He stopped at an all-night diner on Fourth Street and ordered coffee and pie, sharing the place with a bone-weary waitress and some produce brokers from the West Side Market. Lilith’s words rattled around in his brain. He’d always been conflicted about his role as a slayer. So much of what she’d said echoed the voices in his own head.

He sent a brief text to Gabriel, relaying what had happened. By the time he left the diner, he had a throbbing headache. And a summons to a meeting with Gabriel and Alison the next day.

Members of Nightshade lived in the Oxbow Building, a former warehouse that had been renovated as spacious loft apartments. No shared dormitory rooms for them. It was the most secure building on campus. Gabriel occupied the penthouse.

Jonah didn’t mingle much with his colleagues in Nightshade, save his few trusted friends. They had little in common save a talent for killing, and Jonah had too many secrets to keep. So he was viewed as a loner, resented as Gabriel’s pet. Rumored to be especially deadly.

That, at least, was true.

When he finally walked into the duty room on the first floor of the Oxbow Building, Alison Shaw was waiting for him, still blood-grubby from the fight in the Flats.

“Thank God,” she said, when he walked in. “I was beginning to worry.”

“I thought it was best not to come straight back here,” Jonah said. “I think half the Cleveland PD is out there.”

“You could’ve sent me a text.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He studied her. “You have blood all over you.”

“Those cadavers must’ve been fresh,” Alison said. “Lots of splash-back.” She swiped at her clothes. “I know I need a shower, but I didn’t want to miss you when you came in.” She waited and, when he said nothing, said, “Well? What was that all about?”

Jonah really didn’t want to get into it. He wished he could go up to his apartment and strip off his bloody clothes, clean his blade, and lose himself in his music until he could lose himself in sleep.

She deserved an answer, though. She’d saved his butt.

“A shade grabbed a preschool class,” he said, tossing the ax onto a table. “From that mainliner town. Trinity. Mostly wizards.”

Alison wrinkled her nose, as if nobody would possibly want a preschool class, let alone a gifted one. “A preschool class? Why?”

“Someone named Lilith has a new scheme going.”

It wasn’t the first time someone had tried to take charge of the shades, to organize a system for collecting and allocating bodies. But the constant hunt for new meat made it difficult to orchestrate anything.

Jonah pulled the bottle from his jeans and waved it in front of Alison. “Whatever it is, it requires blood magic. Which comes from killing the gifted.”

“Blood magic?” Alison hesitated, as always, unwilling to admit she didn’t know something. “What’s it used for?”

“I don’t know. But Gabriel will.” He slid his fingers into his pocket, pulling out the bits of nightshade. “They scattered this around before the killing began.” When Alison looked puzzled, he said, “It’s nightshade. It looks like shades are the ones murdering mainliners, after all. And trying to blame it on us.”

Alison grimaced. “You know I’ve got no use for mainliners, but children?”

“I guess so.”

Alison folded her arms and lifted her chin. “What is it about you, Kinlock? Do you attract trouble or what? I wondered why you didn’t stay for the second set.”

Jonah rubbed blood away from a long scrape on his arm. “I smelled the shade, and I had to go check it out.”

“You smelled it.”

“He was wearing a corpse that was totally rank.”

“I wish I had your sense of smell.”

“No, you don’t. Trust me, it was pretty hard to take.” He slid a glance at her. Jonah had literally grown up with Alison. He understood her, though she wasn’t always easy to be with.

“Anyway, I’m glad you came along when you did. I had my hands full.” He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “How did the rest of the show go?”

“That’s why I was trying to reach you. Mose nearly passed out during the last set,” Alison said. “Natalie took him back to his place. She seems really worried.”

“I’ll call them,” Jonah said. “See how he’s doing.” He paused. “Is it me, or has this been a really long day?”

Alison hesitated for a heartbeat, and then said tentatively, “I had a good time tonight.” She licked her lips.

No! Jonah thought, beginning to edge toward the door. Please don’t go there. Don’t ruin our friendship. Don’t make it awkward between us when you’re one of the few friends I have.

Maybe he should imprint No! on his black sweatshirts. No, I’m not seeing anyone. No, I wouldn’t like to go someplace for coffee. No, I don’t come here often. Just. No.

