I looked into the little scanner. Red light swept across my retina; a second later, the locks tumbled and the door slid silently open. The smell of roses hit almost immediately and my nose wrinkled. I might be half Aedh and half Helki werewolf—with little in the way of true wolf capabilities—but I did have a wolf’s sensitive olfactory sense, which was why I didn’t often wear perfume.

This wasn’t perfume, however. It was far too strong.

I shrugged off my backpack and jacket, tossing both onto the nearest leather sofa as I walked across the huge, carpeted expanse that was our living room. The fans—big industrial things that went with the vaulted, metal-framed ceiling—were on full, creating a wind strong enough to tug the hair out of my ponytail. It said a lot about the strength of the rose scent that the fans weren’t shifting it.

Gentle humming drifted from the kitchen, accompanied by the clink of metal against glass. I shook my head, knowing that sound—and that song—all too well. Ilianna was brewing potions in the kitchen again.

I stopped in the doorway, crossing my arms as I leaned a shoulder against the frame. Ilianna—a tall, strapping woman with a thick mane of pale hair and dark golden skin—stood near the stove, scooping out the contents of a bubbling pot and pouring it into long, thin, lilac-colored bottles.

“So what is it this time?” I asked, amusement in my voice. “A potion for the lovelorn, or the promise of passion?”

“Neither,” she said, her voice low and sexy—the sort of voice that would make her a fortune if she ever decided to go into the phone-sex business. “We’re off to the Healesville market this weekend. They love the harmony and peace potions up there, so I need to stock up.”

They loved them because the damn things worked. I briefly touched the simple leather strap that held the charm currently nestled between my br**sts. I’d been sixteen when she’d finally convinced me that I couldn’t continue to walk the gray fields unaided. The charm she’d made me had been little more than a small piece of petrified wood, to connect me to the earth, and two small agate and serpentine stones for protection, but it had still saved my life when a spirit had attacked me on the gray fields. I’d been wearing it ever since.

“Is this the last of the lot?”

“Yes.” She glanced at me then, her green eyes startling against the dark gold of her skin. “Sorry about the smell. I thought you’d be off to the hospital already.”

I smiled. Not only was Ilianna a powerful witch, but she—like my mom, and sometimes like me—was clairvoyant. We’d all met at a school that had catered strictly to the offspring of rich nonhumans, and Ilianna, Tao, and I had been the misfits—the strange kids who could do things we shouldn’t have been able to. Tao and I had the additional stigma of being half-breeds—although at least both he and Ilianna were able to take on their alternative forms. Alone we’d been vulnerable, but together we’d been safe. So the three of us had stayed together all through school and into our working lives. I couldn’t actually imagine my life without Ilianna or Tao.

“Visiting hours don’t start until eight. I thought I’d come home to shower and change first.”

She nodded and returned her attention to her bottling. The rose scent sharpened every time she dipped the ladle into the bubbling mixture, perfuming the air with not only its scent but also an odd sense of tranquility.

“A parcel came for you last night,” she said. “The delivery guy was a little weird.”

My eyebrows rose. “Weird how?”

She glanced briefly at me, nose wrinkling. “He reminded me of a rat. You know, beady-eyed and furtive.”

I laughed. “Maybe he was a rat.” There were rat shifters, after all—even if they tended to keep to themselves rather than mix with other shifters and humans, like most nonhumans did.

“Yeah, I know, but he didn’t feel like a shifter. He felt like something else. Something more.” She shrugged, as if it didn’t matter, but the mere fact that she’d mentioned it suggested otherwise.

“Was the security system on?”

She gave me a look, and I knew that was a dumb question. If Ilianna was home alone, then the security system was on.

“I’ll check him out.” Although I wasn’t entirely sure what good it would do. Rat-faced or not, he’d come and gone. “Is the parcel that cookbook I ordered for Tao?”

