“And how you planned to tear apart one of our own to further your ambitions for power?” Aldrich added.

  “Don’t forget the blood samples you stole from the lab and handed to the demons,” I drawled.

  “Your sticky fingers are all over the Human Convergence Project,” Wilder said.

  “Just tell us one thing, Julius…” Greer began as the thread wrapped around his chest and inched towards his neck. “Who was in control? The Balan…or you?”

  The Inquisitor’s eyes flickered around the foyer, searching for an ally, but he only found a wall of angry Naturals blocking his path—and a thread of Darkness so potent, it was choking the life from him.

  Now I understood the truth behind the sigil. Markzoth had died, and he’d take out everyone connected with him to protect his end game from the Light. Too bad we’d already found everything we needed to start unravelling his mutations.

  “You dare defy the order of the Inquisitor?” Wainthrope exclaimed, his face reddening.

  “You’re only making things worse for yourself,” Aldrich said.

  Wilder snarled beside me and wrenched on the thread of Darkness. Wainthrope jerked and began to choke.

  “I was in control,” he managed to get out. “I was using him.”

  “You can’t play a demon,” Wilder snapped. “Power hungry—”

  I placed my hand on his arm, silencing him before got to his choice swear words.

  “You think you’re any better?” Wainthrope asked Greer. “Siding with a filthy hybrid and a woman who claims to have touched Arondight? You’re playing with fire, Greer, and you’ll get burned. Who’ll save you then?”

  “The old ways no longer work in this world,” she said, staring down at him. “Welcome to the shadows, Mr. Wainthrope. I hope, for all our sakes, the Codex rules justly.”

  Aldrich brought down his arondight blade, severing the thread. As the Darkness evaporated around Wainthrope, a group of Naturals came forth and grabbed him.

  “Take him to the vaults,” Greer commanded.

  “You’ll regret this, Greer,” he shouted as he was dragged away. “You’ll all regret this!”

  “They always fling around their empty threats when they get caught,” Wilder drawled. “What a waste of breath.”

  Greer looked at him and moved closer. “What happed out there?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  I watched their exchange and my heart leapt with a jealous pang. Shaking my head, I rubbed my side where Markzoth had kicked me—it ached something fierce.

  “Welcome home,” Greer said, her gaze finding mine. “I’m sure you have an eventful story to tell, but for now, you all deserve some rest.”

  “And a shower,” Romy declared.

  Greer smiled. “That too.”

  I lingered as the other’s began to move off, the excitement finally dying down. We’d won, but something still felt incomplete.

  “Where’s Jackson?” Greer asked, standing beside me.

  “Someplace safe,” I replied, hoping I was right. Who knew what the druidess wanted with him.

  She nodded. “Understandable, but please let him know he’s welcome here. I can’t begin to apologise enough for Julius’ actions.”

  “Don’t apologise for him,” I said. “He made his choice all on his own.”

  Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you, Scarlett.”

  I nodded and watched her move off, joining Wilder on the stairs. I was alone again. Despite everything, was that my fate? A mystery wrapped in an enigma, one too difficult to entertain, let alone love.

  Aldrich moved past and patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about the mess,” he said. “We won’t make you sweep it up.”

  I smiled. “Thank goodness for that.”

  Remembering the fuss Wainthrope had made about my arondight blade, I took it out of my pocket and studied the hilt. It wasn’t a coincidence… I didn’t know where the thought had come from, but I was fast learning things happened around this place for a reason that wasn’t always clear.

  “Aldrich.” I caught his arm. Waiting for the others to move away first, I asked, “Back at the assembly, what did Wainthrope mean when he brought up my arondight blade?”

  He glanced at the others before turning back to me. “Your blade has a long history,” he explained, “and a chequered one at that.”

  “But I was under the impression they never had an owner. The blades of the fallen are on the walls of the Sanctum.”

