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Maybe longer.

“You’ll let me go this time?” I joked.

He didn’t return my smile. “If that is what you wish.”

Why was it hard to make the words come out? “It is.”

Raphael nodded once, his white hair sweeping forward as he dipped his chin. Then he turned without another glance and disappeared into the night.

Once more, I was alone.

Chapter Sixteen

I spent a nighton the streets. Or more accurately, on a roof.

Though Raphael had left me with a few coins, spending them on something as luxurious as a roof over my head seemed wasteful. The vampire had disappeared into the darkness, and I didn’t want to walk out into the woods by myself.

I was no stranger to hidden sleeping spots. I woke early with the rising sun and readied to say something to the vampire.

But of course, I was alone once more.

How… familiar.

Notfor much longer. I would break away from that loneliness. Joining the Monastery would change everything. If they could forgive killers and thieves, surely allying with a vampire—briefly—and some mild treason could be overlooked.

The gods were the big picture sort, right?

I should have headed directly to the white tower, but instead I found myself wandering through the city. I loathed the change that came over me. With the vampire nearby, I’d begun to walk the way my mother taught me—shoulders back, head high.The same way Raphael walked, I thought ruefully. After all, if anyone made a move for me, he’d deal with them viciously. More to the point, with him by my side, no one would make a move to begin with.

Without him, I returned to my old defenses. Head down, hood pulled up. My shoulders hunched as I wove between crowds, taking quick steps to avoid lingering long enough for someone to mark me as a target. Always move with a purpose, even if you have none. It was true everywhere from prisons to castles.

Magic hummed in the air. Would I miss it, in the Monastery? As a void, I had none. I shouldn’t feel any kind of loss. By rights, magic didn’t belong to me. But I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand how the followers of the sect scorned something so lovely.

By midday, I’d ceased my wandering and headed to the building. The white tower was easy to find. The buildingwas larger at the base before rising into an obelisk, perhaps a quarter the size of the Great Library.

I knocked. Once. Twice. Then, after a long moment, I lifted my hand for a third desperate time.

The door opened inward. A woman greeted me. She wore the simple white robes of all devotees, with clasps at the shoulders and a golden belt cinching the waist.

“Yes?” she said expectantly.

I swallowed. What do people say? Did they fall to their knees, begging to join? Did they have pretty euphemisms?

“I’d… I’d like to join the Monastery.”

The smile that broke across her face was brighter than the noonday sun. “Then welcome, friend. Join us.”

She moved so I could come inside, then offered to take my cloak. I was reluctant to part with it, but I wanted to make a good impression, so I let her.

“I’m Slyne, a devotee of Lixa.”

I plastered a smile on my face that felt utterly unnatural. “I’m Samara.”

The inside of the Monastery was as crowded as the Great Library, but instead of books, there were statues, formed in the likeness of every deity of the pantheon, of every size and shape hewn from gray marble lining the halls: Dolor, the thorned god of suffering, Isolde, the goddess of the night skies; and other gods I didn’t even recognize. While the Monastery paid its respects to every deity, the average witch only learned a few key figures. The unseeing eyes ofthe statues seemed to follow us as we moved farther into the tower.

I think I preferred the books.

“You’ve come at a good time,” Slyne tossed over her shoulder as we went up the stairs. “We’re enjoying a lunch after morning worship.”