My battle-hardened Guards nodded their heads. I drew the humid night air into my lungs, turned quickly, and took a few steps toward the street, only to be caught and whirled around. Malachi’s arms wrapped around me, pulling me close.

“You will kill whoever comes at you,” he said fiercely, his breath hot against my cheek. “You will do whatever it takes. But you will not let them take you.”

I put my arms around his neck and held on tight. I knew this was his worst fear, and this wasn’t the first time I’d made him live it.

“I won’t let them take me,” I whispered. “I promise.”

He gave me an iron-edged kiss. “Then I’ll see you when this is over.” He let me go, and I headed for the street before I had a chance to change my mind.

I looped around the block, coming at the club from a completely different direction. From the street, the building appeared completely dark and deserted, except for the smell of incense that permeated the entire area. Broken glass crunched under my boots as I approached the steel front door covered in a thick layer of graffiti. As promised, it wasn’t locked. It swung open easily as soon as I tugged on it. I poked my head in.

The distant spotlights of boats roved the river, and the indirect glow of dock and streetlamps shone through the shattered windows. I stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind me. Like a cold hand on the back of my neck, I suddenly had the worst feeling, like I wouldn’t make it out of this place alive.

I closed my eyes tight and shook my head, begging my thoughts not to turn on me now. Keep walking, Lela. Time to put on a show.

I followed a wide corridor to the main room, and as I walked, that dim, flickering candlelight came into view. A thick pillar candle. Weirdly enough, apricot-scented. Sitting on the U-shaped bar next to the dance floor. The panoramic view of the river, with the water glinting darkly under the stars, was breathtaking.

“You live,” came the choked whisper. I whirled around to see two figures at the edge of the rotting, splintered parquet floor.

My mother. No. The Mazikin who’d taken my mother’s body.

And Sil. The Mazikin who wanted to take everything else.

He grinned as he stroked a hand over my mother’s wild mane. “She told me you were dying. I guess she was wrong.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I haven’t seen you in a very long time, girl. You look better here than you did in the dark city. This is where you belong.”

“It’s the makeup,” I said, gesturing at my face. Tegan was an artist. It hadn’t budged, despite the fact that I’d been savagely attacked and hit by a van.