  “Those blades were retired on request of their families,” he explained. “Others were too old to be reintroduced to new recruits. Arondight blades take a long time to forge and the materials have become increasingly difficult to procure. Blades have been known to be passed down through family bloodlines as well. Though, usually the unclaimed go back to the armoury.”

  “Then someone owned mine before,” I stated. “Who?”

  “That’s a story for another time.”

  “Aldrich, please.”

  His forehead creased and after a moment, he took the hilt out of my hands. Turning it over, he studied every inch. It was unadorned and simple, but he seemed to see something more in its sleek design. An untold story.

  After a moment, he said, “It belonged to my sister.”

  My heart leapt and I gasped. If it was now mine, then that meant… I swallowed hard and began to sweat.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. If—”

  “Scarlett, it’s fine. Andromeda disappeared a long time ago.”

  “Andromeda? Like the galaxy?”

  He nodded. “My parents had a thing for the letter A.”

  “You didn’t want to retire it?”

  “She wouldn’t have wanted it to hang on a wall when it could be cutting down demons.” Patting me on the shoulder, he smiled. “I couldn’t think of a better Natural to wield her blade. She’d be honoured.”

  My heart warmed and I nodded. “Thanks, Aldrich.”

  “Go. Get Ramona to check you over and then get some rest. You deserve it.”

  I nodded and walked down the hall, my joints aching. I wondered how many bruises I had.

  “Scarlett?”

  I turned, my gaze meeting Aldrich’s.

  “How did you kill the Balan?”

  I shrugged and ran my hand through my gritty hair. “I don’t know.”

  It was the truth. I was inexperienced and knew next to nothing about using my Light, so whatever I’d tapped into was unknown…along with whatever link I shared with Wilder. I thought about telling Aldrich about it, but something stopped me. It felt too intimate to share.

  Aldrich frowned but nodded, accepting my lack of explanation.

  “Sleep well,” he said, “Natural.”

  By the following evening, the snow had settled in every nook and cranny across London.

  I always marvelled at how it insulated the most minuscule of sounds, hushing the hubbub of its eight million or so residents.

  My mind was racing with more questions than answers. We’d been through so much over the past few days, and it felt as if an entire year had passed. My training, Jackson’s trial, our jail break, Wilder’s safehouse, the druidess, the lab…the Necropolis. So many dangers and revelations.

  But most of all, I wondered about Aldrich’s sister. He’d said she’d disappeared but hadn’t elaborated. It must be hard, not knowing why she never returned. I kind of understood the turmoil it caused for those left behind.

  The air shifted and I huddled into my jacket and scarf. Romy had gifted the woolly purple snood to me that afternoon as an early Christmas present, and I was grateful for the warmth…and her friendship.

  “Hey,” I said, sensing Wilder behind me.

  “Hey yourself.” He sat next to me, dangling his feet over the edge of the roof.

  I leaned my head against my knees and studied his profile. “Not pissed I stole your favourite brooding spot?”

  His lips quirked and he shook his head. “Everything okay?”

  “It’s one of those endings where all the bad guys got what was coming to them but raised a whole new batch of questions without answers.”

  “Don’t you hate those?”

  “Totally.”

  “Welcome to the life of a Natural,” he declared. “Up to the eyeballs in rotting flesh one day, and untangling government conspiracies the next.”

  “Sounds like a binge-worthy TV show.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  I grimaced, remembering how Markzoth had tortured him in the Necropolis. “I should be asking you that.”

  “Don’t dent my pride, Purples. You promised me,” he said wryly.

  All that matters is the mission. His words hadn’t left me, and I doubted they ever would.

  I raised my eyebrows. “Is it any surprise I broke it? I do like sticking my middle finger up at authority figures.”

  He turned his gaze out over the icy city, his breath vaporising. “I never said it,” he began awkwardly, “but…thank you.”

