This would be a homecoming, and not an altogether good one. I’d come face-to-face with Logan Hill only a few months ago. And even though the university was barely a mile from the House, I hadn’t so much as walked into the library where I’d spent so many nights a single time since my attack. I hadn’t talked to my professors, my advisers. Hadn’t talked to my friends in the English department. I’d needed a clean break.

That didn’t keep guilt from forming a hard, cold weight in my chest.

The man, tall and thin, with dark skin and short hair, was waiting in front of the library’s entrance, its imposing concrete walls rising on either side of us. “Merit,” he said with a smile. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, Pax.”

Paxton Leonard hadn’t been a colleague; not exactly. He’d been a gatekeeper, one of the few men and women trusted with the literal keys to the most precious documents at the University of Chicago. I’d spent enough time in the center reviewing manuscripts for my dissertation that we’d become friendly.

He reached out, and we exchanged an awkward hug. “You don’t call. You don’t write.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”

“Not that we did any better.” He paused. “We felt . . . awkward about it.”

I nodded. “Me, too.”

“But we’ve kept up with you—watched the news. You’ve come quite a long way. From books to swords.”

“It wasn’t a transition I figured I’d ever have to make,” I said, and let a smile touch my lips. “But it kind of worked out.”

He smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“How’s your family?”

“Good!” he said with a bright smile. “Mom and Howard finally tied the knot.”

“Oh my God! When?”

“In June,” he said with a grin. “He kept asking, and she finally said yes.” He leaned forward conspiratorially. “Said she went to Dad’s grave, talked to him about it, finally got his approval, so she felt okay about it again. And Amanda finished her first year of medical school.”

“That’s great, Pax.”

“Thanks, Merit.” Then he waved it away. “I know you’re in a rush, so let’s get going.” He fished keys from his pocket. “Hell of a lot easier to get into a library when you’re the only person left in Chicago.”

He unlocked the door, and I slipped inside behind him. The library smelled, as it always had, of paper. Books, maps, notebooks, manuscripts. Including the one I needed to see.

“You want to tell me why we’re doing this?” he asked, when he’d pressed buttons on the alarm and we’d moved into the elevator.

“I want to look at the Danzig Manuscript foldouts.”

His dark eyebrows lifted. “The Danzig Manuscript? Why? That’s just mumbo jumbo.”

“It’s not mumbo jumbo. It’s real, and it’s encrypted. Magic rearranges the letters.”

He blinked. “You’re serious?”

I nodded. “I absolutely am. Long story short, we think Sorcha’s using the Danzig Manuscript as a kind of magical guidebook. And if you can help me get it, I can introduce you to the woman who figured it out.” I grinned at him. “And you two can write up her groundbreaking discovery.”

The light in his eyes was very familiar—the excitement of academic discovery.

“Merit, you have a deal,” he said, and swept out a regal hand when the elevator door opened again.

Unfortunately, the deal had limits. He didn’t allow me into the space where the documents were kept. So I waited impatiently, pacing the center’s hallway while he found the pages.

Finally, he came back with a large box of cream paperboard, which he carried to a table. He pulled cotton gloves from his pocket, slid them on, and lifted the box’s lid.

Inside, nestled in undoubtedly archival tissue paper, were several folded sheaths of cream paper. “The Danzig Manuscript foldouts,” he said. “As you requested.”

I smiled. He’d said those words—or words like them—many times during my tenure here, and probably many times since.

“I don’t suppose you’ll let me copy these.”

“Hell no,” he said. “Don’t want to expose them to that kind of light.” But he smiled and pointed to a small room. “But we can digitize and print them. They’re in line anyway, so I’m really doing the university a favor.”

That was good enough for me.

• • •

Ethan was pacing the office when I walked in, the rest of the crew settled around the conference table, looking through manuscript pages. He turned toward the doorway at the sight of me, and relief flooded him.

He strode toward me. You should have told me where you were going.

I nodded. I know. But I was afraid I’d lose my nerve.

He smiled, pushed hair behind my ear. And did you?

I held up the folder, smiled cockily. I did not.

“You got them?” Mallory asked, coming toward me.

“All forty, just in case.” I handed her the folder. “I haven’t even looked at them yet—just rushed there and back. And when this is all said and done, you have a rendezvous with a research librarian.”

She smiled. “Did you set me up on an academic date?”

“I did. You’ll like Pax.”

“Just don’t like him too much,” Catcher said from the conference table.

She clutched the folder to her chest. “Never fear, Mr. Bell,” she said, squeezing my arm before heading back to the table. “Good job, vampire.”

“Thank you, witch.” I looked back at Ethan. “I should probably go get dressed.” I was still in jeans, and I’d need something a lot more substantial for tonight’s events.

Ethan checked his watch. “You’ve got twenty minutes.”

Immortals with so little time. Wasn’t that ironic?

• • •

I opted for my leathers. Good boots. Hair in a ponytail, to keep it out of my face. My dagger tucked into my boot, my katana belted around my waist. My wedding ring was a new weight on my hand, and I looked down at it in the mirror, smiled at the gleam of metal, the reminder of my grandmother. The reminder of family, and things worth protecting. It was time to do a little protecting of my own, and this time with my family by my side. Or the supernatural members of it, anyway.

I walked downstairs, found Ethan at his desk, Mallory and Catcher at the table. There was a faint buzz of magic in the room, which I hoped was a good sign.

Ethan was on his phone, nodding. “Thank you,” he said after a moment, and put it down again. He looked up, looked me over. “Well, Sentinel. You look fierce.”

“I am fierce,” I said. “Do I look ready to take on a crazed and possibly magic-addicted sorceress?”

He cocked his head, gave me a serious appraisal. “Absolutely. Although you may want to work on a ferocious scowl.”

I gave him a look. “How’s this one?”

“Keep working on it,” he said, then rose, walked around his desk, tipped up my chin with a finger, gazed at me carefully. You’re okay?

I’m fine, I promised him. I’ll be better when she’s wrapped up. Who was on the phone?

He leaned back against the desk, crossed his arms, smiled. “It was Morgan, my nosy Sentinel. He’s offered whatever help we need.”

“Good,” I said with a nod. “What did you tell him?”

“He’ll put a dozen vampires in Grant Park, just in case. Another dozen vampires here, just in case.” Ethan smiled. “And he’s going to be with them, sword in hand.”

“Good boy,” I said. “He may make a decent Master after all.”

“Fingers crossed,” Ethan said. “Were you able to find a boat?”

He hadn’t known that I’d meant to ask Jonah—and didn’t know where the Red Guard’s HQ was—but there was still a gleam in his eye.

I shook my head. “Couldn’t connect. Unless I get a quick response, we’re going to be boatless.”