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The woman in the mask stepped closer. “The House requires proof of ownership. Permanent exhibits must be sealed.”

I didn’t understand what she meant until she handed me the knife.

It was small, silver, the blade no longer than my palm. The handle was warm, like it had been waiting in someone’s hand.

“No.” I dropped it. The blade clattered against the stone. “I’m not doing that.”

“You already did.” The woman’s voice was flat, emotionless. “You delivered her. You made her believe she had a choice. Now you finish it.”

“I won’t.”

The House’s purr turned into a growl. The walls began to close, the ceiling lowering, the air thickening until I could barely breathe. The guests pressed against the glass, their faces eager, their mouths open.

Claire was still struggling in my arms, her voice hoarse from screaming. “Please. Please don’t.”

The woman picked up the knife and pressed it into my hand. My fingers closed around the handle without my permission, my body moving under the House’s control.

“I’m sorry,” I said again.

Claire’s eyes locked onto mine. “Don’t.”

I pulled her against me, one arm around her waist, the other bringing the knife to her throat. She went still, her breath shallow, her pulse hammering against the blade.

“No,” she whispered. “Please.”

I slit her throat.

The blood came fast, hot, spraying across my chest and arms. Claire made a wet, choking sound, her hands scrabbling at the wound, her body convulsing. I held her as she died, felt her weight go slack, felt the warmth of her blood soaking into my clothes.

Guests applauded.

The woman in the mask took the knife from my hand and wiped it clean. “The House thanks you for your service.”

I stood there with Claire’s body in my arms, her blood pooling on the floor, her eyes still open and staring at nothing.

The House had claimed her.

And I’d been the one who delivered her.

Chapter 11

Khaos

“CLOSER” BY KINGS OF LEON

Iheard her coming before she reached the door.

Wet footsteps. Ragged breathing. The particular rhythm of someone who’d been running from something that didn’t need to run to catch them. Rook had given her a head start, which meant he’d broken protocol, which meant Malachi’s plan was falling apart faster than anticipated.

The chaos would make better records than order ever did.

Leaning back in my chair, I watched the archive door swing open. Zinnia stepped through, soaked to the waist, her mask pushed up onto her forehead, her eyes scanning the room with the kind of suspicion that told me she’d already figured out this place wasn’t safe.

She was smarter than most guests who made it this far.

The archives were never safe.

“Close the door,” I said.