“Ah, fuck.” Jerrett grimaced. “Give me two minutes.”

He darted from the room, and I looked between Malcolm and Sol. The dark, broad-shouldered vampire was still refusing to meet my gaze, so I focused on his brother.

“What does that mean? Why did this Thomas guy call you?”

“Thomas is a werewolf friend of ours. He trades in information and has his ear to the ground in most supernatural circles. He helps us keep an eye out for unusual activity,” Sol answered.

The timer on the oven beeped, and I jumped. I’d completely forgotten about my second batch of cupcakes. I grabbed the oven mitt off the counter and pulled the tin out, setting it on the wire rack before turning back to the men.

“And this—the goblins attacking—is unusual?”

Malcolm nodded, looking agitated. “Yes. Goblins are about the most harmless creatures that exist in our world. If they’re attacking people, something is very wrong.”

“Could this have something to do with the shades? Are they back?”

Sol’s lips quirked up on one side. “There’s only one way to find out.”

I realized then that he and Malcolm were both dressed in tactical wear—the dark, breathable clothes they wore when they went out on a hunt. Jerrett must’ve run upstairs to get ready too.

I licked my lips. “I want to come with you.”

Malcolm’s brows shot up. “What? No. Absolutely—”

“Get dressed.”

Sol’s voice cut through Malcolm’s deep rumble like a hot knife through butter, and I hesitated. I’d never heard Sol disagree with Malcolm before. Though they were obviously a team, Malcolm was also clearly the leader.

“Hurry. We need to leave soon,” Sol added.

I broke out of my stasis and rushed from the kitchen, leaving the two headstrong brothers to work out their differences of opinion without me. Somehow, I felt confident Sol would win this one.

In my bedroom, I threw on a dark t-shirt and stretchy, skin-hugging pants that let me move easily. I pulled my hair into a rough ponytail as I galloped back down the stairs.

The three men waited in the kitchen, and as I’d suspected, Sol had been the one to get his way. Malcolm didn’t look pleased at all, but he didn’t object further. Instead, he turned and led us into what turned out to be a large attached garage. Several gleaming cars were parked in an orderly row.

We all piled into a dark silver BMW, with Malcolm behind the wheel.

It was only when the garage door rose, and the car began to back out of the garage that an obvious thought struck me.

“Wait!” I was in the back with Sol, but I practically dived for the steering wheel. “The sun! Don’t—”

“It’s all right, Willow tree.” Sol caught me, settling me back into my seat. “There’s a protection charm on the windows that absorbs the sun’s rays. It’s not an easy enchantment to come by, but we keep one of our cars spelled at all times in case of emergencies. We’ll be fine.”

Just a few hours ago, I’d been thinking of how much I missed sunshine, but now my heart hammered against my ribs as Malcolm pulled out of the driveway.

But my skin didn’t catch fire or even let off a puff of smoke.

I didn’t feel the terribly agony of being burned alive.

In fact, the interior of the car stayed dim, as if it were twilight inside this small metal box. Outside, I could see the world lit with sunshine, but none of it reached us.

“Holy shit.” I peered out the window as we sped down the road.

Sol chuckled. “Glad you like it.”

It took us almost thirty minutes to reach our destination. Apparently, traffic in Manhattan moved just as slow for vampires as it did for everyone else.

Malcolm pulled over under the shadow of a tall building on 96th Street. A large man with the hairiest forearms I’d ever seen loitered under the scaffolding set up in front of the building. When he saw us, he lifted his chin and walked over.

The brothers slid out of the car. Sol extended a hand back to me as Malcolm conferred briefly with the new man—Thomas, I was guessing. A trickle of fear crawled down my spine as I stepped out onto the shadowy street. I was out of direct sunlight, but it still felt terrifying to be exposed like this. The air felt uncomfortably warm, and I had to assume that was due to ambient light from the sun.

