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Summary

A web of secrets. Bloodthirsty demons. A new nightmare.

Humans are going missing all over the city. Bloodthirsty shadow demons are attacking, and the Brotherhood want to return to the old ways to control the chaos.

Digging deeper into these sinister new threats, Rosalind once again joins forces with Caine. But the sexy incubus has been keeping some major secrets from her—secrets that hold clues to her own history. And as Rosalind uncovers the truth about herself, she realizes she has to risk her sanity if she wants to save humanity.

Chapter 1

F or a prison, it was very pretty. Long grass and wildflowers tickled Rosalind’s bare ankles, and the sun setting over the cemetery lawns streaked the steel-blue sky with marigold and pumpkin.

But it was still a damn prison—she had Caine to thank for that.

Rosalind looked down at the skull in her hands. White fungus webbed the bony surface, and her
Rouge Dior
fingernails stood out against it like fat drops of blood. Gilded by the dying light, it all looked strangely beautiful.

Even from her prison, at least she got to watch the sunset every night. So what if she’d never envisioned her life turning out this way—trapped in a cemetery, clutching part of a human skeleton? At least the golden light made her feel like a normal human again—for fifteen or twenty minutes.

Her fingers trembled, and she tightened her grip on the skull.

Okay, she
nearly
felt normal. The eight cups of coffee she’d been drinking daily had her a little jazzed up.

But she needed that caffeine rush, like birds needed wings. The fact was, she couldn’t deal with her nightmares anymore. She’d do anything to stay awake as long as she could. Two hours of sleep a night meant only two hours of seeing Caine lying half-dead on the Chambers floor, two hours of witnessing her insane twin sister trying to burn her to death in the Chambers.

The down side, of course, was that she was just about on the wrong side of sane right now. And sometimes, her dreams broke through her waking hours in terrifying flashes.

So she had to find ways to fill her waking hours, too. While Orcus slept all day, she worked through the little tasks the reaper left out for her: rearranging spellbooks, crushing herbs, selling poultices and bones to mages outside the mansion.

She tried not to think about Caine, tried not to let herself stew in resentment. But when she saw him again they were going to have a little talk about the magical wards he’d put up.

She let out a long sigh, crossing the grass. Two days after she’d arrived at Abduxiel Mansion, she’d awoken to find Orcus hunched over a yellowed piece of paper. Turned out it was a note from Caine, reporting two things: one, he’d taken Tammi to another safe house, for reasons he didn’t bother explaining; and two, he’d sealed Rosalind in to Abduxiel Mansion for her own good. He’d thrown a warding spell around the place and swanned off into the night. Apparently, Rosalind was “impulsive” and “couldn’t be trusted.”

So here she was, hawking skull fungus and doing anything she could to avoid her dreams.

She leaned against one of the tombs—an enormous sphinx statue, its surface stippled with sage-green moss. Sighing, she slid down the cool marble. Spring’s rich scent hung in the air, and the breeze caressed her skin.

She let her eyelids drift close. Immediately, another image flickered behind them: Malphus, hanging half-dead in one of the Brotherhood’s prisons.

Her eyes snapped open again.
Nope. Don’t think you can ever relax again, Rosalind. Rookie mistake.

The sound of footfalls caught her attention and she rose, peering around the sphinx’s side. The sun had dipped behind the oak trees, the sky darkening to a slate gray. A man was walking toward her, silhouetted by the setting sun—tall, broad shoulders, strong arms. Her heart skipped a beat.
Caine?
That incubus was her ticket out of this magical prison.

Barefoot, she crossed the grass, a cool wind ruffling her hair. But as the figure stalked closer, her stomach sank. The man didn’t move with Caine’s preternatural grace, and his hair was a dusty blond. By the faint magic flickering around him, she could tell he was a mage, but not quite as powerful as Caine.

He paused just a few feet from her and narrowed his brown eyes. “I was expecting Orcus.”

“Orcus is sleeping.” She ran her painted nails over the skull’s surface. “You’re here for this, I take it?”

He smelled like a mountain wind—granite, snow, and pine. “Complete with the night god’s fungus, unless Orcus is trying to cheat me.”

