The old lady lived alone on the edge of Southside in the ramshackle homes that were more deathtrap than sanctuary. Shingles from the roof littered the ground outside the building, and the windows were covered in grime, but despite its sorry state of disrepair, this building would have been beautiful in its heyday.

Instructing the old woman to remain outside, Azren and I headed up the worn stairs, past dust-covered frames of family portraits containing happy people and past peeling floral wall paper. We hovered under the hatch that led to the attic. I shifted from foot to foot, trying to ease the pinch in my toes. First my hands and now my feet? What was this? A late growth spurt?

“Why are we here?” Azren asked roughly. “You don’t really believe there’s a monster up there.”

“It’s unlikely. But she’s scared, so there must be something—maybe a bird or bats. If we can help, then we should." Plus, it gave me something to focus on aside from being soul sucked by Valance in the shower.

Azren studied me for a long beat. “I doubt she has any money to pay you.”

“Do I look like I go around extorting grannies?”

His eyes narrowed. “I thought you were running a business.”

Ooo. He was throwing the words back at me that I’d hit him with when we’d first met. “Yeah, I am. My business. So I get to do whatever the fuck I want. I can think of worse things to do than helping put an old lady’s mind to rest.”

“There are no old ladies on my side of the border.” He said the words softly, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

“What?”

He averted his gaze for a second as if suddenly uncomfortable. “The elderly and feeble serve no purpose and so they are culled.”

Wait, had he just said ... “Culled? You mean you kill them?” Okay, so my voice had risen several octaves, but this was ridiculous. “How could you do that?”

He shrugged. “They have a duty to remove themselves from society, and when the time comes, they enter the Sleeping.”

“Where you kill them.”

“They are put to rest, yes.”

“Killed. They are killed. Come on, say it. You kill old people.” I threw up my hands. “Not using the word doesn’t change the facts.”

His jaw clenched. “We do not have the resources and connections to the rest of this world that Arcana City has. Our resources are limited, and those unable to contribute to the functioning of society are a burden. It’s simply a fact.”

“Nope, uh-uh. There is no justifying murdering old people.”

The lines of his face tightened and sharpened as his glamour weakened in the face of his anger. Yeah, he was pissed, but so was I.

“I don’t make the rules, I follow them,” he snapped.

“Yeah? Then maybe it’s time you stopped being a fucking puppet and thought for yourself.”

His eyes flared bright green, and his face rippled as the glamour fell away, giving me a glimpse of the monster beneath. It lasted less than a second, but the flash was a cruel reminder of who I was dealing with. He was a demon. Elora’s right-hand man, and no matter how close we grew, he’d always be loyal to his liege and her inhumane methods.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Forget it. Forget I said anything.”

His glare softened. “It’s not as easy as a click of your fingers.”

I reached for the string attached to the concertina folded ladder pressed to the hatch. “It could be.” Why was I still trying to influence him? He was what he was, but my mouth refused to quit, because, heck, he couldn’t be the bad guy. He wasn’t. “Things could change if enough people stood up to Elora.”

His ire was back in an instant. “How can you be so naive? Challenging the order would bring nothing but war. Why do you think Elora bound you to the contract? Why do you think we’ve been charged to find the rebels?” He stepped closer, and I held my ground. “The rebels challenge the order. If left unchecked, they could bring us to war once more.”

I lifted my chin to meet his fiery green gaze. “So, it’s better to live in oppression than fight for freedom, is that it?”

His eyes flashed and then he snorted in disgust and stepped back. “It’s easy for those who have not seen war to judge those who have trudged through it. Elora ended the carnage, and things may not be perfect, but there is peace. We must stop the rebels.” He sighed and the fire bled out of his stance. “Besides, aren’t your people as much slaves to the Arcana as we are to the Draconi? Why don’t you fight back?”

He had a point, and it was an uncomfortable thought. Our society was a faux democracy. On the surface, we had a say, but in reality, the final decision would always be made by those in power.

Something thudded above us.

“Excuse me? Have you caught it yet?” the old lady called up from the hallway.

“It’s all right, Ms. Finch, just go back outside. We’re on it.” I gave Azren a look of finality; this conversation was over.

For now.

Azren slid the dagger I’d loaned him from its sheath and nodded. With K gripped firmly in one hand, I pulled the string. The ladder descended soundlessly. The old biddy had kept it in good nick, which was weird, because how often did she go up there?

Another thud, but softer this time.

Azren and I locked gazes in silent communication. Okay, there was definitely something up there. He gestured that he should go first.

Sweet, but this was my gig. I shook my head and then began to climb. The hatch wouldn’t budge at first, but a hearty shove had it cracking open. Dust billowed out, catching me on an inhale. My cough was a rough rasp. It had been a while since anyone had opened that door. Which begged the question, if something was hiding up here, then how had it got in? Via the roof, maybe? Was there a breach somewhere? Had there been an attic window? I should have checked for this shit before entering the building.

With another heave, the hatch door fell back, exposing nothing but darkness. A white string fell in my face. The light switch, no doubt. A tug, but no joy. Okay, we were going in blind. At least the space was boarded. Or so the old lady had said.

