Hell was about to break loose.
In that moment, Jules burst through the velvet curtains with a panicked energy that confirmed every instinct that had been screaming danger in my skull. I stood so abruptly the barstool nearly clattered to the floor, the legs scraping against polished wood.
“Where is she?” I asked, already moving.
I caught Jules’s arm—her skin warm beneath my palm, her pulse hammering against my fingertips like a frightened bird—and steered her back towards the curtains she had just emerged from. Her cotton candy perfume was overpowering this close, sickly sweet and cloying.
“She’s fine. No, wait. She’s safe, but she’s notfine.” The words tumbled out of her in a rush, tripping over each other. “I need you to come with me. She needs you. Or at least I think you'll be the best person to help her.”
In her panicked state, she hadn’t realized I was already leading us backstage, my grip firm enough to bruise. Whatever had happened to Violet, I was about to rain Hell’s fire down on every soul responsible.
If one hair on her head has been harmed—
The thought cut off as Jules led me through the maze of hallways, heading deeper into Oubliette. The walls there were the same deep burgundy velvet, but the doors were different. Soundproofed, I suspected, given their thickness.
She stopped before a door and pushed it open.
The room beyond was small, intimate, furnished with a leather settee and low lighting that cast everything in amber and shadow. Violet lay curled on the settee, her body trembling, her skin flushed a deep rose that looked wrong against her natural coloring. A woman I didn’t recognize sat beside her—petite frame, high cheekbones, hawkish nose, and neon blue pixie-cut hair. Her eyes were lined with orange kohl that made her look like a cartoon character.
Who and what was this?I rounded on Jules, my voice dropping to a dangerous level. “What happened to her?”
“I don’t know! I swear, Rowan, I don’t—"
“She was fine when I left her with you.” I took a step closer, watching Jules’s eyes widen. “I left her under your protection. UnderOubliette’sprotection. So, explain to me how she ended up likethat.” I pointed at Violet, my voice calmer than the storm breaking within me.
“Celine found her in the hallway after her last set,” Jules said, her words coming faster now. “She could barely stand. Someone must have slipped her something, but I don’t know who or when—"
“You do not know?” My hands clenched into fists. “Or you will not tell me?”
“I don’t know!” Her voice pitched higher. “Nobody should have done this, not withHisprotection—"
His protection? Whose? Irrelevant in that moment. “Yet someonedid.” I grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall hard enough that her head cracked against velvet-covered stone. Her eyes went wide, mouth opening in a soundless gasp of pain as my fingers tightened. “So, your protection means nothing.”
I was not one to harm without reason, but seeing Violet frail like this? Some rational part of me snapped. We were pawns in a game for monsters, and Jules had not given me much reason to trust her.
“Rowan—" she choked out, hands scrabbling at my wrist.
Electricity crackled behind me, the air ionizing with the sharp and pungent smell of ozone. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up, my skin prickling with the proximity of power that should not exist in mortal hands. Jules’s eyes widened further, reflecting a flash of cerulean over my shoulder. A blue glow haloed her terrified face.
“You should let her go, lover boy.”
The voice behind me was unearthly, layered, and echoing. It was as if multiple voices spoke in perfect unison—a female andsomethingelse. Something ancient and hungry.
Still holding Jules by the throat, I looked over my shoulder to see the hawk-nosed woman standing now. Her hands crackled with electric blue energy that danced between her fingers like living things. Her eyes had gone completely black—no whites, no irises, just two pits of endless void that swallowed any light near her face.
“Warlock,” I said. Recognition slammed into me like a fist to the gut as her demonic energy danced between us.
I had only encountered one Warlock in my previous life, and that single meeting had taught me exactly why they were hunted by every supernatural kin or clan that discovered them. Whereas some mortals made pacts with demons or gods—uneven trades that cost them dearlyfor a scrap of power—Warlocks reached out to forces far more exotic and dangerous. They shared their lifeforce with whatever entity answered their call from the dark spaces between worlds. Chaos incarnate. Forgotten gods. Abyssal horrors that should never touch a mortal mind.
In my previous life, the supernatural community killed Warlocks on sight. Too unpredictable. Too powerful. Too likely to tear holes in reality simply by existing.
And Jules has one as a friend. Interesting. Inconvenient as fuck right now, but interesting.
“Please, Rowan. I’m trying to help.” Jules’s voice was desperation and pain. Her bright blue eyes were stormy, begging me to believe her. I searched her face for any subtle twitch, looking for the lie that hid beneath her words. I could not find any.
Behind me, Violet let out a moan, and despite the anger simmering, I knew I needed to at least listen to what she was going to say.
I released Jules, shoving her aside hard enough that she stumbled. She collapsed against the wall, coughing and gasping, her hands flying to her throat where my fingers had left red marks. Those were going to bruise purple before breakfast.I should have felt remorse for the marks, but I held little regard when it came to protecting those under my care.
