Luther sighed dramatically and motioned to me. “Lay it on me. I have braced myself.”

“When magic crests at its peak, the King of Fire will leave his citadel of misery in the Western Desert and travel east to devour the queen who doesn’t rule and sever bloodline reborn. Only the one who shares his power may oppose him.”

Luther blinked. “Moloch is going to kill Kate during a flare.”

“Yes. They meet. Kate dies. The world burns and becomes darkness.”

“That is…oddly specific for Sienna.”

“It was a very vivid vision. She had to be sedated afterward.”

“The future isn’t definite, and Sienna sees the most likely probability,” Luther thought out loud. “Are there are other probabilities where Kate survives?”

“So far all of her visions have been the same. If Kate comes into contact with Moloch in any way, they fight, she loses, he kills her. If I come into direct contact with Kate, the vision becomes sharper and clearer.”

“You meeting Kate in person makes her death more likely.”

“Yes.”

Luther pondered me. A long moment passed.

“How old is this prophecy?”

“Four years.”

“And you’ve been trying to fight it and failed?”

I nodded.

“Moloch’s former divine nature is a significant factor, isn’t it?”

I nodded again.

“That’s what I thought.” Luther’s gaze turned dark. “If he were just a human, there would be wiggle room, but he is an avatar, a god made flesh. This isn’t just the most likely version of the future; this is a deity communicating its will and intent through time. This future is incredibly resistant to the change.”

“Yes.”

Luther looked at the ceiling. I could practically feel the gears turning in his mind.

“Does he know of the prophecy?”

“He does. Sienna has touched his mind.”

“Risky. Why Kate?”

“He fears the Shinar. The family has repelled his invasions in the past. He worries about the reunification of Kate and Erra. To his mind, each is a kingdom unto herself and their reach will grow until he is trapped between them. Kate is an easier target than my grandmother.”

“A follow-up question: why you?”

“I don’t know. According to Sienna, I’m the wild card. Perhaps it’s because I’m educated by Shinar but the power of my bloodline is fundamentally different from theirs. He hasn’t fought my ancestors. He doesn’t know what I can do.”

“That seems thin to me.” Luther frowned. He drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair and seemed to come to a decision. “So, you can’t go home.”

“No.”

He leaned back and steepled the fingers of his hands. “Tell me how I can help you.”

I explained the magical artifact, the guardian, and the ma’avirim. “This murder has the same MO as Pastor Haywood’s. I need access and support.”

“That I can do. I will also keep this conversation to myself. Who else knows you are you?”

“My grandmother and Conlan. Kate and Curran haven’t seen me since my face changed.”

“Good,” he said. “Let’s try to keep it that way.”

10

I sat inside Alycia Walton’s office behind her desk. The door was open, and the light from the fey lanterns in the hallway drew a long rectangle across the floor. The rest of the room lay shrouded in gloom, and I sank into it, wrapping myself in it like it was a blanket.

Luther and I had formed an alliance. I would keep him in the loop, and he would allow me unsupervised access to crime scenes I believed were connected. Then a woman from Biohazard had arrived and Luther had to go. PAD and Biohazard finished processing the scene and left too, taking the body with them. Only I remained, waiting.

Moloch’s priests would come. The ma’avirim were fanatically single-minded. It was just a matter of time.

I had to get answers this time. The longer I spun my wheels, the greater was the likelihood that Moloch would murder Kate. Every time I thought about it, my throat tried to clench itself into a fist.

Magic tugged on me, and I sank into Turgan’s vision. The eagle perched at the top of the oak across from the entrance to Bowden Hall. Three people ran across the lawn toward the building, low and fast. One dashed to the entrance, and the two others rounded the corner.

I disconnected. Just what I needed right now.

Faint sounds came from beyond the broken window. A light rustling of the hedge, a scrape against the stone. Three, two, one…

Ascanio jumped through the open window and landed by the rug.

“What, no combat roll?” I asked.

He pivoted to me, his eyes flashing with a ruby glow as they caught the light from the hallway. For a moment he looked ready to pounce, then he straightened, his expression nonchalant.

“You again. We keep meeting like this. It must be fate.”

Oh no, the return of Mr. Smooth. “What is your interest in Pastor Haywood’s murder?”

Ascanio picked up a chair, set it before the desk, flipping it around, and saddled it, his arms resting on the chair’s back. “My interest is private. I may be persuaded to exchange information, but you don’t have the authority to question me.”

“And you don’t have the authority to be here.”

“Neither do you.”

I gave him a small smile. “Actually, I do.”

Ascanio smiled back. “Fine, I’ll play. Says who?”

“Luther Dillion, the Assistant Director of Biohazard.”

Ascanio rested his chin on his arms. “If that’s true, I’m intruding on your crime scene. What’s your plan for removing me?”

Somehow, he managed to make it sound suggestive. “You’re being tiresome.”

“It’s a personal failing. I was told I can also be invigorating under the right circumstances.”

I bet. “Does the Beast Lord know you’re here?”

“This is a clan matter.”

He had Andrea’s and Raphael’s blessing and was confident that they would back him up if things went bad. “Why does Clan Bouda care about these murders?”

“You’re still not trading. How about this, I’ll tell you mine, if you tell me yours?”