Malcolm handed his keys to Thomas, clapped him on the shoulder, then led us down the sidewalk a short distance.

We passed over a subway grate, and Sol squeezed my hand. “Here.”

Before I could ask what he meant, Jerrett and Malcolm disappeared into the shadows below the grate.

My jaw dropped. “How did they...?”

“It’s just like shadow walking. Let the shadows pull you in.”

When he finished speaking, Sol too dissolved into the darkness of the tunnel below me. I clenched my jaw, my stomach roiling with nerves.

Oh geez. Well, you were the one who asked to join them, Willow. Don’t make Sol look bad for vouching for you.

Not giving myself any more time to dwell on the absolute weirdness of this, I took a small step forward, allowing the shadows below my feet to pull me in. I slipped through the grate as if it didn’t even exist, and a moment later, I found myself standing in the dark tunnel of the B train.

We set off through the darkness, the noise of trains rumbling in the distance mixing with my heartbeat in my ears. When a train sped toward us on the tracks, its yellow headlights gleaming in the darkness, I almost peed my badass vampire pants. But Jerrett pulled me against the wall, and we sank into the shadows while the train roared past.

After several more minutes of walking in silence, we reached a new tunnel that intersected ours. Malcolm veered into it. There were no tracks on the ground, and the walls were rough and uneven, as if they’d been carved out by crude instruments.

“What is this place?” I whispered.

“Goblin tunnel.” Sol’s voice came from beside me, and his hand still gripped mine. The darkness was thicker here, almost impenetrable.

“They made this?”

“Yeah.” Jerrett’s voice floated back from up ahead. “They create offshoots from the main subway lines and live off rats and scraps. There’s enough junk tossed out down here to support a pretty big colony of goblins. Shit, if the health department knew, they’d probably give them an award for helping keep New York clean.”

I chuckled at that. “So they’re like underground pigeons?”

“Rats are underground pigeons,” Sol corrected. “Goblins are more like—” He broke off suddenly, sniffing the air. “Damn it. I smell shades. They were here.”

“Shit. Come on!”

Jerrett darted forward, and we followed, speeding through the tunnel as it twisted and turned beneath the streets of Manhattan.

A few moments later, I could smell it too—the fetid scent of decay that always seemed to cling to the shades. Low, keening cries met my ears, chilling my blood. Lights came into view up ahead, and we slowed our steps.

Dozens of small torches gave off a strange blue glow, illuminating a sea of round, stubby faces with gray-brown skin.

Goblins.

They stood about three feet tall, dressed in a mishmash of rags and garbage. Their blunt teeth were bared in snarls, and it looked like the ones in the front with torches were protecting others that filled the tunnel behind them.

Malcolm held up his hands in a non-threatening gesture, though it was hard for someone as big and powerful as him to look anything but threatening.

“We mean you no harm.”

One of the goblins in front let out a stream of guttural sounds, shaking the torch clutched in his fist.

I furrowed my brows. “What?”

The leader repeated the sounds, his voice rising in pitch. Behind him, the wailing intensified. I peered through the crowd of goblins around him to the ones in the back. Several bodies lay unnaturally still on the ground. Dead? Or injured?

“They were attacked,” I whispered. “Look.”

Malcolm started to step forward, but the goblins pressed closer together, muttering words I couldn’t understand as they raised their torches threateningly. It reminded me a little of the scene in Return of the Jedi where the ewoks threaten Leia, and I would’ve smiled if the scene weren’t so heartbreaking. There was nothing the goblins could do to stop Malcolm if he chose to continue forward. Their threats were meaningless against a creature of his strength.

Just like they’d probably been against the shades.

But Malcolm stopped, holding out his hands placatingly. He spoke in a low voice, his words meant for us. “So this is why goblins have been wreaking havoc on the subway lines. The shades attacked their colony.”

“Are the shadow creatures still here?”

“No,” Sol answered me. “Their scent is strong, but not fresh. They’ve been gone for several hours, at least.”

