Finding a personal item of Zayne’s wasn’t exactly easy since he didn’t have a lot of personal items outside of the bare necessities. I didn’t want to take his toothbrush or comb since I had to bleed all over it and dump only God knew what on top of it, so I opted for one of his unwashed gray shirts I’d been planning to sleep in again. It still smelled like him, and I stood there holding it to my face for a probably disturbing amount of time.

The hours dragged by and by, and I couldn’t wait around any longer. Cayman had ordered up a car for me, and I headed to Rock Creek Park. That was where I spent the last hour or so, claiming ownership of the bench, his shirt and the vial close to my thudding heart.

It will be okay.

It will be okay.

I kept repeating that, over and over, while I stared at the empty walking path. I had no idea what kind of strings the Wardens had pulled, but the last person I’d seen had been at least forty-some minutes ago. I guessed it was a small blessing that I had this to stress over so I wasn’t obsessing over, well, everything else. I looked up at the gradually darkening sky, and my chest tightened.

The reminder I set on my phone dinged, letting me know it was one minute till sunset.

Jumping from the bench, I hurried to the grassy area behind it. Carefully, I placed Zayne’s shirt on the ground beside the vial. I knelt, unsheathing the dagger. With my hand above his shirt, I placed the dagger against my palm. My heart was pounding. Both my hands were shaking.

This will work.

This will work.

This will work.

The second reminder went off from my phone. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation as the sky above me turned to the deepest, darkest blue. I sliced the blade along my palm. A hiss of pain escaped me as bright red blood bubbled and welled. Squeezing my hand into a fist as I sheathed my dagger, I lowered my palm and opened my hand. I dragged it across his shirt, smearing the cotton with blood.

Snatching up the vial, I popped the lid off and tilted the bottle over the same spot my blood marked Zayne’s shirt as I prayed Zayne wasn’t playing creeping stalker and watching me.

Which was something I hadn’t even considered until now.

Too late to worry about that, I supposed.

The golden liquid poured over the shirt. It wasn’t a lot, and the smoke leaked out next, glittering like dozens of fireflies as it drifted slowly to the shirt.

A bolt of light flashed from the shirt, whipping out faster than I could track. Dropping the vial, I rose as the gold light raced to form a circle.