Oh, hell no.
“Are you kidding?” I jam my body through the narrowing gap before he can shut me out completely. The door’s edge catches my shoulder, but I don’t care. “He just saidend of the world! I’m not just staying huddled in a dark room like some damsel waiting to die!”
My voice comes out sharper than I intend, but honestly? After everything—afterfinallygetting Remus to open up, after pouring my heart out—now he wants to lock me away while the world ends?
Not happening.
Movement catches my eye down the hallway. The other women are pushing out of their doors too, babies swaddled against their chests in makeshift cloth carriers that look like they were fashioned from bedsheets and sheer determination. These women aren’t going to sit around waiting either.
“Where you go, we go.” Ksenia’s voice is iron wrapped in silk, and it’s the kind of tone that says she’s had this argument before and won.
“We don’t have time.” Abaddon’s curtness would be intimidating if his eyes weren’t already tracking to Hannah, the woman beside Ksenia. His whole body angles toward her like a shield, protective and desperate all at once. “And I need to know you’re safe.”
“Are any of us safe?” Hannah grasps his massive forearm, her fingers barely wrapping halfway around. The gesture is tender despite the urgency crackling through the air. “Better not to be separated.”
Abaddon looks like he wants to argue—his jaw works, his nostrils flare—but something in Hannah’s expression makes him relent. “Follow me.” The words come out like gravel. “And stay close.”
We do. Our group becomes a tangle of monsters and mortals, hurrying down the hallway in a chaotic rush that feels bothpurposeful and panicked. The women clutch their babies. The brothers move with predatory grace even in their urgency. And me? I’m half-jogging to keep up with Remus’s long strides, my mind still spinning.
End of the world. They said end of the world.
We’re heading back toward the large central courtyard where we first entered—where the helicopter landed what feels like days ago but was probably only hours. My sense of time is completely shot. Are they planning to evacuate again? Load us all up and fly somewhere else? Is there anywhere safe left to run?
“Do you know what’s going on?” I ask Hannah as we rush forward, trying to keep my voice low enough not to sound completely terrified.
She clutches her toddler tighter against her chest, and when she shakes her head, I see real fear in her eyes. “I overheard something about rogue spirits and a prophecy or something? I don’t know.” Her voice wavers. “I’m sorry, I don’t?—”
We spill out into the cloudy light of the courtyard, and whatever she was about to say dies on her lips.
Holy shit.
In the distance, in the very center of the massive courtyard, I see a young woman bent over with chalk in her hand. Her burnished red curls whip in a wind that doesn’t seem to be touching the rest of us yet. Next to her, another woman—this one with lighter hair—works frantically on the ground, both of them drawing symbols that make my eyes want to slide away when I try to focus on them.
“That’s Phoenix,” Hannah whispers beside me, following my gaze. “The vampire’s granddaughter.”
Right. The vampire. Vlad. I’d almost forgotten about the ancient creature who’d looked at me earlier like I was an interesting specimen. Phoenix must be... what, hundreds ofyears old herself? But she looks barely out of college, all fierce concentration and desperate energy.
Several fire pits are set up at four points, creating a giant circle around where Phoenix and the other woman work. The ground inside is covered in chalk symbols—runes, maybe? Sigils? I don’t even know what to call them. They’re intricate and purposeful, covering every inch of cobblestone in a pattern that makes my head hurt to follow.
Layden—the brother who can apparently do magic, because why not add that to today’s impossibilities—runs around the circle. I jump back when light suddenly springs from his hands like he’s shooting laser beams, illuminating the chalk runes on the ground. They glow electric blue, pulsing with energy that makes the hair on my arms stand up.
This is real. This is actually real magic.
“What’s happening?” Abaddon’s demand cuts through my shock.
Layden doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t even slow down. Light keeps pouring from his hands into the circle as he shouts back, “We finally figured out what the AI’s doing, and there’s no time!”
“Well?” Vlad’s shout makes me flinch. The ancient vampire appears at the edge of the circle like he materialized from shadows, his voice carrying centuries of command. “What is it?”
He moves forward, one foot lifting to step into the circle?—
“Don’t!” Phoenix’s scream splits the air as she launches herself at her grandfather, shoving him back with both hands. He stumbles—the vampire stumbles—and I realize how much strength it must have taken for her to move him.
His face twists with fury, the kind of rage that probably toppled kingdoms once upon a time. But he stays back.
My eyes dart to Remus, some instinct making me check on him. After our fight—after everything he said about wanting chaos, about his nature—is he in the mood to do somethingreckless? To throw himself into whatever dangerous magic they’re conjuring?
But he’s still. Watchful. His eyes dart around the scene, cataloging everything with an intensity I’m starting to recognize. He’s not charging in blindly. He’sthinking.
