I didn’t know a ton about the world of espionage—just what I’d learned from my parents when they’d started to train me. Most importantly, I’d learned to be very careful whom I trusted.

As you might imagine, my paranoia hadn’t eased at all since the angels had come to Earth. Supposedly, some humans fed information to the sentinels in exchange for food and protection. If I divulged my plans to anyone in my rookery, I risked exposure, or left them open to some kind of angelic torture.

Plus, Alex would try to thwart my plans in an instant. He had a little overprotective streak when it came to me.

So I tucked myself away in the VD clinic and made my own preparations. I’d found a hospital blanket and used my magic to glamour it. I pulled it over my head like a cloak, then stared at my reflection in the only shiny surface I could find—the glass window at the check-in counter.

This time, I was going to the Order with valuable information, and I could only pray I wouldn’t be leaving empty-handed. I had the name of another angel, and I’d identified Kratos’s weakness.

And if the Order of the Watchers couldn’t tell me anything about the dragons, I had another plan in my arsenal. One that involved using my skill set.

I stared at my features—my green eyes, my red hair, my heart-shaped lips, the cheekbones that stuck out more than they should. I summoned my glamour, feeling it prickle over my skin. I gaped at myself as my eyes transformed to glassy black orbs, my skin paling to the color of bone. After a few more seconds, I looked exactly like one of the sentinels.

Now I just needed to slip out of the hospital unnoticed. Shouldn’t be too hard, since I was the only one here. Katie had gone south to the river for water, and Lucy and Alex were out on a food-gathering mission.

I snatched a candle from the ground, folding it into my cloak.

Wrapped in my blanket, I crossed slowly to the clinic door, pushing it open to survey the scene before plunging into London’s streets. For just a moment, a wave of dizziness washed over me—a side effect of the powerful glamour magic.

A hard rain fell over the city, washing the land in a dull gray. I shivered, pulling the cloak tighter, then closed my eyes. As soon as I was outside the door, I had to behave like a phantom. No shivering, no wincing, no frowning. Just a vacant, glassy-eyed stare.

Sucking in a breath, I pushed through the door. I walked carefully, trying to give the illusion of gliding. A bit of additional glamour helped to smooth out my stride, so I appeared to be floating like the other sentinels.

Hunger rumbled between my ribs, but I ignored it, staring straight ahead as I glided onto New Road. The cold rain slid down my pale skin, dampening my cloak.

Just like a burlesque act, this was a choreographed routine. I’d watched the sentinels long enough to know how fast they moved, how smoothly, how they swiveled their necks.

As I drifted onto Commercial Street, I glimpsed another sentinel on the far side of the road, and my stomach clenched. Would he sense that I was an imposter? Could they smell each other?

I peered at the other sentinel from the corner of my eye, and his head rotated toward mine—the movements owl-like. I imitated the swivel, turning my head to stare at him in the same way. After a few moments, his head turned straight ahead, and I followed suit.

Soundlessly, we passed each other on opposite sides of the street. Rain drenched my cloak as I skimmed by an old, derelict music hall. I was going to need some of this rain to let up if my plan was going to work.

No one else was walking nearby, but when I looked up at the sky, I glimpsed a sentinel floating above me, watchful eyes burning. I couldn’t let down my guard here, not even for a second.

The quiet streets unnerved me. I depended on the constant chatter and stories in the rookery to keep my mind off everything I wanted to forget. I needed the fear of the Hunt, or my vampire books. I needed bright lights and dancing candle flames. I needed, above all, to forget the things I’d seen. My mind craved distractions.

Here, with only the sound of the rain to occupy my thoughts, it was hard not to think about Marcus.

He’d been my first real love, my first relationship where we’d communicated like grownups. With Marcus, I’d never had to guess what he was feeling. I’d known when he was annoyed, and exactly when he’d fallen in love with me, that he’d wanted to marry me. That had been true love.

Marcus was a rarity—a vampire who could walk in the light. But I didn’t want to think about him, his beautiful face, or the way he’d pursed his lips when he thought. I didn’t want to think about our summer vacation in Georgia, swimming with him under the moonlight, the phosphorescent waves dazzling against his pale, smooth skin.

That way madness lies.

A lump had risen in my throat, and I swallowed hard. That’s what the Great Nightmare had taken from me: Marcus and Hazel, and all the memories of them that would drag me under the surface.

Block them out, Ruby. Bury the thoughts.

If I was going to survive in this world, I couldn’t let my emotions overwhelm me.

And if I was going to convince the Order to help me this time, I needed to keep my wits about me.

The stormy skies darkened as I walked, and goosebumps rose on my skin. It wouldn’t be long until Kratos and his hounds tore apart the city, but I needed the cover of nightfall for my task tonight.

