“No magical takeaway from these guys, huh?”

I felt a smile crack my face and forced it back. “No.”

“What’s their motto?”

“‘Our own, first. Always.’”

“It sounds like they wouldn’t spit on you if you were on fire.”

“That’s accurate.” I stopped in front of the stone wall. There was nothing here—no door or window or light fixture. At least, not that the eye could see. Quickly, I located the stone that I wanted and tapped twice.

Pale magic sparked in the air, and faint wisps of light swirled in front of the stone.

“What are you doing?” Carrow asked.

“Secret entrance. Most of the sorcerers . . . don’t like me.”

“But you do have a contact inside?”

“I do, and this door was built especially for my use.”

“This is who you are, then? Someone who has secret power all over the city, lurking around like a giant bat?”

A rare grin cracked my face, and I almost felt a laugh rise to the surface. Almost. I looked down at her. “A giant bat?”

“You’re the one who made the flying joke.” She grinned up at me, so beautiful in the moonlight that it hurt to look at her. The glow of the moon seemed to give her a bit of extra color that my turned eyes couldn’t normally pick up.

My gaze lingered on the smooth skin of her throat, and I swallowed hard. There was something about her—about her energy and her spirit, as strange as it sounded—that called to me. I couldn’t compel her, and I liked that. But it was more than that. Strange to feel so much for someone I’d known so little . . . and bloody uncomfortable.

“You know, because you’re a vampire,” she clarified.

I’d been staring at her in silence for too long, and she’d taken it for confusion. “I understand,” I said.

“Are you really hundreds of years old?” She searched my face, avoiding my eyes. “Really Vlad the Impaler?”

Guilt streaked through me, so visceral and real that I almost twitched. Those memories were long buried—for my own sanity. I’d done things I wasn’t proud of, and in terrible moments, I wondered if I’d wanted to do them.

I had.

It had been more than the blood lust and insanity of a newly turned vampire.

I’d wanted to do terrible things.

The wall in front of me began to dissolve, and I turned to it, grateful for the interruption. I could feel her gaze on me as the wall disappeared entirely.

A pale man stood there, tall and broad-shouldered and wearing the long black cloak of the Sorcerers’ Guild. I felt a streak of annoyance as Carrow’s attention shifted to Remington. I didn’t want her to look at him. I wanted her gaze on me, always.

“Devil.” Remington nodded his head, his eyes going to Carrow. He frowned. “And a guest?”

“Indeed.”

“This is unusual.”

“Don’t think too deeply about it.” I had no intention of introducing Carrow. She was mine, though she didn’t know it yet, and Remington was powerful and dangerous. I didn’t want him to get too interested in her.

“I’m Carrow Burton,” she said.

I stifled an annoyed noise. I should have anticipated that Carrow would do whatever the hell she wanted. I hadn’t known her long, but I did know that.

“Remington, Sorcerers’ Guild.”

“I can see that.” Her gaze moved over the building. “Nice place you have here.”

Remington’s brows rose. Nice place.

I nearly chuckled again. That was two times she’d nearly made me laugh, two times in hundreds of years. It made my throat feel strange, and I resisted rubbing it.

“Come.” Remington turned and led us into a darkened stairwell, a magical and secret set of stairs that he’d created.

We strode up the dark, narrow steps, six stories that rose up and up, until we arrived at the roof. Remington opened the hatch at the top of the tower, and we followed him out and into the open air.

It always felt closer to the moon up here, something that I enjoyed. One of the few things I enjoyed these days. A faint breeze blew across the top of the tower, bringing the scent of rain with it. The city sprawled beneath us, ancient streets twisting alongside each other, golden streetlamps glowing.

Remington turned to us. “What can I do for you, Devil?”

I held out my hand to Carrow. “Your mobile, please.”

She pulled it out of her pocket and fiddled with it for a moment. When she handed it to me, the image of the body was on the screen. The burn mark was clear—two stars overlapping each other. I showed it to Remington. “We want to track whoever made this mark.”

He studied it a moment, a frown stretching across his face. “A necromancer?”