Darkness closed around me and the musty air tickled the back of my throat. My night vision kicked in and shapes and lumps became visible—boxes, trunks, old furniture, and knickknacks. The space was large and there was definitely moonlight coming in from somewhere—possibly a hole in the roof, maybe even the breach that the intruder had used to gain access?

Azren popped up behind me, his dagger catching the meager light and glinting dully. My scalp prickled. There was definitely something up here. Climbing up into the room, I moved slowly and silently across the dusty boards. The space wasn’t as cluttered as it could be, but there were plenty of places for the intruder to hide. The most obvious suspects would be one of the little people—a boggle or a hobgoblin. They were vagrant creatures who moved from place to place, never settling anywhere too long. Myth said that their ancestors had lived alongside humans at one time and acted as invisible aides around the home, but those creatures were gone, back to their world, leaving behind confused neph descendants struggling to deal with this strange attraction to homes that didn’t belong to them.

Let’s hope that was what we were dealing with. Azren moved off to the left, not too far but far enough to be able to scope out his side of the attic. Skin pricking in warning, I made a circuit. Behind a set of crates and an overturned, partially open suitcase was the breach—a rip in the roof, jagged and unnatural.

Something had torn its way in.

“There’s nothing here,” Azren said.

But we’d heard it. “I think it may have escaped through this hole. We should patch it up before we go, to stop it from getting back in.”

Azren came up behind me, the heat of his body strangely soothing in this eerily dark room. “What’s to stop it tearing another hole to get in?” His breath tickled the top of my head. He reached over my head to finger the jagged aperture. His arm brushed the back of my head, and the urge to lean back against him was a sudden, shocking ache in my bones. “That’s a lot of material to tear through,” he mused.

I stepped under his arm. “You’re right, it could come back. We need to catch whatever it is. We’ll need a trap.” I headed for the hatch. “I’ll go back to the—”

“Watch out!”

Something slammed into my back with enough force to whiplash my neck. My teeth bit into my tongue, and the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth. The board rose up to meet me, and I braced myself just in time, palms scraping wood. But my elbows gave way under the weight on my back, throwing me forward. A flash of silver, metal perhaps, and then the back of my head was in a vise-like grip.

“Azren!”

I caught a glimpse of him before the thud and crunch of metal meeting bone filled the air. The grip on my skull eased a fraction, and I twisted out of the thing’s grasp, bucking and attempting to roll from under the creature. Azren body-slammed my attacker, freeing me completely to get a proper look at the monster.

But this was no flesh-and-bone creature, it was obsidian and silver machinery, spiderlike in composition. It recovered quickly from Azren’s attack, leapt onto the ceiling, and scuttled away. Like fuck was it escaping. It was way too big to get through the hole. We barreled after it, reaching it just as it folded in on itself and slipped out the breach into the night.

Azren turned to look at me, hands on hips, his harsh face twisted in confusion. “What was that thing?”

My mouth hurt where I’d bit my tongue. “I hath no idea.”

“Yeah, thome kind of metal thing, right. I know. Crathy. Thank you. I apprethiate it.” I ended the call to Noir and pocketed my mobile.

Azren leaned against the wall that bordered the house, arms crossed. He looked totally at ease, but that was a facade. I’d spent enough time with him to know when he was on high alert, and right now, Azren was scoping out the area, his body ready to react at the slightest provocation.

I joined him by the wall and hopped up, taking a load off. Damn, I wasn’t sure what ached more, my feet or my mouth.

“How’s your tongue?” Azren asked.

I stuck it out at him, then winced. “Count your blesthings that thing didn’t attack you. You’d probably have bitten your tongue off entirely.”

His gaze was fixed on the deserted street. “Shedim tongues are hardy and extremely versatile.”

Okay, now that was taking my mind in totally inappropriate directions. Not to mention wondering how he kissed, but we’d been down that line of questioning and it had almost ended on a demonstration. “Good to know.”

He smirked. He knew exactly where my mind had gone.

“Howth’s your hand?”

He held it up, crusted with blood but completely healed.

“I can’t believe you punched a machine.”

“What did you expect me to do? Give it a hug?”

What? Wait. Had he just made a joke? My lips parted in a grin. “Look who grew a thense of humor.”

He cut a glance my way, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. An honest-to-God, genuine fucking smile. My heart stuttered and then began to beat a little faster, because damn if it wasn’t the most glorious thing ever.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” the little old lady called from the porch.

I blinked, tearing my gaze from Azren’s face. “No, thank you, Mith Finch.” The thought of anything hot on my tongue right now made me cringe. “My colleague isth on his way as we sthpeak. We’ll get you all sorted.”

She nodded but didn’t make a move to go back inside. Couldn’t blame her, really.

Azren had his face averted now, back on alert. Back on sentry duty, but that smile ... wow.

Noir was on his way, and the house would soon be warded. The little old lady was gonna get the star treatment at no cost, and to be honest, the poor biddy deserved it. That thing, whatever it had been, could have killed her. Question was, why hadn’t it?