“Is there a way to see inside the building without exposing ourselves?” Athena asked. “We must assess before Evander approaches the entrance.”

“There’s a large glass dome that looks down into the hall, but they would be stupid not to cover it,” Lore said. “And I’m sure they have hunters up there to keep an eye on things.”

Van slipped his sleek leather backpack off his shoulder and dug through it until he retrieved a small case. He popped the clasp on it.

Inside was a black device, shaped like a bird and no bigger than the size of Lore’s fist. Leaving it in place, he retrieved his phone, entered the longest password Lore had ever seen, and pulled up an unfamiliar app. He scrolled through the images of a prosthetic hand and selected one, which changed the shape of his grip. Then he opened another. After tapping a few more buttons, the mechanical bird whirred to life and lifted out of its case.

Athena looked away in disgust. “Of course. I should have expected your . . . technology in the place of cunning and skill. This is truly the worst age of man.”

“Of course, anything not gods-given is terrible,” Lore said, rolling her eyes. “Well, I’m impressed.”

“Thank you,” Van told her as he flew the drone up toward the roof of Baron Hall. She and Castor leaned in closer as the device’s camera switched on. “I designed it myself.”

Heat radiated from Castor’s body as he hovered near her. “I count three hunters. No masks.”

A prickle of dread slid along Lore’s spine.

“That seems unusual, given what I know of the cowardice of the hunters,” Athena said.

“It is unusual,” Van confirmed.

“And unhelpful,” Lore said. “It may simply be that the Odysseides didn’t want their masks spotted by people in the nearby buildings. . . .”

“Or they might not be of the House of Odysseus,” Athena finished.

Lore had been right about another thing. The Odysseides had constructed a cement cover to sit over the massive stained-glass dome. “Is that a door?”

“Looks like it,” Van said, bringing the drone closer.

There was a small hatch embedded in the cement structure. There would have to be, she realized, to give access to the dome’s backlights. It was secured by an electronic keypad and what was likely a blast-resistant door.

“There’s no other way to see in?” Van asked her. “The infrared sensor is only going to tell us if there are people there, not who they are.”

Lore shook her head. Whatever windows existed in the building would have been reinforced and fogged.

“All right, then,” Castor said. He strode over to the ground-level glass doors of the neighboring building. The door handles glowed under his grip, the metal locks going soft enough for him to pull them open.

“Cas!” Lore hissed, but he had already disappeared through the entrance.

“At last,” Athena murmured. There was an eager gleam in her eye as she took several long strides to the door.

The building had no security guard, let alone elevators. They took the stairs at a full run until they reached a dark room on the top floor. When they entered, Lore startled at the shadowy outlines of mannequins and dress forms. Of course—they were in the Garment District. The building wasn’t made up of apartments, as she’d assumed, but fashion studios and workrooms, all seemingly empty on a Sunday evening.

Castor crouched beneath the line of windows that overlooked the roof of Baron Hall.

The two buildings were nestled together, side pressed to side. It would just be a matter of opening a window and jumping down two or three feet.

Lore ducked, moving to stand at one end of the windows, just out of sight of the hunters below. Athena took her position opposite Lore, shaking the dusters off her dory’s blade with obvious petulance.

“How are we going to do this?” Lore asked, stealing a glance at the hunters as they paced from end to end.

“Just like tag in Central Park,” Castor said. Lore snorted at the memory, but knew what he was talking about. They’d have to cluster the hunters together while still keeping them turned away. “If one spots us and radios it in, we’re done.”

“Got any new godly tricks up your sleeve on the distraction front?” Lore asked him. “A little razzle or dazzle?”

Van tapped a few buttons on the phone.

Castor and Lore turned back toward the window as the hunters, cloaked in their black robes, drifted together, drawn by the sight of the bird drone bobbing through the air in strange, irate patterns.

One of them reached to press his earpiece, making to report the strange sight. Before he could, the drone froze in the air and shot out three darts in quick succession. The hunters staggered away from one another, but then collapsed.

Athena turned toward Van as he calmly ran his finger over the surface of the phone, guiding the drone back to them. “While I do not approve of this false bird, I appreciate its lethality.”

“They’re not dead,” Van told her. “Just knocked out for the next hour or so.”

Castor broke the seal on the window frame and opened it. The bird buzzed inside, settling back into its case.

“What else do you have in there?” Lore asked him, eyeing Van’s backpack.

Van raised his brows as he pulled out a small dagger.

They made the jump between buildings and kept their steps light across the roof. Lore gripped the dory hard enough for her fingers to ache. Castor and Athena went to solve the problem of the hatch while she and Van approached the unconscious hunters. He passed her several zip ties.

With a grunt, Lore flipped one of the hunters over onto his back, pushing up the loose sleeve of his robe. A tattoo of the Kadmides’ mark, a serpent, coiled up his arm.

“Damn,” she whispered.

Van met her gaze, holding up another hunter’s arm to reveal the same.

They were already too late.

“We’re in,” Castor called softly.

Lore bound the hunters’ hands and feet together, then rose, her heart stuttering in her chest. As she turned, a faint buzzing caught her attention—muffled voices, crackling with static. Lore pulled the earpiece from the closest hunter and, after cleaning it, put it in her own ear. Van did the same, then retrieved the third and pocketed it.

They rejoined Castor and Athena at the cover’s hatch, which now looked like a half-crushed aluminum can. Lore stopped at the sight of it, almost unable to understand it. The sheer, brutal strength that would take . . .

Her eyes drifted over to Athena. The goddess stared down through the massive glass dome, her tight-lipped expression grim.

The central chamber of Baron Hall was its round lobby—an expansive, lavish space. The old teller stands had been converted into bars, including one at the very center, directly below the dome ceiling. Blue, gold, and green lights artfully lit the space, as if none of the Kadmides swarming the building had figured out how to turn on the overhead set.

It didn’t matter. Lore saw everything.

The Odysseides, their hands bound and heads covered with hoods, each kneeled, waiting for their turn to be dragged to the bus outside. The Kadmides, meanwhile, were helping themselves to the other bloodline’s weapons and stores of cash, food, and antiques that had been hidden elsewhere in the building.