Persephone had learned a lot about oracles from Sybil. They might hear prophecies, but they heard them the way they said them. How it was interpreted was up to the one who received it.

Persephone chose to interpret this as—there’s no other way, and so she left for Iniquity.

She tamped down the anxiety that flared in her stomach when she told the driver her destination. He glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. The name clearly made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded and took off into the night.

Persephone settled into the backseat and checked her phone.

It was a habit because she used to talk to Lexa all the time, but there were no new messages—none from Lexa, no updates from Jaison or Lexa’s mother, nothing.

She spent the ride reading through previous text messages from Lexa and by the time the cab stopped, her eyes were watery and her throat thick with tears. The emotion was motivating. It made it easier to swallow her guilt and look out the window.

The car had stopped in front of a plain, brick building. The name was nowhere to be found on the exterior.

She hesitated before exiting.

“Is this...the right place?” she asked.

“You said Iniquity, right?” the driver asked, he pointed to the building. “That’s it.”

She left the cab and stood outside alone, unnerved by the quiet. She had expected a crowd similar to Nevernight even though Leuce had made it clear Iniquity was different. It was invitation-only—exclusive to the underbelly of society. She shivered and started down the alleyway. The taxi driver had dropped her off at the front of the building, but Leuce had been clear in her instructions: the entrance is in the back, down the stairs, knock once.

She headed down a dimly lit alleyway and found the door. She did as she was instructed and a slot in the door opened. She jumped but couldn’t see anything through the opening. It took her a moment to remember her password.

“Parabasis,” she said.

The word shivered through her whole body, its meaning shaking her foundation.

To intentionally cross a line.

She knew that’s what she was doing, but she had to try.

Lexa needed her—she needed Lexa.

Whoever was on the other side of the door closed the slot and opened the door. Hesitantly, she entered the club. Like Nevernight, she stepped into complete darkness. Whoever occupied the space with her was not visible, but she felt them.