A vampire had once told me that my hair shimmered like white gold in the moonlight. He’d also mentioned that there was something about it that mesmerized vampires. And he was right. Most vampires who saw it were hit with an irresistible urge to touch it, which would inevitably lead to them trying to use my neck as a chew toy. I guess I was lucky that Mark hadn’t been as affected as these fellows here.

“You’d best be moving along,” Calli said, stepping between me and the vampires.

The vampires blinked down hard a few times, shaking free of whatever trance they’d been in.

“No offense intended, ma’am,” one of the vampires said to Calli.

They all bowed, then continued on their way, careful to divert their eyes from me. Smart. The Legion of Angels didn’t intervene in minor affairs of the human world, but as soon as supernaturals stopped playing by the rules, they came down with an iron fist. Vampires feeding on people without their permission was one of those rules. Luckily for the vampires, there were more than enough people who wanted to be fed on. Those vampire groupies didn’t realize that behind every one of those perfect faces lay a monster, just waiting to come unhinged—and a hunger deep within that could never be satiated. That was the ugly side of the beautiful vampires. And it was shocking how quickly things could get ugly.

My pulse still pounding from that close call with the vampires, I put on a tough face and followed behind Calli. Bella reached over and squeezed my hand.

“Maybe I should start wearing a hat,” I whispered.

“I wonder what it is about your hair that attracts them,” she whispered back.

I winked at her. “Vampires like blondes.”

“No, it isn’t that. It’s something…magical, I think.”

Maybe she was right. Maybe this was my magic ability: to be catnip for vampires. As far as magical abilities went, it really kind of sucked. Why couldn’t I shoot fire out of my hands instead? That was at least useful. It was at least a real gift. Being irresistible to blood-sucking vampires was nothing but a curse.

We waited while Calli had Bella’s bags sent ahead to the university. She put Gin and Tessa in a cab next and sent them to an old friend back from her days of working for the League, the world’s largest bounty-hunting company. The girls pleaded and whined, but Calli didn’t bend. For good reason too. Where we were headed was no place for them.

So Calli, Bella, and I headed away from the train station. After a few blocks, the brightly-lit modern facades gave way to darker, dirtier buildings and streets. There, in the middle of the city’s red light district, we found Rose’s shop.

A flashy sign—one of a crystal ball with pink smoke coming out of it—advertised psychic readings. It blinked and buzzed in a rapid, almost dizzying rhythm, winding up my senses so tightly that I had to look away. I concentrated on the door instead. An odd symbol—that of an opening flower with looping, never-ending layers—was painted on the wood. But that’s not what I was looking at.

I was looking at the door itself. It was partially open. Calli frowned, pushing it further open. We followed her inside.

Furniture was overturned all around the room, like there had been a fight. Blood was everywhere—on the carpets, the walls, dripping down the purple satin tablecloth of the round table with the crystal ball. And amongst all the chaos, a woman lay in a pool of her own blood.

4

Ghosts

Rose was alive. But just barely. As Bella tried to revive her with a tincture, I turned to Calli.

“Whoever did this knew you knew her. And knew we’d be coming,” I said. “Zane’s kidnapping and this are linked.”

“You know what I always say about coincidences.”

I nodded. “That they don’t exist. Not in our world. Not after all that we’ve seen. There is always someone pulling the strings. This isn’t a coincidence; it’s a full-on conspiracy.”

“Someone wants Zane,” Calli declared. “And that someone doesn’t want us to find him.”

“But how did this someone know you know Rose?”

Calli frowned, cursing something about dark angels under her breath. The messengers of hell had eyes everywhere. Ears everywhere.

“She’s regaining consciousness,” Bella told us. “But she doesn’t have long. Her injuries are beyond medicine or magic, at least any we have at our disposal.”

Calli looked down. Bella had wrapped a blanket around Rose, and she was holding her hand.

“Can we move her to the witches hospital?” Calli asked.

“She wouldn’t survive the trip,” Bella said.

I squatted down beside Rose. The telepath was blinking back into consciousness with obvious reluctance. She looked like she’d rather we hadn’t woken her before death. One glance at her injuries was all it took to understand why. Rose hadn’t just been attacked; she’d been completely brutalized. Her ribs were broken, her legs dangling at unnatural angles. Deep lacerations covered her chest and midsection, and there was a noticeable gash in her head. Whoever had done this, they hadn’t wanted her to survive.

“It’s a wonder she’s still alive now.” Bella’s voice cracked.

“The killer must have just left,” Calli said.

Rose coughed out a wet laugh. “The bastard didn’t take into account my resilience. I’m tough.”

“Who was it?” Calli asked her, taking her other hand.

“A dark angel. I didn’t see much of him. He was in the shadows. But I felt his magic. Hell-bending, end-of-the-world magic.”