And even in the middle of everything that went down over New Year’s, I’d seen it. The shadows that lingered too long around her fingers. The way Boris’s rhythm had gone sharp and uneven. The way she’d made me promise to stop her if it ever got bad.
My ring was cold against my collarbone. What if it already had, and I’d been too far away to see it clearly?
How was Albany? Keane asked, breaking into my thoughts. Your mom?
Good. Complicated. The usual, I said, falling into step between them as we headed toward the exit.
She’s still wrapping her head around the whole ‘magic is real’ thing—and that I kind of torched Christmas with my ‘research project’ excuse. Most of January was damage control. But I made good on our raincheck Christmas: cookies, terrible movies, the works. It was late, but we pretended it still counted. Aunt Nancy even visited.
That’s a lot, Keane said, giving my hand a quiet squeeze.
Yeah, I said, and Mom made me promise to call often. She keeps asking these very careful questions about whether I’m ‘safe.’ I huffed a laugh. Which, sure. Because everything about Wickem just radiates stability.
I glanced between them. And I told her I’d made some good friends—leaving out the part where you’re mostly guys—but she still launched right into the ‘smart choices’ lecture.
Elio’s grin was wicked. Translated: please don’t come home magically pregnant.
Pretty much. Heat crept up my neck. Lots of talk about ‘focusing on my studies’ and ‘not getting distracted,’ which I think was code for: I know what happens at college, and I’m choosing denial. But I did my best to reassure her I’m safe.
Elio gave a half-smile. Right. Start with ‘not being murdered,’ ease into ‘might be dating three guys with very questionable reputations.’
Exactly, I said with a smile. But she is doing really well otherwise. Her cleaning business is picking up, and she’s been taking some night classes at the community college. Accounting.
Pride colored my voice. Mom had spent so many years just surviving, working multiple jobs to keep us afloat. Seeing her finally have the space to think about what she wanted for herself felt like magic of its own kind.
That’s wonderful, Keane said.
The sliding doors whooshed as we stepped out into the crisp January air. I shivered despite my coat. Colorado winters were harsher than Albany’s, all thin air and biting wind.
I had so much to catch up on that I didn’t even know where to start. We’d had some conversations over break, but they’d been brief—careful updates that didn’t quite fill the month-sized gap.
The interim council is still working? I asked.
Keane nodded. But there’s a lot to go through. Who’s compromised and who’s not.
And the vampire situation? I asked cautiously.
Keane’s expression tightened. Complicated. With the council conspiracy exposed, most vampire clans have pulled back. They’re not interested in fighting a manufactured war. But the master’s loyalists… He exchanged a glance with Elio. That’s different.
Guard Parker’s been tracking them through Levon’s network, Elio added. The ones still attacking are specifically his—corrupted and controlled. The rest have gone quiet. Waiting to see how it plays out.
That was something, at least. The endless war that had shaped our entire world—the attacks, the fear, the justification for militant council control—mostly over. Exposed as the lie it had always been.
But the master’s forces were real enough. And more dangerous for being deliberate.
Keane had gone quiet the way he did when something was still forming. I’ve been running portal windows along the ley lines between his known attack sites. There’s a pattern. I haven’t finished working out what it means yet.
You’ll figure it out, I said, and I meant it. He always did.
As we neared the spot where Keane would open the portal, I asked, And how’s Cyrus been? The question came out too casual to be innocent.
They exchanged a glance.
I looked down, fiddling with the button on my coat and pretending it didn’t mean anything while I waited.
Intense, Elio said. He’s been training nonstop. Burning through practice dummies like they said something personal.
Keane picked up the thread. He stayed on campus. His father asked him to because he didn’t want him alone out there. Raynoff is busy with the emergency council trying to clean up everything.
