K IDAN STALKED THE S OUTHERN S OST B UILDINGS FROM A DISTANCE. The three buildings were huddled together like shouldered brothers, timeless in red sandstone and promising blood to anyone who crossed their iron gates. It was four o’clock, and according to her observations, this was when Susenyos arrived for his daily soak.

She took quick strides in that direction and stopped when two familiar boys on a stone ledge outside the left building caught her eye.

GK and Yusef meditated in silence. Yusef drew, earbuds in, and GK read his Mot Zebeya book.

“Kidan!” Yusef waved.

GK closed his book slowly, sighing. “You’re supposed to notice the music only.”

Kidan approached. “What are you guys doing?”

“GK is teaching me one of his Mot Zebeya lessons, being one with nature and stuff.”

“It’s called Settliton,” GK said under his breath. “You should all practice it.”

For two people who often complained about each other, they seemed quite content.

“Here, listen,” Yusef said.

Kidan took one earbud out, bringing it to her ear.

“Nina Simone?”

“She was playing the first time I painted. It helps me get unstuck.”

She leaned against the pillar, looked out over the freshly mown Sheba Square, and listened to the soft jazz and soulful vocals. Kidan didn’t know the last time she had enjoyed music for the sake of it. It felt disconnected from everything she knew.

“So, do you come here often?”

Yusef touched the patterned walls of the hall in appreciation. “These corridors are a tribute to the oldest existing educational institution.”

There were arches above their heads, as if each column supported an invisible moon between it and the roof. Kidan’s fingers traced the geometric work that continued onto the wood pillars.

“Andalusian architecture and art. Breathtaking, isn’t it? Imagine being a companion to a dranaic who lived through those times. My father spent eight months away with his dranaic just creating work. His dranaic would dictate about his life, and my father would capture it all.”

With those words, Yusef’s face looked pinched, and his eyes fell a little. As soon as Kidan read about Yusef’s father, she was a fan. He’d killed ten of his dranaics. The only person in this hellhole who had any sense. She wanted to know how he’d done it. With an impala horn? Was it all at once, or one by one?

She had tried to visit him at Drastfort Prison once but wasn’t allowed access. It wasn’t the prison that had blocked her request. Omar Umil didn’t speak to anyone. So Kidan had decided to write him a letter. She chose her words carefully to disguise their meaning, since the officers read everything first, and wrote out a brief introduction, mentioned Aunt Silia’s death, and asked to see Omar Umil. He had yet to respond. Maybe in her next letter to him she would mention that her study group included his son. Hopefully that would persuade him to see her.

Yusef sighed and took back his earbud. Near his feet, a few crumpled pieces of sketch paper had gathered. He collected them, stuffing them in his pockets.

“Let’s go into town,” he said suddenly, voice bright.

GK sighed, then turned to her. “Come with us.”

Kidan’s lips lifted sadly at the invitation. What she wouldn’t give to just be normal, go off and have fun. Breathe and relax into the little things.

“No, you guys enjoy.”

Yusef waved and walked away, but GK remained. He studied the imposing Southern Sost Buildings shrouded in the swelling clouds, then shot her a pensive look. “Are you sure?”

She blinked at his tone. Did he see her walking toward it? “Yes.”

He nodded slowly, touching those finger bones again. “Be careful.”

Once he left, Kidan worried her bottom lip. Did those chains tell him she’d die in there? She eyed the black iron doors. A small metal plate read,

ACTI STRICTLY PROHIBITED WITHOUT INVITATION.

ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.

There was no other choice. She entered the jaws of the beast.

Dim filtered light broke through the high windows. The Southern Sost Buildings were eyes made of mirrors. Portraits gazed out through glassy, haunted eyes and undressed her. They removed her clothes and flayed open her naked body, taking the wayward parts of her being. Kidan saw pieces of her soul everywhere. The violence of a collapsed bloodied man, a woman staring with terrified yet defiant eyes, a child’s cheeks messy from fat tears. Morbid pessimism clung to every wall.

Then, an odd sound greeted her. A rush of water came from the direction of an ornate door, as if the arched hallway would be flooded any second now.

A tiny engraving above the door read, BATH OF AROWA .

Gently, she eased it open. Warm fog fanned her face immediately and droplets of water stuck to her eyelashes. Through the haze, a spacious room made of marble stretched out, a large basin pool in the middle. Hot water spilled from the mouths of black lion heads, creating a layer of steam. Through the mist, three figures moved. Kidan ducked low and shut the door behind her. The gurgling water masked what little noise she made.

She squinted. The figures were in loose white robes. One of them shrugged theirs off at the edge of the pool. A smooth leg started to wade into the water—Iniko, elegant and beautiful, her breasts soon dipping into the turquoise water, her short hair sleek along her angular face. The boy Kidan had seen with Iniko that first day entered next, muscled chest bare, a gold-plated headband around his forehead.

If they were here, then… Kidan didn’t finish her thought. Susenyos disrobed.

He was built like one of the statues, deep brown skin fitted not to sag or stretch. She forced her gaze away but still caught the sight of his pelvis forming a perfect shape, mist covering the rest as he waded in.