I crossed Tower Hill Garden, glancing at the scaffold. Here, long ago, kings and queens had once executed heretics and traitors. After the Great Nightmare began, the sentinels brought back the scaffold, for old times’ sake. We never knew who hung the victims, just that bodies appeared hanging from ropes in the dead of night. Mercifully, none swung there today as I glided past the gallows.

As I approached the Tower, the rain began to let up, and I loosed a sigh of relief. If I was going to contact the Order of the Watchers, I’d need to be able to light a candle. I wouldn’t have much time to linger in front of the gatehouse trying to strike a match.

As I approached the Tower’s stone gates, I swiveled my neck from side to side, checking the landscape for the presence of sentinels. One drifted over the grasses of the old moat, and another glided slowly in the cloudy skies.

I peered at the Tower again. Really, tower was a funny name for the constellation of buildings before me. According to one of the history books in my little STD clinic, it was actually made up of at least twenty towers, some of them connected. I’d read about the Bell Tower, the White Tower, the Salt Tower, and the disturbingly named Bloody Tower, where someone had murdered two young princes…

Now I approached the first of the towers—the Middle Tower—basically a gatehouse without the gate. I strode right through the arched entryway.

I understood why they didn’t bother with the portcullis here. If the hounds wanted to get to the next gate, they’d just go around it, using the moat. Only the tower directly in front of me served a purpose in the world of the Great Nightmare—this one formed a part of the imposing medieval walls.

The hounds were terrifying, but they weren’t capable of leaping ninety feet in the air. Neither was I, sadly, so I just had to hope I could get in there before the hounds arrived for the night.

A heavy wooden door and an iron gate barred the arched entrance to the Byward Tower. High above the door, narrow windows were inset into the stone walls. In the gloom, I couldn’t see anything in them. I had to hope someone was in there, watching—a fae, perhaps a human.

Anything but an angel.

My eyes flicked to the skies. The sentinel had swooped over the Tower until I was no longer within its line of vision. I glanced to my right, where the other sentinel was approaching. When the creature reached the wall, he pivoted, turning in the other direction.

Now, without any sentinels watching me, my chance had arrived.

With shaking hands, I reached into my cloak, pulling out a candle and a lighter. I flicked the lighter, igniting the wick.

A gust of wind blew it out again.

“Shit!” I whispered. I lit the candle a second time, my pulse racing.

Distantly, I heard hounds baying, and hairs rose on the back of my neck.

I held the candle up, hoping anyone watching the gatehouse could see what I was doing. I needed to cover it three times with my hands and—

The damned thing blew out again in a damp gust of wind.

“Balls!” I hissed, maybe a little too loudly.

Flick. My heart raced, and I lit the wick again, this time managing to shield it with part of my arm. The shaking in my hands surely wasn’t helping the situation, but this time, the wick stayed lit. I glanced up at the tower windows, then blocked the flame with my hand.

One… Two… Three.

One of the old signals of the Order of the Watchers. Last time I’d come, it had gotten me as far as an audience with one of the Watchers.

I blew out the candle. As the smoke curled into the air, I shoved the candle and lighter back into my cloak. Ordinary sentinel here. Nothing to see here, folks.

When my gaze flicked to the right, I saw the moat sentinel turning, heading back toward me. Had he seen my ungraceful movements, the frantic lighting of the candle? Had he noticed that I’d been lingering here too long? Sentinels always kept moving, and I’d just been standing here.

Maybe I needed to drift—just until someone opened the gods-damned gate. Hadn’t the Watcher been faster last time? I needed that gate to open. My chances of getting home alive at dusk weren’t wonderful.

But instead of the creaking of the gate, silence greeted me.

I slowly pivoted like a sentinel, gliding over the cobblestones. The sound of barking hounds drew closer, and my heart began to slam against my ribs. Maybe I could fool the sentinels, who were all eyes, but the hounds would sniff me out in a second.

Slowly, I glided back over the cobbles toward the first tower. I did my best to act like a normal levitating, soulless being. I drifted slowly through the first arched door, occasionally swiveling my head like an owl. Desperately, I listened for the sound of a door creaking open behind me.

Please open the door.

As I got to the edge of the cobbled path, a tendril of pure fear coiled through me. There, across a stony expanse, Kratos rode atop his bone-white horse, surrounded by his mob of ivory hounds. They were going to tear me to pieces if I didn’t get inside the Tower.

I pivoted, heading back to the gate, moving a little faster than a sentinel should, no longer able to keep control of my movements. A cold sweat drenched my body. Behind me, the sound of the hounds moved closer, their barking ripping through the silence. From the corner of my vision, I caught a glimpse of the sentinel moving closer, eyes locked on me now.

My cover was blown, and the hounds had scented me.