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“And the strobe lights? Are those entirely necessary?” He gestured at the arches, still flashing erratically.

“Strategic ambiance,” she said sweetly. “Psychological priming. Flash ‘em until they flinch. Works on time mages and small animals.”

Taly stared at her.Yep. Definitely a psychopath.

The corpse gave the illusion of a sigh, a slow release of something that wasn’t breath. He leaned against the table, hands flat.His fingers curled against the wood, deliberate, controlled. As if restraining himself from flipping it.

“Remind me,” he said, each word measured in a way that promised consequences. “What, exactly, were my instructions?”

Luck opened her mouth like she might answer—

His fist slammed into the table. Luck jumped.

“Make a good impression. That was it. No theatrics, no stunts. Just a quiet, respectable exchange between future friends.”

He exhaled sharply—a forced motion, performed rather than felt. His gaze cut back to Luck, flat and cold.

“And instead, you give me a rave.”

He waved a hand at the strobing lights, blinking as if they physically pained him.

“And this?” He cast a disdainful glance down his body. “I requested approachable sophistication. A quiet authority. Maybe a hint of danger. How do you get from that to—what, exactly? Am I a sponge for her bullets? Was that your intent?”

“You have to admit, she does seem a bit calmer now that she’s shot you a few times,” Luck pointed out.

The corpse’s stare didn’t waver, his gaze darkening as the silence grew heavier. Luck shifted on her feet, her earlier smirk fading as her eyes dropped.

Taly clenched her jaw. She really,reallydidn’t like this girl—but she also couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe she had a responsibility to keep a child from being murdered right in front of her. No matter how obnoxious that child happened to be.

She was still deciding when the corpse smiled, the tension snapping as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, I can’t stay mad at you.” He ruffled the girl’s hair. “A unique talent for lawlessness, this one. In addition to other abilities, obviously.”

A gesture around the room.

“Still, Luck, darling—perhaps you could kill the lighting. Also, get me a better suit. You know how I feel about possessing the dead. Convenient, to be sure, and unnerving,” he added with a wink at Taly. “But honestly, the lack of proper… circulation… is rather distracting. One needs all one’s faculties for a negotiation of this magnitude.”

Luck sighed. “You’re no fun.”

“I know. But how about this? Help me finish here, and you can choose what screams next.”

Luck perked up at that, then snapped her fingers. The arches cut off instantly, the light evening out over the room.

And the corpse—he also changed. Flesh melted, limbs stretched. The rough, gray skin softened, becoming pale and flawless. Long, dark hair spilled down his back.

“You’ll have to forgive her,” he said, gesturing toward the girl. With each word, the roughness in his voice smoothed, slipping into something almost musical. “She’s been cooped up far too long. I probably should’ve taken her for a walk first to get out some of that pent-up blood rage before unleashing her upon the world. Ah, well, live and learn.”

“Who are you?” Taly whispered.

“Why, my dear, isn’t it obvious?” With a winning smile, he spread his arms. “I’mhim. The commander of the undead legion. Vaughn’s… employer, if you will. Andthisis the part of the story where our intrepid herofinallycomes face-to-face with the ever-charming, dashingly enigmatic, profoundly misunderstood villain—none other than yours truly.”

He straightened his jacket—now free of bullet holes—before bowing, flourishing a hand with practiced drama. “Aneirin, at your service. Aneirin of the Ash-Shallayn.”

He presented it to her like a gift, as if she should be dazzled by the mere sound of it.

But Taly wasn’t dazzled. She wasn’t afraid.

She was angry.

This was the man who had defiled her home. Who had sent his armies to carve through her island like rot through wood.