“I didn’t open it, but it looks like it. It’s the right shape. I left it on your dresser.” She dropped the ladle into the pot, then reached for the bag of corks on the shelf above her head. “I ordered the cake. It should be here for dinner tomorrow.” She paused, then looked over her shoulder at me. “Make sure you are.”

I frowned, an odd sense of tension tightening my limbs. “It’s Tao’s birthday. You know I wouldn’t miss that.”

And yet she was warning me not to. Which meant she’d sensed something on the wind. Something that meant trouble.

The image of the sword-carrying reaper rose like a ghost, and I shivered.

“I know. It’s just—” She paused and shrugged.

“Ilianna, just spit it out. What are you seeing?”

“I’m not seeing anything, that’s the trouble.” She glanced at me again, her expression concerned. “I’m just sensing an unease in the air. Something is brewing, Ris, and it’s going to hit us hard if we’re not careful.”

Then we’ll be careful, I wanted to say, but I resisted the impulse. It was too flippant, and I’d known Ilianna too long to treat her warnings that lightly.

“Then maybe you need to start working on some more protection charms,” I said. “Better to be safe than sorry.”

She nodded. “Next on the list. Not that Tao will want anything to do with them.”

But only because Tao believed he was more than able to protect himself. And given that he—like his human mother—was a fire-starter of incredible strength, he was probably right. I pushed away from the door frame. “Is Mirri coming over tomorrow night?”

Mirri was Ilianna’s lover, a mare she’d met at some creativity and love festival she’d gone to a year ago. She wasn’t a witch in the sense that Ilianna was, but she was a pagan. And like many mares, she was bisexual, whereas Ilianna was desperately trying to keep the fact she was a lesbian under wraps. Especially from her family.

“No. She’s working night shifts at the moment.”

I nodded. Mirri was a midwife, and was currently working in the Royal Women’s natural birthing center. “Do you know that Tao is hoping to seduce her if you two ever break up?”

Ilianna laughed—a deep, throaty sound that tugged a smile across my lips. “I know. He’s hopeless when it comes to women. I seriously doubt if there’s been one he hasn’t lusted after.”

“He’s not so hopeless when it comes to seduction, let me tell you.” The man, quite literally, was dyn**ite. In bed and out.

She quirked an eyebrow, her amusement evident. “I thought you’d stopped going down that path.”

“I have. Sort of.”

“Meaning that when your date book is empty and you’re feeling horny, he’s more than ready to float your boat?” She shook her head. “How can a woman who looks as hot as you not have a man around to cater to her more earthy needs? What is wrong with the men of this city?”

“This is a question I ask myself constantly.” I grabbed a mandarin from the fruit basket and began peeling it. I actually wanted something more substantial than fruit, but given the task I’d soon be facing, I wasn’t sure my stomach was up to it. “Have you got that meeting with Mike this afternoon?”

Mike was our accountant and a good friend of my mom’s, having handled her considerable finances for well over twenty years. He was also, as far as I could tell, her lover—although that was a passion both of them kept well hidden. I was pretty sure the desire for secrecy was coming from Mike rather than Mom, because she never hid anything from me, not even her lovers. But I’d never questioned her about it, simply because it was her life and her decision. That hadn’t stopped me from asking Aunt Riley, but she was as in the dark about it as I was.

“Yeah, Tao’s going to cover the first part of my shift.” She glanced at me again. “If you want a shower, you’d better go. The water will shut off in ten minutes.”

My eyes widened as I popped a slice of mandarin into my mouth, and she smiled. “A car’s about to hit a hydrant and the water will have to be shut off temporarily. But don’t worry, no one gets hurt.”

“Damn, it’s handy having a witch as a best friend. Thanks.”

She nodded and started her humming again, happily corking her pretty bottles of harmony potion. I spun on my heel, eating the rest of the mandarin as I headed for my bathroom. We each had our own and, like all the other rooms in this place, they were oversized, with each one containing a massive spa bath, a double walk-in shower, and a big basin. In mine, the oversized white wall tiles contrasted sharply against the warm black slate under my feet. I stripped off, dumping my clothes into the chute that would suck them down into the auto washer-dryer system we’d installed a few months ago.

