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And then she swept her right hand behind her and snagged two of the syringes from the briefcases, being careful not to let the glass clink.

Her heart threatened to race as she used Darien’s hoodie to conceal the syringes and stuffed them in her bag. She still had one spare syringe, which gave her three in total. It never hurt to have an extra.

When she was finished, she put the t-shirt back on. She zipped her bag shut and shoved it under the table, hoping no one would snoop through her things while she was in Spirit Terra. Lastly, she ripped the jacket out of Klay’s hold and draped it across her bag.

Everyone in the area turned to look at her as she stood.

“Let’s go,” she said. Pushing her hair to one side, she walked forward, allowing one of the imperator’s men to insert a Life Clock into her neck, needle pinching. She twisted the ring on her finger, bodysuit covering her from her head to her toes.

Particles and balls of light floated about as she stepped through the Veil, wincing at the feeling of her soul being pulled about, like a strip of too-thin fabric put through a wringer.

With a deep breath that did not shake, she prepared to do whatever was necessary to make it back to Darien on time.

—

Seven o’clock had finally arrived.

The city was shrouded in a thick blanket of fog. The southern end of the Financial District was always cleared out by this hour, the hundreds of businesses dotting the blocks having adapted their closing schedules to fit the hunting patterns of the demons running amuck in the abandoned subway system. Construction of a sky train was nearly completed, the elevated guideway a far safer option for a city whose pest problem had prompted them to shut down one of the most reliable forms of transit.

Dressed in a hoodie, a sports hat, and blue jeans, Darien walked through the wall of fog, using his Sight to navigate, the shades that made up his soul hidden with Nacht Essentia. The demons were already out, their smoky auras burning like dark stars in the parkades, alleys, and shopping square far ahead. Through the pavement beneath his feet, he saw hundreds of them swarming the tunnels. They crowded the old subway tracks, fighting over bones and feasting on rats.

The subway entrance up ahead was gated and locked. A lone figure stood beside it, the hood of her long coat hiding her face. A small wildcat Familiar sat at her side, long tail twitching.

As soon as Christa recognized him, she came closer, her Familiar following on light paws. They both froze when they spotted the three silhouettes—three Reapers—walking at Darien’s back.

Christa backed up, her body angled to run in the opposite direction. Darien could hear her heart sprinting from here. “I asked you to come alone.” Her smoky voice carried through the chalky fog.

Darien stopped three paces away, Malakai, Valen, and Sylvan doing the same. They, too, were dressed casually, their auras concealed with the same plant that had given him the fuck-around for months.

“And I seem to have misplaced my trust for you,” Darien replied coolly. Seeing the fear written on her doll-like face, Darien added, “Relax, Christa. I’m the same person I’ve always been. None of us will harm you, I swear it.”

A minute later, her body visibly relaxed. Reangling to face their group, she drew a deep breath and found her words. “After Channary accepted your offer, she was approached by Lionel,” she began. “They had plans to ally to try to overthrow you, but after finding out you’d managed to obtain the approval of nearly every house, she determined the risk wasn’t worth the reward. Lionel, however, wasn’t willing to let it go so easily. He knew he had to make Channary an offer that was better than yours, and that…that was exactly what he did.” The look on her face was hard to read, but there was apprehension there.

Darien said, “What did he offer her?”

“As Randal’s former Right Hand, Lionel knew a lot of the moves Randal made. Can you think of the one thing that would be of more value to both of them than the Darkslaying throne?” She allowed for a pause, her gaze flicking to Malakai for one split second. Darien knew exactly what she was about to say, but the words were out of her mouth before he could stop her. “The Arcanum Well.”

Tension prickled among their group. Darien felt his heart briefly stop, the feeling soon doubled by Valen and Sylvan murmuring to each other, their words too quiet to pick out.

He shouldn’t have brought the Reapers here, should’ve come alone—

Malakai said, “I’ve heard rumors about this.” His tone was electric with hope. “I also heard a girl is the key to using it.”

Christa looked at Darien, and he looked back at her. Darien held her stare and shook his head—just barely, the motion too subtle for anyone other than Christa to notice. Darien willed her to read the one word he was spelling out in his gaze.

Please.

With another deep breath, Christa said to Malakai, “These are just rumors. None of them have been proven true.”

Darien hurried to speak before the Reapers could ask any questions of their own. “What else do you know?”

“That Lionel and Channary are biding their time concerning several things. Number one: they know there are people looking for the Well, and they figure if they stand by and wait for the right time, they can swoop in and take it as soon as someone else—”

“Has done all the work for them,” Darien concluded.

“Yes,” Christa confirmed with a stiff nod. “Number two: the Well gives a person unlimited access to their magic. With it, they would be stronger than everyone. Even you.” Her eyes were all for Darien, and he could see her worry for him simmering within. “Number three: Channary knows who Gaven is. I believe she plans to notify him of your attempts to throw him behind bars, so that it will create a problem for you as soon as she needs it. Her knowledge is a weapon she is waiting to fire.” Not to mention that killing another circle was grounds enough to start a war among all of Angelthene’s Darkslayers, so if she used Gaven to take down Darien and his Devils instead…

For god’s sake. This was bad.