As I led Sebastos deeper into the mansion, past the sleek walls and writhing bodies, another powerful presence slid up to my side.

Raphael’s blue gaze caught mine. “Didn’t think you’d be going without me, did you?”

I let myself look at his beautiful features for just a moment before tuning in again to that warm tug in my belly. I was pretty sure it wasn’t just the champagne making me feel this way. Was it?

I should have felt scared, deeply unnerved at this preternatural feeling. And yet it felt so strangely familiar, like… a skill I’d once had. Something I’d forgotten. Something that had always been a part of me, just like Sebastos had said.

I’d once read an article about a famous neurologist who’d done too much cocaine and had messed up some part of his brain. Bizarrely, he had woken up with an intensely heightened sense of smell. And he’d felt like it was a power that had once belonged to him, a hidden relic in the ancient parts of his brain. This felt exactly like that.

If magic lurked in the ancient part of my brain—if magic and shadow angels were real—then I needed to have a long talk with my mom in the near future. Granted, I also had to consider the possibility that she might still be unwell, even if she was right about the angels. The toasters didn’t fit with anything.

In any case, I couldn’t get distracted by these ruminations, or I’d lose my tenuous connection to this thing.

I led the two men to a wide marble stairwell, moving faster now, more sure of myself. At the top of the stairs, the stairwell opened to an expansive corridor of clean white walls and slate gray doors. Two guests lingered in a doorway, rubbing up against each other, but no one lurked at the far end.

Up here, the warm tug intensified, a clear rope of light pulling at my middle.

What was this feeling, and why would I be connected to this ancient instrument? Given their whole ‘discover everything for yourself’ philosophy, I didn’t suppose any of the Academy of Light members were going to fill me in anytime soon.

My footsteps echoed in the hallway, and I followed the tug further down the corridor. My skin hummed with excitement, until at last we arrived at the isolated end of the hall. I paused outside one of the doors, my chest blooming with a warm, arid magic.

Magic. I’d hardly allowed myself to even think the word before, and now it kept coming into my mind, unbidden. But how else could I explain everything that had been happening?

I met Raphael’s sea-blue gaze. I mouthed, “in here.”

Sebastos pressed his ear against the door. He held up a finger. “Wait.”

My heart pounded. “If anyone is in there, are they likely to be armed?”

Raphael leaned against the doorframe, shrugging. “The cultists are awfully fond of weapons. And torture. Things like that.”

I shuddered. Of course they hadn’t mentioned any of this before we’d come up here.

“Empty,” Sebastos murmured.

“Really?” I chewed my lip. This seemed too easy, right? I had envisioned opening the door to a roomful of armed cultists, each of them aiming a gun at me.

Maybe I was overdue for some blessings from the gods of luck. For Holly’s sake, I hoped I could just grab this instrument and get the flip out of here.

Sebastos turned the doorknob and the door creaked open, revealing a room that rivaled the guest room at Balthazar’s for opulence. The color scheme in here was pale silver with accents of deep maroon. Oak furniture gave the room a cultured, expensive appearance, and the faint smell of fresh varnish hung in the air. Silky sheets were neatly tucked over an enormous bed; and just as Sebastos had promised, the room was totally empty.

I closed my eyes again, tuning in to that warm tug in my belly. The sooner we found the compass, the sooner we found Death—and Holly. Then my life could go back to normal. Or at least the vague approximation of normality I’d once nearly managed to achieve.

The tug in my belly compelled me toward one of the dressers, the warmth intensifying into something that felt like euphoria. I pulled open the top drawer, finding it stuffed with items that could only be described as Victorian curiosities: tiny animal skulls, a stuffed bird, corked vials full of herbs. Creepy.

Raphael leaned over me, pulling out something that looked like ancient, three-pronged scissors. “Is this an astrolabe?”

Sebastos narrowed his eyes. “It’s a medieval arrow remover, you uncultured barbarian.”

As I reached for the second drawer, voices outside penetrated the wood. “In here—I swear it’ll be empty!” a man’s silky voice assured loudly.

Sebastos pointed to the closet across the room, mouthing, “over there.”

All at once, we bolted across the room to the closet, cramming inside. We’d just made it in when the bedroom door burst open. With the closet door open a crack, I could see a few flashes of pale white flesh—nothing more. A cacophony of liquor-tinged laughter floated across the room.