She forced a smile. “Of course it has fungus. Everyone needs skull fungus.” She hadn’t been expecting someone so young and cute, with a strong jaw and an athletic body. All the other mages who’d come to buy herbs had been withered crones.

But when her gaze flicked to his strong arms, her Hunter training kicked in.
Would I be able to take him in a fight if it came down to it?
Against most humans, her training gave her pretty good odds, but he had muscle and heft on his side. Part of her actually
wanted
to see how those odds would turn out—to feel the thrill of a fight again, to feel alive. If he attacked, she could grab him by the hair and bash his head against—

“Something wrong?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

She sucked in a sharp breath.
Definitely too much caffeine. And that’s how screwed up I’ve become. I meet a cute guy, and within thirty seconds, I’m envisioning smashing his skull against a gravestone.
“Nothing wrong. Sorry. It’s just—I’ve been trapped here, and my nerves are a little frazzled. Way too much coffee. And honestly, two weeks in a cemetery with only a reaper for company makes a person restless, you know?”

“Did you say you’re trapped here?”

“Pretty much. There’s a warding spell around us. Luckily for you, it’s only designed to trap me.”

“Ah. I thought I noticed the rush of an aura.”

“You’re a mage, I take it?”

“Yes, I’m a philosopher.” He pulled out a silver coin, ready to exchange it for the skull. “Which is why I need that skull.”

She cocked her head, her curiosity piqued. “A
philosopher
?”

“It’s what we call mages where I’m from—Maremount.”

Her stomach swooped at the reference to her homeland, and she tightened her grip on the skull. She wasn’t letting him leave without answering a few questions first. Not only did she want to know what was going on in Boston, but this could be her chance to learn a bit about Maremount. This guy’s visit was the most interesting thing to happen for weeks. “Maremount,” she repeated.

“Right.” He held out a hand expectantly. “And I’ll be using that skull fungus for a powerful protection spell. There are dangerous forces out there now. I’m not sure what they are, but something sinister is floating on the wind.”

She inhaled deeply. “Before I give you the skull, what can you tell me about what’s going on in Cambridge and Boston? Any news with the Brotherhood, or any rogue mages?”

Sighing, he rolled the silver coin between his fingers, the movements rhythmic, almost hypnotic. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

What she really wanted to know was what the hell had happened to Miranda. “Okay. Have you heard anything about a crazy mage running around the streets of Cambridge? A girl who looks exactly like me?”

“A crazy mage who looks just like you?” He cocked his head. “Are you talking about yourself, by any chance? Can I just buy the skull? I have—”

Irritation flared, and she grabbed his arm, nearly dropping the skull. “No. I’m not crazy. I have a twin sister, but she ran off with the Brotherhood.”
Calm down, Rosalind. You’re going to freak him out.
She loosened her grip on his arm. If she was hoping to dispel his impression that she was nuts, clutching his arm like a maniac wouldn’t help.

He frowned. “Why on earth would a mage run away with the Brotherhood?”

Good question
. “I don’t know. I guess… She was in one of their prisons, which was my fault, and then it seemed like they’d converted her or something. Like they’d tortured all the sanity out of her.”

She caught his subtle shift away from her. “What do you mean, it was
your
fault she was imprisoned?”

Seven hells. We’re going to delve into all my dysfunction here.
At least it was good to have another human to talk to for once. “I used to be a Hunter with the Brotherhood. I used to hunt mages like you, but then it turned out I have magical abilities, and now the Brotherhood want to light me on fire.” If there was a better way to phrase that, her brain was too fried to think of it right now. “I didn’t know she was my sister when I turned her in to the Brotherhood. I just sensed her aura—the salty taste, the blue color. And then a couple of weeks ago, I think I sensed her aura around here, but I couldn’t get to her. Not with the ward up.”

He shook his head apologetically. “I haven’t heard anything about your sister. I’m sorry. I’ll come back to let you know if the Brotherhood announce anything. There’s so much chaos going on out there. It’s hard to figure out what’s going on.”

Her throat tightened
. I’m so out of the loop.
“What do you mean?”

“Humans have been going missing all over Boston and Cambridge. People are panicking.”

“I hadn’t heard that. No one knows what’s happening to them?”

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