“We believe so.”

He grimaced. “Best find him soon, then.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“Give me a moment, and I’ll get what I need.” Remington strode back to the stairs.

“He won’t be long.” I handed Carrow her mobile back.

“He’ll do the spell up here?”

“It seems so.”

She looked like some kind of ancient goddess with the wind blowing her hair back from her face and intensity gleaming in her eyes. “Why didn’t you answer my question down on the wall?”

Bloody hell. She wasn’t going to let that one go. “Are you happy in the human world?”

She frowned. “You’re changing the subject.”

“You’re quick.”

“And not susceptible to flattery.”

“Answer my question, and perhaps I’ll answer yours.”

“I don’t like the sound of that perhaps.”

“It’s the best you’ll get.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I am happy in the human world.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’d like to.”

She hesitated at that, surprise flashing across her face. “Really?”

“Very much.” My candor startled me. I rarely shared my thoughts with anyone. Unnecessary when I could get whatever I wanted. I was very good at getting my own way. “Tell me. Are you happy in the real world? The human one?”

“What is happy?”

“That’s a no, then.”

She shrugged. “It’s my home.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

She looked past me, out at the city. Her face turned wistful, and something tightened in my heart. I grimaced, barely resisting rubbing my chest.

Feelings.

I didn’t like them.

Unfortunately, around her, it seemed impossible not to have them.

“What is it about the human world that you like?”

She blinked at me, seeming confused. “My books from Beatrix, I suppose. Cordelia.”

“Who is Cordelia?”

“A raccoon.”

“What?”

“I like her, okay? She lives in the alley behind my flat. Or at least, I thought she did.”

I couldn’t do anything about a raccoon. But the books… “Your books? Surely you could bring those here.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? That doesn’t make any sense. They are just books. They can be taken from London to Guild City.”

“I’d need to go back and get them, and as it stands, I’m a wanted woman.” A shadow crossed her face. “There’s every chance the police have taken them into evidence.”

“Well, with any luck, we’ll have you off the hook for that crime soon. And we’ll avenge your friend.”

“It may be too late.”

“It’s never too late.” That was a bloody lie. It was often too late. I’d learned that the hard way. “But if that’s all you have there, I see no reason why you would stay in the human world.”

She was silent for a moment, and I could see the thoughts turning behind her eyes. “What about you? I answered you. Your turn.”

My enhanced hearing picked up the sound of footsteps, and I grinned. “I believe Remington is returning.”

“You haven’t answered my questions.”

“Alas, I have not.”

“That’s not fair.”

“It certainly isn’t.”

Carrow

I grumbled, giving the Devil one last annoyed look. He’d told me his name was Grey, but it was still hard to think of him that way.

Remington appeared through the trap door, a leather bag in his hands. He approached, asking, “Could I see that image again?”

I pulled out my mobile, showing the picture to Remington. He studied it for a moment, then nodded. “That’s all I need, thank you.”

Quickly, I put the mobile back in my pocket. The Devil stood next to me. His face was impassive as the sorcerer reached inside his leather bag. This was old hat to him, but magic still astounded me.

He still astounded me.

A vampire, and one who so quickly saw to the heart of me. Who distracted me so easily. Who played me like a fiddle.

I didn’t like it.

I stepped away from him, determined to ignore him. It wasn’t easy when his scent wrapped around me, rich and delicious. I wanted to breathe him in. Hell, I just wanted to stand in his presence and feel whatever strange connection it was that we had. I was afraid of him, I didn’t particularly like him, but damn if he didn’t make me feel good just by standing next to me.

Alive. That’s how I felt. So alive that I vibrated with it.

In the human world, I’d existed, a shadow life in a shadow world. There, but not there. Half dead, even. Just me and Cordelia and my little single-size boxes of wine.

And now I was here, and the world seemed so big and open and amazing.

Remington pulled various vials of potion out of his bag and poured them on the ground like paint, drawing a pattern that matched the image on my phone. The symbol that had been carved—or burned—into the victim’s chest appeared on the rooftop, two meters wide, a perfect duplicate at a larger scale.