“My Ada.” Kor shakes his head. “Who will do it if not me?” He gestures at his abdomen. “I’ve already damned my soul by drinking the lifeblood of others. And despite that, I’m still probably not long for this world. But before I’m gone, I’ll make a difference.” He raises his arms and looks up at the sky, his long hair whipping in the wind. “The Grand Master chose me for this, and God prepared me for it. I am ready to do what I have to do to save the world—” He stops talking and grasps for his cross, his eyes glowing in rapture.

But when I follow his gaze, I realize it’s not his words that have excited him. Rather, it is two sets of beautiful wings. One belonging to a Valkyrie with copper hair—looking like Kor’s angel painting come to life—and one to a wind horse with a statuesque rider.

Kaylie, Peggy, and Rafe are flying down the cliffside. I’m not alone after all.

Kaylie touches down on the beach, her wings spread wide, her face fierce and beautiful. Kor stares at her with awe and raw adoration.

Rafe dismounts from Peggy a few yards away. He has a magneto gun in one hand and a blade in the other. The heat of Ha’i rises off him like a boiling pot.

Kor looks back and forth between Rafe and Kaylie, then calls toward the hatch, “Backup!”

Rafe speaks. “If you turn over your weapons and allow me to restrain you and your comrades, I will protect you from harm and escort you to speak to the Council.”

“I didn’t come here to be arrested,” Kor says, coolly raising a gun and pointing it at Rafe.

“That isn’t necessary!” I step forward, panic in my voice.

Alfie and Roman make their way out of the hatch and onto the beach. Roman is armed but looks nervous. He stares wide-eyed at the sight of a Valkyrie and a wind horse, and he crosses himself. Alfie is holding a canister with a spray hose that must be the antimatter gas. He aims the nozzle like a weapon. There may not be mist down here, but if he sprays the gas and it does what we expect, it could seriously harm Kaylie and Peggy, and Rafe and I would lose our Sire advantages.

“Don’t—” I start to say at the same time as Rafe moves to intercept Alfie.

Kor cocks his gun.

“No! Kor, can’t we—”

And then he shoots.

I hear the crack of the bullet. Then silence.

Someone far away starts screaming.

No, not far away. It’s me. I’m screaming.

But the rest of my body is frozen. All I can do is stare as a red flower unfurls its petals on the left side of Rafe’s chest. Like a boutonniere.

He looks so dashing, ready for a dance.