Mod cons are us, I thought with a smile as I stepped into the shower and the water automatically came on at just the right temperature. Sometimes, there were benefits to being obscenely rich, and one of those was never having to battle with the water temperature or do the laundry. I hated washing and ironing—something I’d picked up from my aunt, according to my mom. Of course, she also blamed Riley for my Coca-Cola addiction, but I honestly think I was born with that. I liked to joke that if I cut one of my veins open, it’d bleed fizzy brown liquid rather than blood.

Once I’d showered, dried, and brushed my hair, I padded into my bedroom. Again it was huge, but it didn’t really look it, thanks to the rich violet on the walls. According to Ilianna, purple was a comforting and a spiritual color—one that generated mystery and tuned intuition. I’d picked it simply because I loved the color. It matched my eyes and contrasted wonderfully with my silver-blond hair.

I walked into the wardrobe and got dressed, donning faded, well-worn jeans and a wool sweater as well as grabbing spares to wear later, knowing I’d have to change once I left the hospital. The smell of the dead and the dying always seemed to cling to my clothing.

I slipped on my boots, then grabbed my watch from the bedside table and glanced at the time. It wasn’t much after seven, but if I took the long way around to the Children’s, I’d probably get there a little after seven thirty. I might be able to get in to see the little girl then.

Better to try to get it over with than to sit here and fret, anyway.

I spun around and grabbed my backpack, shoving my spare clothes inside. Once I’d pulled on my jacket, I slung the pack across my back, then yelled, “I’m off. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

“No, you won’t,” she said. “But I’ll tell Tao to have a Coke and burger ready for you when you do get home.”

Meaning she saw frustration in my future, because burgers were my food of choice when something was really pissing me off.

I grabbed my keys and headed back down to my bike. The morning traffic was rising toward its peak, so by taking the long way around the city, I actually arrived at the hospital close to eight. I parked in the nearby underground lot, then checked Mom’s text, grabbing the ward number and the parents’ names before heading inside.

It hit me in the foyer.

The dead, the dying, and the diseased created a veil of misery and pain that permeated not only the air but the very foundations of the building. It felt like a ton of bricks as it settled across my shoulders, and it was a weight that made my back hunch, my knees buckle, and my breath stutter to a momentary halt.

Not that I really wanted to breathe. I didn’t want to take that scent—that wash of despair and loss—into myself. And most especially, I didn’t want to see the reapers and the tiny souls they were carrying away.

I was gripped by the sudden urge to run, and it was so fierce and strong that my whole body shook. I had to clench my fists against it and force my feet onward. I’d promised Mom I’d do this, and I couldn’t go back on my promise. No matter how much I might want to.

I walked into the elevator and punched the floor for intensive care, then watched as the doors closed and the floor numbers slowly rolled by. As they opened onto my floor, a reaper walked by. She had brown eyes and a face you couldn’t help but trust, and her wings shone white, tipped with gold.

An angel—the sort depicted throughout religion, not those that inhabited the real world. Walking beside her, her tiny hand held within the angel’s, was a child. I briefly closed my eyes against the sting of tears. When I opened them again, the reaper and her soul were gone.

I took the right-hand corridor. A nurse looked up as I approached the desk. “May I help you?”

“I’m here to see Hanna Kingston.”

She hesitated, looking me up and down. “Are you family?”

“No, but her parents asked me to come. I’m Risa Jones.”

“Oh,” she said, then her eyes widened slightly as the name registered. “The daughter of Dia Jones?”

I nodded. People might not know me, but thanks to the fact that many of her clients were celebrities, they sure knew Mom. “Mrs. Kingston is a client. She asked for me specifically.”

“I’m sorry, but I’ll have to check.”

I nodded again, watching as she rose and walked through the door that separated the reception area from the intensive care wards. Down that bright hall, a shrouded gray figure waited. Another reaper. Another soul about to pass.