I duck into a lavatory just as the train passes through the air locks into the City Hall station. I check my phone, and as two service bars appear, a string of messages lights up my screen. Most from school friends who don’t know where I’ve been. I’ll look through them later and use Georgie’s computer to DM the people who deserved better than me dropping them with no explanation. For now I focus on quickly setting up and sending everything the Families need, and then I head back to Georgie.

As I make my way back down the aisle, I’m jostled by a short person in a bat mask as they hurry past me. Weird that they’re already wearing their mask and that it’s opaque black instead of glace. I turn in curiosity to get another look and see an awfully familiar crooked blond braid disappearing into the next train car.

That little minx! I thought Hypatia had given up on her stowaway plans. I change direction to catch up to her, but by the time I pass into the bar car, I’ve lost sight of her in the crowd.

“Excuse me. Excuse me. Pardon.” I make my way through the loud throng. Hypatia is still nowhere to be seen. I head toward the exit to the next car but then I jolt forward, blinded by sudden darkness as the power blinks out and the train comes to a screeching halt.

I hear more than a few cries of pain. I’m not hurt because I’ve collapsed into something solid and warm. A hand steadies me and prevents me from toppling. I instantly know who has caught me by the way my skin flares to life when his hand grazes my exposed back.

Rafe.

It’s clear when he realizes it’s me by the way his body stiffens. He releases me and steps away, and I’m immediately jostled by the panicked swarm. I teeter and try to reach blindly for the ceiling rail, but I’m too short to reach it, and the crush of bodies pushes me to my knees. I let out an inelegant squeal, praying I don’t get trampled.

As the initial panic settles, people start pulling out their spoons to light their torches. Rafe and a few of the other Sires produce flares of Ha’i, illuminating the car with an eerie glow. When Rafe sees me on the floor, he sighs in exasperation and pulls me back up against him. He mutters something that sounds like, “She can’t even stand on her own two feet.”

I ignore the words and breathe in the relief of not having to worry about dying by poorly placed stiletto. “Thanks,” I say to Rafe, and I try to make my own Sire glow, but it keeps winking out.