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“W hen does the abjurist arrive?”

I crunched through broken glass to where Riordan stood at the window, his pale profile etched against the darkness beyond, while Eldric perched in a broken chair, beside the stack of books Fiona had brought, studying the same one for the last hour.

She’d slammed them down in front of her brother, given us a glare that would have flayed skin from bone, muttering about males and their tempers and we hadn’t seen her since.

“At dawn.” Rohr’s eyes slid to mine, a wry smile on his lips. “Maybe, once this room is put to rights, Evie will forgive us.”

“You mean, after we grovel for a few weeks, but I wouldn’t hold my breath. She was pretty pissed last night.”

“Maybe we should take her breakfast in bed while they’re fixing everything,” he suggested casually. “Then keep her in bed until lunch. Or dinner.”

“That’s the best idea you’ve had in ages.” Those four days Evie had been with Malachi still grated on me, jealousy rising up to gnaw at me at the most inopportune times, because I couldn’t shake the feeling we would never be rid of Malachi Draven.

Where did that fucker go ? Riordan groused. He drops that mysterious ‘I know where Ravok is’ bullshit, then vanishes into thin air.

Fuck if I know, but as long as he’s not with Evie, I seriously don’t give a shit.

“Have you learned anything helpful?” I asked Eldric. “Like how to kill the fucker, once we find him?”

“This transformation isn't only about physical change,” he said, flipping a page. “It's about warping reality itself. This is about magic, the kind none of us have ever seen or dealt with.” He pegged us with an even, golden stare that was just short of mocking. “So no, I have not, in the forty-two minutes I’ve been reading, figured out how to kill an immortal being. But I’ll let you know if something turns up.”

“Asshole,” I muttered.

“Impatient vulture,” he countered pleasantly.

“Anyway,” Riordan redirected, his lips twitching, “Once we have a location, we’ll…”

Nash burst in, phone still clutched in his hand, face tight. “I just got off with Brendan Thorne in Ireland,” he announced, the name sending ripples of recognition through me. I’d met Thorne once, the advisor to Queen Maeve of the Shadowsend Clan, a no-nonsense male who was as clever as he was honest.

“Brendan provided intel on House Vespertine and Malvyth,” Nash breathed, “Long story short, forget Volkmar. He was a madman and a tyrant, but something of this magnitude was beyond his capabilities.”

“So we concentrate on Lord de Noct,” I decided, with some trepidation. Fighting in unfamiliar territory turned my stomach to lead, given all the unknowns. “Speaking of which, where the fuck is Malachi? Shouldn’t he be back by now?”

Nash’s phone buzzed, he put it to his ear and stepped out.

“Can we get this fucking lucky?” Riordan asked quietly, “Finding Ravok this easily, his army decimated, leaving him exposed?”

“Luck is a relative term, when we’re talking about facing a vampire as powerful as Ravok. Even together…fighting him will take careful coordination. Practice. ”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t celebrate too soon,” Eldric cut in. “If Ravok manages to transform, he’ll be unkillable.” His finger tapped the page as he stared into the fire, his golden eyes reflecting the flames. “His cellular structure would cease to be mortal. When I say he’d be a god, I mean, he would be a fucking god .”

“The bastard’s pretty goddamned unkillable now,” I hissed, yanking out my blade. “Even working together, spreading our attack out…that didn’t work. We have to concentrate all our magic into one point, like the tip of this knife.”

“I mean our magic would have no effect on him,” Eldric said impatiently, like I was some kind of idiot. “He would exist on multiple dimensional planes, possess the kind of power that births galaxies. We might as well be cavemen still figuring out how fire works.” He slammed his book shut.

“There’s still no proof any of this is possible,” Riordan murmured, folding his arms over his chest. “Everything so far is just…theory.”

“Romulus sounded pretty fucking sure the process had started,” I pointed out. “What do you know, library boy? Since you’re our resident expert?”

Eldric scrolled through his phone, frowning at whatever he was reading. “Give me a fucking minute, you impatient bastard.”

Then he held up a hand. “I got something. The seat of House Vespertine is Chateau des Ombres, a formidable stone fortress nestled within the mist-shrouded peaks of the Vosges Mountains in northeastern France…blah blah blah…”

Eldric scrolled faster.

“Here we go… records indicate Lord de Noc selected this location not for its strategic military advantage, but rather for the extensive network of natural caves and passageways. These labyrinthine tunnels have been the subject of local legend, with locals describing inexplicable sounds, sudden temperature fluctuations, and the occasional power surge from the castle’s location, even after the castle fell into disrepair.”

“I’d say we have a winner.” My murmur was lost in the horror spiraling through me as I peered down at the picture on the screen, of a tumbled ruin half hidden in a tangle of pine trees and ivy. “The location meets all the criteria, but it’ll be a bitch to get to.”

Eldric set his phone down. “And don’t forget. Ravok can see the future, and he might not have the manpower, but he’ll have countermeasures in place, so no matter how solid your plans are, or how well thought out your strategy, there will be no surprising him.”

“So…where does that leave us?” Riordan asked softly.

“Two steps behind.” I stared at the fire.

Because Ravok was always one step ahead of everyone.

We were fools to believe we had any chance of surprising him. No, he’d expect whatever strategy we came up with, which meant he already knew we’d combine our magic.

Whatever Ravok’s expectations, we had to shift the advantage to our side and I had no earthly idea how.