“... are asked to keep 911 calls to life-threatening emergencies,” the professional woman said as she stood outside Cincinnati’s main city building. “Suncides will receive faster responses using the number at the bottom of the screen.” She took a breath, eyes flicking past the camera to track the sound of a passing siren. “Impromptu meetings across the U.S. in major population centers continue to search for ways to cope and hopefully stem the unprecedented numbers of vampiric suncides linked to soul reunions.”

I winced as the woman was replaced by a shot of Edden, David, and Mrs. Sarong going into the very same building, their heads down to avoid the press. It was dark, clearly before sunrise, and I gave Trent’s hand a squeeze under the table.

“But it’s here in our own Cincinnati that all are watching, as former U.S. president Rynn Cormel meets with various members of the scientific and religious community who flew in earlier today from all points with the intent of developing an end solution to this tragedy.”

My hand slipped from Trent’s as he stood. “Excuse me,” he said, eyes down. “I think our drinks are up. Rachel, you sure you don’t want a muffin or something?”

I shook my head. It was too early to eat.

“Living vampires are demanding a removal of the free-roaming undead souls that some are beginning to refer to as surface demons in the wake of the destruction they cause. Experts are advising the living to check on their undead and protect them from unnecessary surface travel. If a loved one does find their soul, they’re advised not to leave them unattended.”

Jenks’s wings clattered, and I followed his gaze to Trent weaving his way to the pickup counter. The coffee wasn’t up. He just didn’t want to hear any more, depressed that his voice was being ignored and that he was forced to work from secondhand information.

Jenks silently flew after him, startling the man when he landed on his shoulder. Ivy sighed and closed her laptop. Eyes red-rimmed from fatigue, she leaned back into her chair and nursed her sweet coffee. “The news is circling now,” she said softly. “Nothing new.”

Circling like the thoughts of the undead, I mused, brow furrowed when I remembered that’s how mystics saw them—little lights in the dark that never changed. “You look tired,” I said, and her eyes flicked to me.

“Didn’t get much sleep. Did you stop at the church on your way in?”

My gaze dropped. “No, I’m afraid to.” I wanted to know if she still had her soul bottle. I hadn’t seen it, but it was small enough to easily fit in a pocket. “How’s Nina?”