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The main reason I stood there, however, at least at first, had to do with my utter bewilderment as to where we were. I honestly couldn’t believe it at first. All that time, I’d bought into the illusion much more than I’d realized. I hadn’t really thought in a practical way about the references to the river, or even to New York, or how things must have looked here during the Eighteenth Century, when all of the original mansions in this part of town had been originally built. I’d really thought we were out in the country somewhere, that the house would still be surrounded by fields and bluebells.

I’d expected to see sky, the oak tree with its lazy swing, a pond in the distance.

Instead, cars rushed by on the other side of the mansion’s pull-through driveway. A fountain stood in a small bed of ivy and rose bushes just inside the iron gate protecting the house from the road, and the mass of humanity that passed by on the other side.

A stone woman in the fountain held an urn.

My mind’s eye saw Brick’s mother there, with her flowing auburn tresses.

She smiled faintly, but I saw that colder, empty look as she stared past it.

Stepping a little past the car, I peered down the road.

Instantly, I pinpointed our exact location.

I’d already guessed the city, just from the cars, the look of the taxis, and the horse-drawn carriage I saw clip-clop by on the opposite side of the street. Now I knew where we were for certain. Moreover, I knew our rough location within the city.

We were on southern part of Museum Mile, in Manhattan, just across from Central Park on Fifth Avenue.

Smack dab in the middle of New York City.

I could just glimpse the Met, a few blocks down from where Brick’s driveway ended.

I stared at the street sign on the block, watching the cars whizz by, the yellow taxis with their lights on and off, the bike messengers sprinting by as they wove between traffic. I wrapped my arms around the dirty remains of my wedding dress and watched it all, incredulous.

I couldn’t believe it.

I really couldn’t believe where we were.

Brick had seers and alien vampires coming out of his mother’s basement here, in one of the wealthiest areas of Manhattan.

How was that even possible?

I didn’t stop looking up and down the street until Black spoke.

I turned at the sound of his voice, a little shocked by how calm he sounded.

“It’s over, Brick,” he said. “We’re done.”

I heard the touch of ice in his words, mixed with a touch of steel.

I wondered if Brick heard it.

From his expression, Brick clearly heard something.

The vampire king blinked at him, then smiled.

“Excuse me?” He lifted a hand to one ear. “I’m sorry. I can’t quite hear you from the traffic, Quentin.”

It would have been laughable, if I wasn’t still making every effort not to punch the vampire in the face. From what I knew, a vampire could hear a dog whining inside a parked car ten blocks down. Likely while a fire engine went by, all of its bells and alarms clanging.

Vampire hearing wasn’t just good.

It was freakishly good.

Black shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“This isn’t a declaration of war, Brick.” Black’s expression remained completely smooth. “It’s not a declaration of peace, either. It’s a declaration ofstay the fuck away from me and my people from now on, and we’ll very politely and discreetly do the same.”