It was an unsettling sight.
I might never see her again. I don’t want to remember her like that. He touched his fingers together, still wet from her tears, wonderingly.
I want to remember this.
Nox walked back toward the doors of the club, probably for the very last time.
By the time he had finally made it out, there was nothing left of Sirene. He watched the firefighters saturate the framework and the remaining roof, if only to keep the fire from spreading to nearby buildings.
Mortal fires, Mortal firefighters. They were remarkably good at their job. Too bad they wouldn’t remember any of it tomorrow.
A black SUV pulled up to the curb behind him.
The tinted window rolled down, and Silas Ravenwood stared back at him from underneath his fedora. He glanced at what was left of the club. “Hope you’ve got insurance, kid.”
You just have to bluff one more hand.
For her.
Nox thought about his mother, and the night he found out his father was dead. He thought about every terrible thing that had ever happened in his miserable life. Then he remembered the one thing that was even more painful—the way he’d felt when he thought of Ridley in chains, just like his mother in a cage.
And the way he felt now.
Totally and completely empty.
Nox raised his bloodshot eyes to meet Silas’ empty ones. “What do you want, Silas?” He gestured at the club. “I’m out. I’ve got nothing left for you to take.”
Silas lit a cigar and climbed out of the car. He walked over to Nox and brushed the ash off the shoulder of Nox’s burnt shirt. “I hate hearing you talk like that, kid. There’s always something left to take.”
Fear shot through Nox’s veins.
Don’t react.
The Incubus slung his arm around Nox’s neck, then tightened it.
Nox struggled against him, fighting for breath.
“Did you think I’d fall for this piss-poor act of yours? I know you let that little bitch go.” Silas tightened his grip, cutting off the air Nox had left. “You’re a sucker, Gates, just like your old man. Threw your life away on a Siren who won’t live long enough to benefit from all that misguided devotion.”
Silas’ driver opened the back door, and Silas tossed Nox into the car. For an older Incubus, he had an iron grip. Dealing in other people’s powers your whole life will do that for you, Nox thought as the door slammed on him. I should know.
Nox laughed at the irony. He had more in common with Silas Ravenwood than he’d ever imagined.
Air tore through his lungs, and he choked on every breath. Nox knew Silas Ravenwood was going to kill him—and enjoy doing it. But his future didn’t matter to him anymore.
Because Nox had seen hers, in the third and final vision. The last time he’d looked at the last days of Ridley Duchannes’ life.
Let her have today. Leave tomorrow to the angels.
There was always more Darkness.
Lennox Gates knew that better than anyone. Whether you were pushing the Wheel or it was headed straight for you, Darkness always found you in the end.
He just hoped he was the only one who knew it.
Nox closed his eyes as the car started to move.
He was going to pass out.
I should have told her how I felt about her, the first time I had the chance. That’s my only regret. All those years ago, when we were kids.
On that beach in Barbados.
The first day I met the only person in the world who would ever be able to understand me. The girl who knew what it felt like to do the things I could do.
I should have told her.
Nox blacked out before he could remember why he hadn’t.
AFTER 
Fade to Black
The road out of New York unrolled quickly, the same way they’d come. Except this time, Lucille Ball sat in the front seat, between the Caster and the quarter Incubus, purring.
“What is wrong with that cat? It’s like she has no idea we’re on the lam.” Ridley was annoyed.
“She doesn’t. She’s a cat.”
“Lucille Ball is as big a gossip as the Sisters,” Ridley said. “She knows everything. We’re on the run from a bunch of Caster Underground lowlifes. The apartment isn’t safe. The city is worse. Probably most of the country is full of Silas Ravenwood’s thugs. That cat should not be purring.”
Ridley was twitching enough for them both. She didn’t care if she ever saw a city again. All she knew was they had each other, and they were alive.
But for how long?
“Stop lookin’ over your shoulder,” said Link.
“I can’t help it if I don’t want to die,” said Rid. “And it feels like I’m—like we’re being watched.”
“You’re not gonna die. Well, I mean, you are. We all are. But not yet.” Link accelerated, all the same. “If Nox did his part, Silas Ravenwood has no idea where we are or where we’re headed—and the rest of the band is long gone.”
Ridley glanced out the window. She didn’t want to think about Nox and what he was or wasn’t doing. She didn’t want to think about what he’d given up by staying behind. “We can’t hide from Silas forever.”
“Speak for yourself. I’m great at hidin’. Last year, Principal Harper couldn’t find me for the better part of a semester. It’s just one a my many gifts.” Link winked. Ridley knew it was true. Plus, Link had been hiding most of his life from his own mother, long before that. By now, she figured, he was as good with invisibility as Savannah Snow was with visibility.
“Principal Harper isn’t Silas.” Ridley was doubtful. But Link was starting to calm her down, smoothing out her rough spots, like he always did.
“Maybe. But Silas also isn’t the most powerful Blood Incubus of all time. Maybe we can ditch him. Maybe we can buy ourselves some time.”
Until Abraham gets involved again, Ridley thought. Which I hope is never.
“So what now?” She looked at him. Back in the Beater once again, where everything that had to do with Link began and ended. Where Lena had met Ethan, now that she thought about it. The Beater had seen it all. It was a wonder the thing could still move.
Link looked sideways at her. “What do you mean, what now?”
“We can’t go back to New York.”
“No, ma’am. Not unless you’re fine with a permanent stop at His Garden of Perpetual Peace,” said Link. “Then we could haunt just about anywhere we felt like it. Seein’ as we’d be dead.”
“Stop joking around. I’m serious. You have no idea what you’re dealing with here. It might as well be a Caster death sentence. We’re done. And nobody will ever hire you again. Forget Sirensong. You can kiss your whole music career good-bye.” Please, she thought desperately. Please, please, kiss it good-bye.
Link tapped the wheel. “Aw, Chicken Wing.”
Ridley practically screamed. “Don’t. Call. Me. That.”
He grinned, ignoring her. “We’re only done in New York, darlin’. Weren’t you listenin’ to me all those other times? When I told you how all those bands made it big without ever settin’ foot in New York?”
She just looked at him. “You’re crazy. You know that?”
“Hey, I may not have a band, but I have you, don’t I?”
“Don’t you always?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”