Alison put her gloved hand on his arm. “I just thought maybe you . . . that you might want to . . . come up to my place for a little while.”

“I can’t,” Jonah said, knowing he had to stop her before she committed herself. So she could pretend it had never happened. What was he supposed to say now? It’s not you, it’s me? Which was the truth, after all.

He looked into her eyes, saw the spark of hope fading. “I’m sorry, Alison, I’m a mess, I really am.” In every way. “I need to clean up and go to bed. I’m filthy, I feel awful, and I’ve got class in”—he checked his phone—“six hours, and you do, too.” He put his gloved hand on her shoulder. “See you tomorrow.”

Chapter Sixteen

Heir Apparent

When Jonah arrived in Gabriel’s outer office, Alison was already there, all cleaned up from the night before. She sat in one of the guest chairs, ramrod straight, her feet planted, hands gripping the armrests as if determined to prevent herself from doing something stupid.

When Jonah walked in, she looked up at him, then quickly away. She picked at a scratch on her arm.

“Go right on in,” Patrick said.

When they entered, Gabriel was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the conference area, a pick clenched between his teeth, restringing a Martin D-18. He fussed with the bridge for a few more minutes, then set the guitar aside, shaking his head. “I’ll deal with that later.” Pushing up to his feet, he embraced each of them in turn. “Glad you’re safe,” he said. He motioned Jonah and Alison to their usual seats.

“Alison,” Gabriel said, studying her. “You look like you’re feeling better. More robust.”

She nodded. “Right,” she said faintly, swallowing hard. Her gaze flicked to Jonah, then back to Gabriel. “I’m doing great. If I could just get rid of these headaches, I’d be perfect.”

“Headaches? Are those new?”

Alison nodded. “It’s always something.”

“Ah.” Gabriel tapped his long, slender fingers on a newspaper spread across the table, clearly ready to move on. “Now . . . tell me what happened in the Flats. The newspapers are full of it this morning.” He held up the newspaper, and Jonah read the headline: Police Baffled at Grisly Scene in Flats. And underneath, Kidnapped Children Safe.

I accomplished something, anyway, Jonah thought. But the victory tasted bitter in his mouth. “I ran into some trouble in the Flats, and Alison came to the rescue.”

From the corner of his eye, Jonah caught Alison’s expression of pleased surprise.

“Go on,” Gabriel said, settling back in his chair, the newspaper on his lap.

“When I left Club Catastrophe last night, I caught a whiff of mischief and went to investigate. I found Brendan Wu on the Carter Road Lift Bridge.”

“Brendan Wu?” Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.

“Remember? He died at Safe Harbor four years ago,” Jonah said. “He’d kidnapped a preschool class.”

Gabriel tapped the newspaper. “From Trinity, apparently?”

Jonah nodded. “All gifted.” He fished the glass bottle out of his jacket pocket and handed it across to Gabriel. “He was carrying this, to collect blood magic. He said that gifted children were the best source.”

“Shades want blood magic?” Gabriel murmured, examining the bottle as if fascinated. “I wonder why.”

“What’s blood magic?” Alison asked. “And what’s it good for?”

“It’s the energy released when the gifted are killed,”

Gabriel said, setting the bottle on the table. “It can be captured using special ensorcelled containers like these. It’s an extremely potent magical catalyst, sometimes used by sorcerers on the down-low to force together incompatible elements in order to create powerful—often deadly—magical objects and potions.” Gabriel chewed on his lower lip. “I don’t get it.

How would shades know about that?”

“Apparently someone named Lilith is leading them now,”

Jonah said.

“Lilith?” Gabriel leaned forward, and the newspaper slid to the floor.

Jonah nodded. “I thought the name seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place it. Brendan said she had a plan to save all of us. He wouldn’t tell me specifically what it was, but it involves blood magic. Apparently, they’re behind the mainliner killings.”

“Oh my God,” Gabriel said, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Jonah’s mentor radiated a mingle of emotions, but one dominated them all. Fear. Gabriel knew Lilith . . . and he was afraid of her for some reason. “This Lilith showed up, then, with an army of shades, and tried to convince me to join them in riffing the preschoolers,” Jonah said. “She claimed to know you.”

“I knew someone by the name of Lilith Greaves, who died at Thorn Hill,” Gabriel said. “But it couldn’t have been her.

That’s impossible.”