“On the contrary, I really do.”

We ran out of stairs, and the big double doors loomed in front of us. Stella and I opened them at the same time, she on the left and I on the right.

Ten feet away, in a pool of light from the nearest fey lantern streetlamp, stood Nick Feldman.

Oh shit.

Nick looked like a statue from Easter Island, whose eyes were on fire with ice-cold fury.

Stella turned and tried to go back inside. Luther blocked the doorway and shook his head.

Nick’s voice was ice-cold. “Knight Davis.”

Stella turned and faced him. “Yes, sir.”

“Follow me.”

He turned and marched down the path. Stella sprinted after him.

I halted. Nick was having a terrible night. I wasn’t sure if Stella would survive.

Should I go and try to explain? I could lie and say I dragged Stella here. But then he might get angrier that a complete stranger somehow convinced her to disregard his orders. That would make it even worse.

Luther came to stand next to me. “Well, someone is in trouble.”

I didn’t answer. It wasn’t a question, and sometimes silence was the best strategy.

“Ms. Ryder, if I could borrow you for a moment.”

I pivoted to him. “Of course.”

Luther glanced at a red-haired woman holding a set of keys, who stood by the door. “Could you please open the library for us?”

The woman nodded, her expression shell-shocked.

Luther waved at one of the uniformed officers and started down the path toward the library. The three of us trailed him. The woman unlocked the library, Luther thanked her, and she rushed back to Bowden Hall.

Luther looked at the cop. “Stand by the door. Nobody comes in. If an emergency happens, they wait outside, you come and get me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Luther turned to me. “Okay then. Let’s find a comfy spot and chat.”

We headed deeper into the library. The moonlight spilled through towering floor-to-ceiling windows, and our steps sounded too loud in the empty building. The campus clearly didn’t take security too seriously. You could drive a pack of manticores through those windows.

Luther found a group of couches by the window and landed on one of them, indicating another with his hand. I sat.

He studied me for a long moment and smiled. “Love the new face. Have you told the Lennarts that you’re in the city or should I be the one to break the happy news?”

I opened my mouth. Nothing came out. Of all the potholes to walk into.

Luther chuckled. “Take your time.”

“How?”

“As a sensate, you see the nature of magic and the traces living beings leave in their environment. I perceive the specifics of one’s magic, but only when I meet them face-to-face. To me, everyone’s power has a unique signature.”

He had remembered me. I must have been special enough to commit to memory. When we’d first met, he’d accused Kate of holding out on him because she had a sensate all this time. I should’ve asked myself how he’d identified me. I shouldn’t have forgotten this. A blunder.

“I never forget a magic ‘face.’” He tapped his temple. “You’ve evolved. There are layers and layers of power wrapped around your core, but that core remains the same. I remember it from years ago when I first met you. You are still you.”

He had no idea what those words meant to me.

“Did I say something wrong?” he asked gently.

“I have lived through so many versions of me. I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

“This is life,” Luther said. “We change, we alter ourselves, we grow or shrink. It’s part of the human condition. You might have altered your identity, but when I heard you think through the scene, you sounded just like Kate. She always had good instincts and so do you. Hold on to that.”

Huh. I was still me, and “me” sounded like Kate. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

I would need to watch my speech patterns around people who used to know me.

“Would you mind letting me see your full power for a moment? The cloak is obscuring things.”

The cloak was supposed to obscure things. That’s why I had painstakingly crafted it and practiced maintaining it until it became second nature. If I let him see my magic, he would learn way too much about me. If I kept hiding, I would shatter any hope of him trusting me. I needed his trust. I had to convince him to keep my secret.

I met his gaze. “There is a reason I haven’t told my family I’m here. I’ll explain why, but you have to promise not to tell them.”

“So I would know something the Lennarts don’t?” Luther smiled. “My lips are sealed, pending the explanation.”

I dropped the cloak.

Luther became completely still.

We sat quietly, looking at each other. When Erra helped me to unlock the reservoir of magic inside myself, she told me I shone like a star. And then she made me promise I would never show it to my grandfather.

Luther came to, as if waking up, cleared his throat, and reached for me. “May I?”

“Yes.”

He gently took me by the chin, leaned forward, and examined my face. “Fascinating. What happened?”

“Transmogrification through magic assimilation. I took someone else’s body part and had to incorporate it.”

“Incredibly risky, but it clearly paid off. Was it an eye?”

“Yes.”

“Physically they look identical, but the concentration of magic in the left eye is much higher.” Luther nodded and sat back. “Beautiful shade of green. The pain must’ve been excruciating.”

“It was.”

“How long?”

“About two months and then I went into a magically induced coma for another nine.”

“I’m amazed you survived.” Luther leaned forward, his eyes alert. “What possessed you to do a thing like that?”

“Fear.” I reinstated my cloak.

“An excellent motivator. Tell me more.”

“Are you familiar with Moloch?”

“A Canaanite god, the unpleasant kind. Famous for his dominion over fire and a fondness for child sacrifice. As I recall, he prefers his offerings to be burned alive. There is some murky water around the interpretation of the name.”