The three of them spread out to edges of the pool and rested their heads. Kidan crouched there, eyes fixed on Susenyos, and skin unbearably warm.

“Taj, I want you to visit three places tomorrow.” Susenyos’s voice, low and earthy, drifted to her. “They’re urgent. Iniko, you’ll have five places.”

Taj groaned. “If I’m acting as hero, maybe they should address the letters to me.”

Letters? Kidan searched her mind and remembered the scrolls in Susenyos’s room. Letter to the Immortal . Was it some sort of encrypted way of communicating?

“There’s an issue with the Axum excavation process, some problem with the locals. They’ll stop the dig if someone doesn’t go.” Annoyance warped Susenyos’s words. “Iniko?”

“Handled. Best I leave before I do something I regret here anyway.”

“Why are you looking at us like that?” Taj gave a light chuckle.

Iniko’s tone curled. “I told you both to stay away from Ramyn, and now she’s dead.”

Kidan drew closer, easing the tension in her crouched legs.

“We all had our fun with her. God rest her little soul.”

Kidan couldn’t identify who said that. The sound of pressurized air deflated in the room, and steam poured from the floor grates lodged every five squares. Heat swept over her body. Her multiple layers of clothing weren’t helping. She pulled out her tie and loosened it, wiping the back of her hand across her sweating forehead. Were there coals behind those grates? How hot did they need this place to be?

It was too quiet. They’d stopped talking. Kidan dared a glance but could only see thick fog. Her heart thundered.

She should leave.

Now.

“What are we looking for?” A low and secret voice tickled the back of her neck.

Kidan’s spine jerked. Every cell in her body whimpered. She couldn’t bring herself to turn, to witness the vampire crouching close.

“This is my lucky day.”

He laughed softly against the bottom of her ear. How had he gotten here so fast?

“You… you can’t hurt me,” she began. “Dean Faris—”

“You willingly entered a prohibited area.” He cut in with too much delight. “The moment you crossed that line, you voided her warning. There are starving dranaics in this building, accidental falls, drowning. So many deaths you’ve made possible, and I cannot be expected to save you from them all. I am not God. Although I do enjoy answering prayers.”

Her stomach withered away. The steam had thickened, so she couldn’t see past the ends of her fingers. Sweat trickled from her temple to her eyes, and she blinked furiously against the irritation.

“So, little bird, shall we stay like this forever or will you look at me?”

Fire scalded the back of her skin, skyrocketing her pulse. She bit the inside of her cheek, using the slash of pain to force her body to turn. If she was going to die, she’d do it while looking at those spoiled eyes.

And what a sight they were, wide and starving. The mist cloaked him like a second skin. His hair was wet and he was naked except for a single towel wrapped around his waist. She swallowed thickly, cheeks heating.

He gave her an appreciative whistle. “Very brave.”

“I’ll… leave.” She made a move back, shoes slippery from the condensation.

He knelt forward, making her freeze. Gently, he grabbed the end of her tie and pulled, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. “I have had many thoughts about this tie of yours.”

She blinked furiously and, when he smiled, launched her fists at him. He captured them in one hand and relieved her of the tie with his other. Her collar remained buttoned up, but without that layer of protection, she felt horribly exposed.

“Give it back,” she snarled.

Then, to her horror, he was using it to secure both her wrists to the metal towel rack above. Her legs kicked out, but the angle made it awkward, and barely any of her attempted assaults landed on him. She was left in half a crouch, trapped with her arms above her head. Kidan shook her braids clear of her sweating face.

He disappeared into the mist. Her panic shot up. Was he going to leave her here to suffocate? Her nostrils burned with the eucalyptus drenching the wet air. She pulled and tried to gnaw at the tie, but it was no use. Her eyes stung, and she cried out breathlessly for help.

White fog swallowed her.

The Bath of Arowa melted away, and smoke seared her throat. The smell of burning body clung to her hair. No matter how many times she’d wash herself, it would never fade. Kidan choked. Inside the mist, Mama Anoet was tied to a chair, fighting for breath, begging for help.

It’s not smoke. You’re not at that house.

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to calm her heart.

You’re fine.

A loud whoosh sucked in a breath. Air thinned and Mama Anoet’s betrayed eyes faded. Kidan’s skin grew goose bumps with the sudden drop in temperature. Relief pumped through her.

Susenyos stood before her, fully clothed. Well, almost. His loose shirt was nearly unbuttoned to his navel. Why even wear it? Susenyos raised a brow at her stare.

Her face burned, and it had nothing to do with the steam.

“Let me go or I’ll scream.” Her arms shook, her top lip slick with sweat.

“Let you go? You’re in my house now. It would be rude to leave without sharing a drink.” He licked his lips, pulling his gaze down to her throat, and smiled when she shivered. “Or you can apologize for defanging me and I can let you go.”

Apologize?

Kidan’s eyes turned to slits. “ Or you can go straight to hell.”

He laughed like he expected this answer and freed her. When she reached for her tie, he held it out of reach, tucking it into his back pocket.

“Your lack of self-preservation, as always, is breathtaking. Let’s see if we can wake it.”