I found myself wedged tightly between Raphael and Sebastos. To my right, I felt the steely, thickly corded muscle of Sebastos. He smelled like the ocean and, faintly, orange blossoms. To my left, Raphael’s body felt supple and warm, his cedar smoke scent wrapping around me. Sebastos had put his hand on my back again—a protective gesture—and my heart sped up. If it hadn’t been for my best friend’s absence—and the pervasive threat of violence I’d felt since we’d entered this place—I might actually be enjoying myself right now.

“You weren’t wrong about this bed,” the woman purred. I found myself squinting through the crack in the door to get a good view of the couple. It’s not like I was a voyeur, but—

Okay, I was a little bit of a voyeur. I spied on my neighbors, and I hid in closets to watch people fondle each other. But I was also fighting the forces of darkness, so I didn’t think it was fair to judge me.

Black hair cascaded over the woman’s shoulders, and she sat on the bed, looking up at her partner with pure adoration. The man was powerfully built, and he pulled off his jacket. I watched as she peeled off her short silver dress, revealing lacy red underwear. Her attention looked completely rapt on his face as she pulled off her bra straps, exposing her nipples. Had I ever looked at anyone with the unrestrained lust with which she was staring up at him?

A thin sheen of sweat rose on my cleavage, and my heart began pounding so hard I worried for a moment they’d hear me right through the door. Fortunately, they were absorbed in only each other.

Teeth scraped flesh, her ruby lips parted to let out groans, and the two beautiful men to either side of me pressed in close. I felt as if my body was overheating, straining against the tight fabric of my dress. Heat arced through my blood, and words alien to my vocabulary began to enter my skull.

In fact, my mind became a jumble of fevered words like breasts, groping, grinding, writhing… Balthazar’s lips promising me fucking.

I closed my eyes, trying to master some control over myself. I took a step back from the door’s crack, knocking into a coat hanger.

Raphael’s hand shot out to grab it before it the hanger squeaked against the metal rail. After he stalled it, he hooked his arm around my waist and pulled me close. I was about to tell him I was capable of standing on my own two feet, but I didn’t want to give away our position.

In these close quarters, with Raphael’s strong arm around my waist, listening to the muted moans, my heart hammered faster and faster. I glanced at Raphael, just able to make out his gold-flecked eyes in the dim light. And was it just me, or was his body… glowing? Would it glow brighter if he started touching me the way the man outside was touching that woman, if I peeled off my dress for him and splayed my legs…?

Get a grip, Dawn.

I tried my hardest not to brush my hips against him… it would be so easy to pass it off as accidental in the dark, so close together.

“Where are they?” a voice barked from outside the room. “Seriously? The master bed?”

The woman on the bed shrieked with laughter, clapping her hand over her mouth as someone banged on the door.

“Out!” someone yelled, his voice penetrating the door. “Seriously. That’s out of bounds.”

“But we’ve already started,” the woman groaned, wrapping her legs around her lover’s neck and giggling.

“Come on.” The man straightened. “Let’s find somewhere more private.” He nipped on the woman’s hip and she squealed.

Then he pulled her off the bed. She didn’t even bother picking up her dress, just pulled her bra up to conceal her breasts, and they stumbled out of the room. When the door clicked shut, we all started to breathe normally again.

Raphael pushed open the closet door. “At least the cultists know how to enjoy themselves.”

I stepped into the room, hoping that I no longer displayed a vibrant flush on my chest. “Hang on,” I said. “I’m the one who can sense this thing. You two just need to stand watch outside and let me work my magic, okay?”

Sebastos cocked his head. “Your magic?”

“Yes.” I shooed them toward the door. “Go, go. Let me search.”

Raphael rested his hand on my waist, and his touch sent a jolt of electricity through my body. “We’ll be right outside.”

They crossed to the door, and I watched the way the men moved: Sebastos’s stiff soldier’s posture versus the easy grace of Raphael’s fluid gait, his hands in his pockets.

As soon as they left the room, I closed my eyes once more, summoning that warm light in my belly. The unmistakable tug lured me back to the bureau again, pulling me downward. I crouched on the floor, pulling open the bottom drawer.

My heart sank for a moment when I found it empty, but the warmth in my belly intensified. I stared at the empty drawer. Was I just drunk, or… was this drawer way shallower than the top one?

