He nods automatically, and his expression doesn’t change. “A group of Syndicate enforcers are due to arrive in Chicago tonight, and … there’s going to be more of them than I was told to expect. According to Hecuba, the Syndics are breaking into unofficial factions—and to be perfectly honest, I’m afraid of what’s coming.”

“You’re not the only one.” My voice cracks, because of course it fucking does. I still can’t believe a guy like this actually kissed me on purpose. “Um … I kind of need to do something a little invasive? And I hope it’s cool with you. Because it’s non-negotiable.”

It’s another thing I’m not even sure I can do until I’m actually doing it. Just like the web of time that Brixia described, Jude’s memory is a complicated structure being built a strand at a time; with a bit of care and focus, I detach just the right ones. By the time he leaves this apartment, he won’t recall where it is or how he got here—and if he tries to send any telepathic messages to vampires in his lineage, I’ll overhear it. I think I trust him … but the less he knows, the less he can be forced to divulge later.

Just as I’m finishing up, that sensation prickles my skin again, and the air is suddenly scented with mint and linen—Gunnar is here. When I let him inside, he and Jude eye each other awkwardly, and the air thickens with their confused emotions. It’s a conversation I can’t help overhearing, a loud mix of hurt, longing, and resentful lust.

“Auggie?” Gunnar slides me a wary look, tousled hair falling in his face. The feelings he has for me are equally palpable, and I try not to blush as I register them. “I’m kind of afraid to ask what’s going on. Is this your safe house?”

I mumble a yes noise, once again choosing to elide the details. “Thanks for coming. I brought you guys here because you both promised to help me at one point, and I … well, whatever chips I’ve got, I’m cashing them all in.”

“Oh.” Gunnar takes a seat on the sofa, and I catch myself staring at his legs. What is it with me and leg parts? “This doesn’t have anything to do with all the Syndicate foot soldiers coming to town, does it?”

Jude starts visibly. “How did you—” He catches himself, his expression tightening, and he narrows his eyes. “Why is August wearing your necklace?”

“Because I gave it to him.” Gunnar’s tone drips with smug satisfaction.