  I raised my eyebrows, knowing it must be hard for him to accept help from others. After so long of being ostracised for being different, he’d expected me to leave him behind. Wilder had to get over it and realise that somebody actually cared about him—weird demon eyes, surly attitude, and all.

  “I can see the wheels turning in that head of yours, Purples.”

  I grunted. “The metaphoric cogs are grinding.”

  “What are you thinking about?”

  There was no one place to begin that made any sense. We were fighting for what we believed in, but Wainthrope believed he was too, and Markzoth. Their versions of right were twisted, but to them, so were ours.

  “You can’t have light without the dark,” I said, watching the city. “There are shadows everywhere. Literal and metaphoric. No one is inherently good, just as no one is inherently bad.”

  Wilder nodded. “We can work together to make the world safe for us all. Naturals, humans—”

  “Do you think the demons would ever settle for peace?”

  He snorted. “History says no. There are things we can’t let go, Purples. Demons are a parasitic species with a single purpose—to consume and destroy. There isn’t any room for anyone else. With the one exception, of course…”

  “Don’t tell me you actually like Jackson now,” I asked, shocked at his one-eighty.

  “I gave the troll doll to Greer,” he said, performing his favourite evasive manoeuvre. “It had all the information from that lab you blew up, and all the names of the humans with suspected mutations.”

  I knew Greer would spearhead the group that would search for them. They’d bring them back to the Sanctum, and Ramona would do her best to stop the mutations from spreading…if it wasn’t already too late. Now that Markzoth was gone, we had a real chance at stopping Human Convergence for good.

  “You have this annoying habit of changing the subject when you don’t want to talk about something,” I said, “it’s blatant and annoying.”

  “Technically you’re still a trainee, Purples. You better watch out, otherwise I’ll request for your probation to be reinstated.”

  I opened my mouth to complain, but he was grinning. For that, he earned himself a slap on the arm, but he should be thankful I didn’t push him off the roof.

  I thought about Jackson then, and the promise I made him.

  Wilder rolled his eyes. “What now?”

  “I’m thinking about the druidess.”

  “Don’t burst all your brain cells. She’ll never give up any of her secrets.”

  I grunted. “Why did she meet with us? I get the feeling this was all part of some cosmic conspiracy.”

  “The druidess allowed us to meet with her because we were different,” he explained. “She was different from her kind, too.”

  I wondered if that’s why she’d lived for so long. Concealing herself in a city rife with supernatural war was dangerous, but also genius.

  “Do you think she’s good or bad?” I wondered out loud.

  “I think she’s in a league of her own.”

  “She knew it was a trap,” I stated. “She knew what we were walking into and didn’t say a thing.”

  “I’m sure she had her reasons.”

  I shook my head. It was useless to try to unravel the mystery of that woman. “You were right about her.”

  “I’m always right,” he quipped.

  “I have to get Jackson back,” I added. “He could help Ramona with the others.”

  “And you made a promise.”

  “You heard that?”

  “I didn’t have too.” He raised his eyebrows. “You kissed him at the safehouse.”

  “It’s not like that between us,” I said, watching him closely. Why would he bring that up? “We’re family. We look out for one another.”

  He didn’t even flinch. “I know.”

  Squashing down my disappointment, I looked out over the city towards Covent Garden.

  “When you killed the Balan, you avenged your parents.” He said it as if the moment should’ve given me closure, but revenge didn’t bring back what was lost. I still didn’t know who they were, let alone where I’d come from.

  My worries must’ve translated to my face because Wilder slid his arm around me and pulled me close.

  “You know who you are now,” he murmured. “If that’s all you know, then—”

  “It’s not enough.” I lay my head on his shoulder, the unfamiliar embrace feeling like the most natural thing in the entire world. “I don’t even understand what I did. That power…”

  “Scarlett,” Wilder sighed, his breath tickling the top of my head, “you weren’t just touched by Arondight. A part of it lives inside you.”