I dug my thumbnails into the grooves at the side and gently, carefully, lifted the wooden bottom, biting my lip when I realized that this was actually working. Whatever was in this drawer, someone wanted to keep it hidden—and the warmth radiating through my body told me this was the right place.

As I slid off the lid, I stared down at a golden, palm-sized compass. Its surface was etched with swirls and arcs, Roman numerals, and a network of starry designs that seemed at once familiar and alien. It seemed to sing to me, to call to me like it wanted me to pick it up. I had the strangest sense that I’d seen it before, that it belonged to me.

“You beautiful little thing!” I whispered, pulling it out of the drawer. I ran my fingertips over its surface, feeling the grooves.

Since I’d broken up with Luke, I’d felt a hollow void in my chest. It had only worsened the moment I’d discovered Holly’s absence. When I’d met the men from the Academy, a little of that void had begun to fill again. And now, with this astrolabe in my hands, the gnawing emptiness eased even more, imbuing me with a sense of power that I couldn’t help but feel had once belonged to me.

Quickly I replaced the false bottom of the drawer, then rolled it shut. Would this ancient tool actually take me to Holly? I could only hope.

Unfortunately I didn’t have any place to hide the thing; the dress didn’t happen to come with any pockets.

I wrapped my fingers around it, pressing it against my side as inconspicuously as I could manage. I pulled the door open, then shut it quietly behind me.

Raphael waited for me outside, leaning against the wall. He raised his eyebrows expectantly.

I nodded at him, still clutching the astrolabe, coming up with a brilliant idea to hide it. I carefully slid the compass into my bra. “Nature’s pockets.” I snorted at my own joke before becoming distracted by the feel of the astrolabe glowing warmly against my heart.

“Time to take you home,” he said, his sensual voice moving over my body like a caress. “Sebastos is keeping an eye out at the bottom of the stairs.”

I folded my arms in front of my chest, making sure the astrolabe stayed in place in my cleavage. My heels echoed off the marble walls, and Raphael’s arm brushed against mine as we walked.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I found Sebastos engaged in some kind of stare-off with Bowler Hat. I sidled up to Sebastos, hoping we could just scoot out of here and move on with things.

The cultist now swayed on his feet, slurring. “It’s jusss that I’ve never seen you here before.”

Raphael stepped forward, his blue eyes penetrating the dim light. “We were just on our way out.”

Bowler Hat reached into his belt, drawing a gun, and my stomach dropped. “Or maybe you stay and we get to know eashh other a bit better. How does that sound?”

Sebastos didn’t move an inch, showed nothing on his features. A perfect, stoic soldier.

The music still blared, and most of the partygoers hadn’t yet noticed that someone had pulled a gun. My heart hammered against my ribs in time to the music. This was not a good situation.

As I gaped at them, a rough hand pulled me to the side, and a man with long black hair stared down at me. His pupils dilated as he leaned in, huffing a sniff of my neck. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” He clutched my arm hard, fingers digging into my flesh, and the gesture reminded me of Luke. I wanted to punch this intrusive jerk.

“One of who?” I said, trying to tug my arm away.

I cast a panicked glance at Sebastos just in time to see him slam his arm into Bowler Hat’s wrist. The gun flew out of the cultist’s hand, and Sebastos managed to catch it in his other hand.

It only took an instant for Sebastos to turn the gun on Bowler Hat.

“Like we said,” Raphael continued, completely unruffled, “we were just leaving.”

That was when complete pandemonium broke out—shrieking, guns pulled—and I tried to wrench my arm free from the freak gripping me. I brought my knee up hard into his crotch, and he finally released me.

I wasn’t staying in this place a moment longer. Through the throng of panicking people, I elbowed my way to the door, the astrolabe heating my chest.

With a racing pulse, I rushed into the cool night air. Another hand grabbed my arm, this one gentler, steadying me. I brushed the hair from my face and blinked up into dark eyes.

“Balthazar,” I said with relief.

Concern etched his features. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said, mostly truthfully. “We need to go, though. Now.”

The front door slammed open, and Sebastos and Raphael raced out in a blur of speed, so fast they almost seemed… inhuman.

I hurried into the Porsche after them, my mind buzzing with nerves. Balthazar turned on the ignition, speeding off into the Cambridge night. In the back seat, I pulled out the astrolabe, mesmerized by its graceful arcs and gears.

I felt as though I was suddenly in the center of something, but I had no idea what.