I stared at the round, rough-featured faces before us, feeling helpless. What could we do? The shades were long gone, and it was too late to protect the goblins from their attack. They didn’t seem to want our help with their injured or dead either.

Sol’s hand was a reassuring anchor, and I squeezed it tighter. Then I jumped as cold, rough fingers grabbed my other hand. Breathing hard, I looked down.

A small goblin, a female maybe, tugged on my hand again. She had no torch, and her face appeared shadowed and gaunt. She spoke several guttural words then pressed a crumpled up piece of paper into my palm. Frowning, I raised it toward the light, smoothing it out as best as I could.

It was part of an ad torn from a magazine. A family sat on a couch together watching TV. Two children were curled up in between their parents, who gazed down at them adoringly.

The goblin grunted, pointing emphatically to the middle of the picture.

Understanding dawned, and my blood chilled.

“Their kids.” I swallowed. “The shades didn’t just attack them. I think the monsters stole their kids.”

“Do you scent anything, Sol?”

Malcolm’s tone was dark, as if he knew what the answer was going to be before he heard it. He probably did. Hell, I did.

“No. Nothing. I’ve lost the trail.”

Malcolm cursed under his breath. “Damn it. How did they slip away from us again? If they truly have the goblin children, we should be able to scent them at least.”

“We should. They must’ve used some kind of masking spell or something to block the scent.”

“Fuck a fucking duck.” Jerrett kicked at a metal beam along one wall. The metal dented, and he winced slightly.

We’d spent the past several hours roaming the subway tunnels under Manhattan. After the first hour, slipping into the shadows while trains rattled past had become second nature to me.

But we had nothing to show for our efforts.

We’d followed the shades’ scent for a while, losing it occasionally before picking it up again. And then suddenly, it had just vanished.

The trail was dead, and we all knew it. But Sol and Jerrett continued to poke around ahead of us, slipping down offshoot tunnels briefly before rejoining us.

I walked slowly next to Malcolm, concern burning a hole in my stomach. “How could those monsters do this? Steal children? I thought they were after me.”

Malcolm’s heartbeat was strong and steady beside me. I knew he was frustrated, but the leader in him wouldn’t let that emotion take over.

“They probably stole them to feed. It takes powerful dark magic to raise the dead, and to keep them that way. Sacrificing magical beings will feed the spell animating the shades’ corpses. The fact that they’re young ones makes the effect more potent.”

I shuddered. “So the shades strengthen themselves by killing others. That’s sick.”

“Yes.” His enigmatic gaze cut to me in the dark. “It is. And they’ve likely done this before. The shades’ strength and speed has increased since they surfaced. By now, they’re an equal match for me and my brothers, which is something very few supernaturals can boast.”

I liked that he was confident enough in himself to be able to admit that—I’d met plenty of guys whose fragile male egos couldn’t handle acknowledging any weakness. But I hated to think of how much stronger the shades might become if they continued to sacrifice innocents.

Distracted by my thoughts, I tripped on a rail, stumbling slightly.

Like lightning, Malcolm’s hand reached out to steady me. His large, warm fingers closed around my upper arm, and heat zinged through me like I’d been electrified.

My breath caught in my throat, and I heard his hitch too.

Thank God, it’s not just me.

The unexpected events of the day had distracted me from my confused feelings about what had happened with Malcolm, but now it all came rushing back. I reached up to rest my hand on his forearm, not sure if I was trying to break his grip or stop him from letting go.

“So, what now?”

My voice was a low whisper, and even I wasn’t exactly sure what I was asking. Was I talking about the shades and the missing goblin children? Or about Malcolm and me?

The vampire’s warm fingers grasped my chin to tilt my face up. His eyes gleamed like melted chocolate in the dim light, and I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to keep my pulse even.

“Now, wildcat, would be an excellent time for you to have another vision.”