“You’re not one of theirs. I know what you are. And the Brotherhood will soon find it out.”

He turned, slipping silently into one of the alleys.

With a shaking hand, she lowered the dust.

Chapter 2

Rosalind stepped out of the steamy shower, drying her dark hair with a towel. Josiah had been frantically texting her about meeting in the library for a post-mortem, but she wanted to stop by her residence hall first. The encounter with the mage had left her nerves ravaged.

Plus, it was kind of hard to rush to a work meeting when you knew you were about to get fired.

She slipped into a pair of jeans and a low-cut white shirt. The right outfit wasn’t enough to get her out of this mess, but it couldn’t hurt. She’d chosen her clothes strategically: the white represented purity—Josiah seemed turned on by that, and the low-cut top was just revealing enough to distract him with her cleavage. Only her weapon belt, complete with a loaded gun, ruined the sleek lines of her outfit. But there was no way she was leaving home without it.

She slid her knee-high boots on over her jeans. The iron-lined toes would come in handy if she saw the mage again.

As she leaned closer to the mirror, she pinched her cheeks, bringing out a blush, before glancing at the faint, white scars on her neck. The redcap’s attack had been a very close call. She should be happy to be alive at all. Still, she couldn’t shake the crushing disappointment of her failed kill.

Maybe she could persuade Josiah to bend the rules a little, to keep her on as a Hunter. She’d been born for this. Granted, she panicked when confronted with actual demons, but she’d get better if they gave her a chance.

She gathered up her hunting clothes and pushed through the bathroom door. The mage’s terrifying warning—whatever he’d meant by it—whispered through her skull. As she walked through the hall, she blinked back tears, trying not to imagine the worst case scenario: exile from the Brotherhood.

She pushed open the door of her cramped dorm room.

Her roommate, Tammi, lay on her bed, playing music through her iPhone. As soon as she saw Rosalind, she yanked out her headphones.

“Rosalind!” Beaming, Tammi flipped her long, blonde hair behind her shoulders. As she took in Rosalind’s grim expression, the smile quickly faded from her face. “What’s going on? You look like you’re about to cry. Is this about Josiah?”

“Sort of.” She dropped her clothes on her bed. “I actually have to go meet him in Harvard Square to talk about some stuff.”

Tammi crinkled her brow. “What stuff? Is this one of those conversations where you have to sit there and listen to him rehash all the reasons he dumped you? Because I would skip that if I were you.”

“No. It’s work-related, but probably just as painful.”

“Oh, right. Your mysterious job that no one is allowed to know about.”