Page 50

"Define good." A rasp of exhaustion and cigarette smoke colors the air around us. "Because I've got information, but you're not going to like it."

I turn away from the lake and head toward the far wall. "Hit me."

"Remember that message you sent when this whole shitstorm started? Asked me to keep my ear to the ground about your masked friends? I've been digging through old paranormal incident reports, cross-referencing them with missing persons cases."

"And?"

"The coven is strategically uniting these specific bloodlines. They are building toward something monumental." His tone becomes more serious than I've heard in months. "And this blood moon is a purely magical creation, Rene. The coven's power is actively warping the lunar orbit, forcing this celestial alignment weeks ahead of schedule. Human news stations are losing their minds—astronomers are reporting it's lingering in the sky and turning red. Word through some of my underground sources says the coven is holding it in stasis. It won't peak until you're in their hands, and when it does, they're planning the mother of all rituals."

My stomach drops. Bleeding moons amplify celestial power exponentially—what would normally be impossible becomes devastatingly achievable. "How massive are we talking?"

"City-wide massive, maybe worse. I've got sources saying they've been surveying underground sites across the city for months. Infrastructure nobody's used in decades is suddenly getting foot traffic."

I consider the underground sites. My blood runs cold as the geography maps itself in my head—every location Nolan's describing sits along the same ley line convergence beneath Chicago's oldest paranormal district. Chicago's oldest paranormal settlement sits directly above a convergence of underground tunnels—the same tunnels where I found those ancient carvings depicting my ancestors sealing away the entity.

"Nolan, please tell me you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

"The ritual chamber they're planning to use? It's directly beneath Blackhearth Avenue. Right under the inner sanctum of the district, positioned at the center of that lost underground city." His inflection cuts with the chilling finality of someone delivering a death sentence. "There are numerous tunnels leading to it, forming a massive subterranean web. One of the main arteries has already collapsed, meaning they'll have to funnel people through the northern access point. Whatever they're trying to accomplish, they need the power convergence point that sits right there."

I lean against the wall and feel the rough texture of concrete through my shirt. "The convergence point where my family's seal is strongest."

"Bingo. And if they're planning this for the blood moon..." He has no need to finish that sentence. During this type of moon, with that much concentrated power, they could shatter the ancient prison that's held the entity for centuries.

"How many people live in that district?"

"A couple thousand people live there, maybe more. That includes witches, shifters, vampires, and humans who know about us. They are all packed into about six square blocks." The cigarette crackles as he inhales. "If this thing goes sideways, more than only the district will suffer."

The sheer magnitude of it crashes over me. Thousands of innocent people are living their lives, totally unaware that a centuries-old nightmare is about to erupt beneath their feet. Children attend the paranormal schools there. Families chose that district specifically because it felt safe.

"Any idea where exactly beneath Blackhearth?"

"Still working on that. But Rene, whatever you're thinking of doing, don't do it alone. This is bigger than only you now."

The line goes dead before I can formulate a reply, and I can only stare at the phone screen as it fades to black.

There is less than a week until the crimson moon takes over. In merely a few days, the coven will unveil an objective of such magnitude that its effects will resonate far beyond the paranormal district, reaching every corner of the city.

And the key to stopping it lies buried in my bloodline.

The eerie quiet of the room hangs like a guillotine, my thoughts grinding to a halt against the mounting gravity of the decision taking shape. My bag lies open on the floor, half-filled with essentials and the few personal items that feel important enough to lug into the unknown. The contents include fresh clothes and charm stones. I also pack the pocketknife that has saved my life too many times to count. As I pack each item, a part of me struggles against how irrevocable it all feels.

Leaving means something different now.

What started off as survival or disappearing has now turned into stepping away from connections formed during this madness. I have to say goodbye before any emotional ties become unmanageable. With those bonds, the risks escalate beyond control.

I pause, swallowing against the lump forming in my throat. In another life—one without ancient entities and a target painted across my back—maybe this could have been something real. But I cannot afford that kind of thinking right now.

Footsteps sound behind me—quiet but purposeful—and there’s no mistaking who stands just beyond that thin threshold.

"Where exactly are you planning to go?" Darius keeps his inquiry low, his gaze alive, an intuitive clarity seeing right through me, rendering magic unnecessary.

The words that spill from between my teeth taste wrong the moment I speak them. "To find Sybil. Stop this before Chicago burns."

His silence speaks volumes, eyes searching every piece of intent I hold. When he steps into the room, his overwhelming presence fills it—a wall of muscle and steel mingling with resolute conviction. The walls he keeps up tremble visibly, fragile beneath the weight of what we’ve shared.

"You think you're the best chance against them without backup?" He gestures toward the crumpled map on the bed, the scrawled notes outlining possibilities versus realities. "Because last I checked, it was both of us holding them off."

I drop the bag, the contents spilling across the floor like scattered pieces of a life I'm trying to abandon. "Look at Kellan lying in there torn apart by magic meant for me. Look at that family we rescued from the wreckage tonight—a little girl who'll probably have nightmares for months because I couldn't stay hidden."