Kat shot straight out of bed as the most horrendous noise filled the room. A blaring, urgent siren. “Gaia, what is that?”

“I don’t know. It almost sounds like an Amber Alert.”

Julius stood next to the bed, wearing jeans but nothing else, looking good enough to eat, but far too serious as his brows furrowed over his reddened eyes and he glanced around the room.

“Hang on.” She got up, pausing as the room spun, and wrapped the sheet around her to make the track across the room to her closet. As soon as she opened the door, the sound got louder. He was right, it was coming from her phone. She pulled on a sweater and slipped on a skirt, then grabbed her phone. It was a Nephilim alert. She’d read that the government was doing this, but had hoped to never hear one. She turned off the alarm and put her phone back, slouching against the wall. She put her hand to her head. Why did she feel so . . . strange? Almost numb. Disconnected from everything around her.

“What is it?”

“Nephilim are in the area.” A shiver shook her. “We’re safe though, my shield will—”

She let out a scream as he hauled her over his shoulder. He strode across the room, set her down in the bathroom and shoved the door closed in her face. What the heck? “Jules?”

Something heavy scraped across the floor and rammed into the door on the other side.

“Is that the dresser?” She wriggled the door handle. Pounded on the door. “Jules? We’re safe. You don’t have to do this.”

His voice came through the door, “I came from downstairs, butterfly. The buzzing is gone. There’s no shield.”

Kat froze. She lifted her hand, focused on it, and conjured fire. Nothing happened. It was a simple spell. A spell they learned as children. “Oh, Gaia. Oh, no.” Her Magic was gone. That’s what she was feeling . . . or not feeling. She couldn’t feel the Earth’s energy. Julius’ energy. It was like floating in a void. One of her senses gone.

This couldn’t happen yet. Not now. She’d thought she had time. She still needed to switch Julius and Julian. She still needed to get them to Machon. “Julius Crowley, don’t you dare set one foot outside this house.”

Wood scraped against wood. He’d opened the drawer. What was he…? The Guardian blade. He was armed.

“Please, baby, don’t do this. You can’t go out there, it’s not safe.”

“Haven’t you heard, butterfly? I’m the Harbinger, the most feared, most dangerous male on two planets.”

Her head spun. Dearest Gaia. “Jules, what exactly do you remember?”

His voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear him. “I remember I’m guilty.”

“No! You’re not! I swear to you—”

Something heavy hit the dresser and she jumped. “You should’ve warned me. You should’ve prepared me. Instead . . . .” He hit something else, the thud reverberating through the door. “Goddamn you, you made me hope.”

His footsteps faded. Where was he going? What was he thinking? He might leave. He might hurt himself.

“Jules!” She twisted the knob and rammed her shoulder against the door as hard as she could. The door didn’t budge, but her shoulder throbbed. Oh, Gaia. She had no Magic. She was going to have to relearn how to do everything without the aid of her sixth sense.

It was boring in the tower. There was no trouble to cause. No host to torment. Azazel rammed the wall and the crack sealed itself again. But it was his day to be noisy. Only about an hour left until midnight.

Tomorrow, he’d be gone.

He kept an eye on the Nephilim he’d sent to Carnation. They were taking too long to get to the witches’ house, though. Killing humans that meant nothing.

His gaze turned to the Citadel and the rest of the coven. They were trying to trick him again. With their shadows and spells. Hiding things. Keeping things from those who should know all.

Now that the Original was here, the Beacon and the Shadow, they thought they could do whatever they wanted. They thought they could hide from those who should see all and hear all.

They would discover they were wrong.

They were only two parts of a whole, the worse they could do to him had already been done. They imprisoned him. A giggle escaped. Stupid witches.

They needed the Knight to destroy him and that poor bastard would be ash long before he remembered anything important. He’d made sure of that, filling his head with inconsequential things: movies, and shows, and human gossip.

He turned his gaze inward to his visions. Leopold would be here soon. He should’ve already left his little rat hole in the sewer. He was taking too long, doting on that pathetic wife of his. Tucking her into bed.

He called to the Nephilim standing guard at Leopold’s door. The Nephilim stalked through the sewer to Leopold and dragged the vampire away from his wife. Leopold would arrive within the hour.

The bitch would be dead by daybreak.