During the day, sunlight streamed through an oculus onto the lecture stage, illuminating the Guardians with pure white light. But now only pale moonlight lit the interior.

Her footsteps echoed, and she scanned the stone benches for her Guardian. For most, he’d be hard to pick out at all, but she was an expert at spotting tiny movements in the dark, and the slow rise and fall of his enormous chest drew her eye. As she caught sight of him, her heart quickened.

“Rosalind.” His voice boomed through the hall. “I’ve been waiting for twenty-seven minutes. You’re late.”

“Sorry. I wanted to figure out what the hell I wanted to say to you.”

He splayed his fingers. “How about the truth?”

He was definitely pissed.

She climbed the stairs, taking in his huge form, nearly as imposing as the Great Hall. The guy could deadlift five hundred pounds. She was still working on three hundred. Let’s just say I never want to get on Josiah’s bad side.

As she approached, he fixed her with one of his stony stares. “What happened? I’ve been worried sick.”

“I’m fine.” She sat next to him on the bench, its cold surface chilling her through her clothes. “But there was a complication.”

He leaned in, his dark eyes intense. “Tell me.”

“The redcap is dead, but I saw a shadow mage. He interfered. Technically, he’s the one who killed the redcap. And he healed my neck wounds.”

“Your neck what? Seven hells, Rosalind.” He flicked on a small flashlight and inspected her skin. His face hardened. “You let a demon bite you. And then you let a shadow mage cast a healing spell. I’m going to have to purify you of any magical residue. Why did you allow that to happen? I’ve seen you fight. You hesitated, didn’t you?”

He knows me too well. “The redcap looked human. I saw fear in his eyes.”

“Need I remind you what demons have done to human kind? What they did to your birth parents?”

“You don’t need to remind me. I think about it every day.” It was something she and Josiah had in common. Vampires had slaughtered both their parents. But in Josiah’s case, he could remember the event vividly. His trauma could make him a little intense on the subject.

“If given half the chance, that redcap would’ve chained you up in a dungeon. Demons don’t have souls. They’re pure predators. As a Hunter, if you hesitate, you die. You’re lucky to be alive right now.”

She hid her face with her hands. Her low-cut top wasn’t working at all. “I know all this.”

He pulled out his phone, flipping through his photos before shoving a gruesome picture in her face: a young man lying on the pavement, most of his neck missing. “This is what your redcap did yesterday, a few days after he killed the cashiers. The victim’s name was Perry. A writer—recently engaged and planning his wedding. His fiancée lost her mind when we delivered the news.”