  It was the only explanation that made sense. The way I used my Light, how the Codex called to me, how my Light spoke to Wilder’s, how I was able to heal Jackson and myself, and how I was able to kill a greater demon… I could do things I wasn’t supposed to.

  I ran my fingers over my scar, the burden on my shoulders feeling heavier. Without me, Arondight would never resurface.

  “I made a promise,” I said, peeling myself away from Wilder’s warmth. “I have to go tonight while the demons are still running scared.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  “I think we’ve established that I can do the solo thing and not get skewered anymore.”

  He smirked. “Don’t let all that power go to your head, Purples.”

  “Any tips, boss?” I teased.

  “She’s a druidess, not human.”

  “I know. Her body is a vessel for something else.”

  Wilder looked impressed. “You’ve been studying.”

  “It wasn’t easy. There wasn’t much in the library or the Codex. The Druids are meant to have died out a long time ago, and they were annoyingly cryptic back then, too.”

  “So I hear.”

  “This about me and her,” I said, staring out at the London skyline. “The things she said…” I shook my head.

  Wilder nudged me with his elbow. “Your first solo mission. They grow up so fast…”

  “Smart-arse.”

  He grinned and nodded towards the city. “Go kick her arse, Purples.”

  21

  Seven Dials was shrouded in thick fog.

  Darkness permeated every inch of the twisted crossroads, the red- and silver-tinselled Christmas decorations hanging across shop fronts and street lamps, shimmering through the mist. Snow was piled up on either side of the road, turning brown and mushy in the gutters.

  My hands were thrust deep into my pockets as I walked down the alley, making my way towards the inner courtyard of shops and cafés known as Neal’s Yard. Fairy lights twinkled overhead as I pushed aside the illusion guarding the druidess’s hideout.

  The narrow house was as we’d left it, squashed between the vegan bakery and the organic skincare shop, hidden by an intricate veil of magic. It wasn’t Light and nothing at all like Darkness. It was an intricate kaleidoscope of something far older than anything either side of the war wielded.

  Impatient, I shoved the door open and strode into the living room, swatting a dangling strand of ivy out of the way.

  I was surprised to find Jackson sitting on the couch with the druidess…drinking tea. There were no creepy rituals underway, or torture, or experimentation with those Darkness-infested runes. There was just a pot of English Breakfast and a pair of cups and saucers—and a feeling like they were waiting for me.

  “Scarlett.” Jackson rose to his feet and glanced at the druidess.

  She stared at me, her eyes shining like a rainbow after a rainstorm and sipped her tea.

  “I made a promise,” I said to her, “and I intend to keep it.”

  Setting down her cup and saucer, she shook her head and patted Jackson on the knee. “I knew you’d do it.”

  I glanced at Jackson and he shrugged.

  “The Balan demon is dead,” I confirmed. “We found the lair and its name was useless.”

  “Not useless,” she said, scowling. “Barrier.”

  “I’m sick of your riddles. You knew it was a trap. Why did you trick us?”

  “I can tell you things,” she said, ignoring my question. Wilder warned me, but I’d foolishly hoped she’d give a straight answer for once. “I saw you as a child. Little more than a baby. Violet, lavender, indigo. You poor child, always surrounded by blood and death. Blood and death… Thrust into the world alone. Lost. Always lost…”

  I hesitated. “Did you know my parents?”

  “I knew I couldn’t avoid it,” she muttered. “I knew, but I can try anyway. Try to change it. The future is unwritten, but the past holds all the secrets. All the power. Past losses, reborn futures…”

  “Is she speaking in tongues?” Jackson asked, tilting his head to the side. “I can’t understand a single thing she’s saying.”

  The druidess rose from the couch and shuffled towards me. “It’s time. I waited. Take.” She smiled and opened her arms. “I’m tired. Take.”

  It took me a full minute to realise she was asking me to end her life. “I can’t do that. No, I—”

  “I saw. I knew. Always.”