. The tune didn’t match the music on the street. It was that same song she’d hummed in the shower, and it clung to my spine.
We reached Cherry Smoke and pushed through the door. Inside, the party had grown. More leather, more glitter, and more noise. Ajax moved behind the bar with his usual controlled chaos. Hoax and Bullet were at a high-top table, arguing over something stupid, beers in hand.
Scorn stood near the edge of the crowd watching the door. His gaze found us the second we crossed the threshold.
He saw the smear of blood on the bat and saw the wild edge around Grace’s smile. He also saw my grip on Grace’s arm and the tension in my shoulders.
He moved fast, on instinct, meeting us halfway.
“What happened?” he asked, voice low, cutting straight through the music.
“Grace decided to introduce a Scorpion’s skull to her bat,” I said. “We almost had a brawl at the Venom’s Lounge.”
“How the fuck did you end up there?”
“Seems, Harley here, has a secret vendetta against Scorpions.”
Scorn’s eyes narrowed.
“Is he dead?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “But he’ll remember her. And Croak’s gonna hear all about it.”
“Good,” Grace said, smiling. “Maybe he’ll come find me. I’ve got more where that came from.”
“Okay,” I retorted, pulling towards a bar chair.
Scorn leaned in to talk in my ear. “Jameson is not gonna like this.”
“Then you can tell the Prez that this is what happens when you decide to babysit a Desdemone.”
Scorn sighed. “You got this?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I got this. I don’t think it’s gonna get worse than it already has, yeah.”
Seraphine hunched down closer, so close she and Grace were almost touching, and studied her face. Her nostrils flared, like she was scenting something in the air.
“Grace,” she said quietly. “How do you feel?”
“Great,” Grace said. “Better than great. I feel alive.”
She lifted her arm and felt her pulse where I still held her arm. Seraphine’s jaw tightened and she looked up at me.
“Her heart’s beating too fast.”
“You sense it,” I leaned in toward her.
