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“What’d I say about knocking?” Casen growled around a mouthful of smoke.

“Sorry,” the young warlock muttered, cheeks ruddy and speckled with craters. “Got a couple people here to see you, but I can tell them to come back—”

“Who are they?”

The warlock turned toward the hallway—and the people he was escorting.

“It’s Dom,” called the Angel of Death.

The Butcher beckoned with a giant hand, the motion sending curls of smoke above the desk. “Send them in.”

The young warlock stepped aside, leaving room for Dominic and Blue to enter, and shut the door behind them.

Max slid his chair aside. “Take a look at this, will you, Blue?” He gestured to the screen.

She stepped up to it, waving aside the heavy smoke that was making her cough. She leaned down to see the screen better, the hair that had grown to her collarbones slipping forward to partially conceal her face. “What is this?”

“You ever been here before?” Max asked, his heart beating faster. “This is Foxhill Rentals—the place where those men who took you rented their car.”

“I have never been,” she said, squinting at the screen. “But…” She pointed at a thumbnail of another photo, and the Butcher enlarged it. “I recognize the name—the…”

“Logo?” Dominic prompted.

She nodded.

A bubbly pop song exploded into the room.

“Shit,” Dallas muttered. She fumbled to get her phone out of her pocket and checked the screen. “My bad.”

The Butcher gave a gravelly chuckle. “Now that’s something you don’t hear at the Chopping Block every day,” he said. He blew a smoke ring at the ceiling.

Dallas stood and walked to the corner of the room before answering the call. “Hello?”

Max turned to Casen. “Foxhill Rentals—where is it?”

Casen angled the laptop so he could see it better. A couple clicks, and he found the address. “Foxhill—would ya look at that? A town in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.” He enlarged a map and zoomed in. Max had never been there before—never even heard of it. Casen studied Max’s expression—whatever it was. “That’s quite the drive.”

“Max?” Dallas called.

He turned.

“That was Sabrine—she said to get down to the school.”

“Why?”

“She didn’t say.”

“Is it an emergency?”

“She said it’s important.”

Dominic shared a look with Max. “How are we supposed to get into AA without Atlas?” the Angel asked.

Max sighed. He made a good point; Atlas was the only person Max knew who was skilled enough in hacking to get through the protective spells over Angelthene Academy.

“I have an idea,” Dallas said. She studied Dom with a smile that spelled trouble. “You probably won’t like it, though.”

Dom frowned. “Delaney?”