Even without a devil’s hearing, the warden, pacing toward them, must have heard the bitter accusation, but Fane didn’t protest.
“We have to call the police,” he said. “Daniel’s death can’t go unreported, but we have all the evidence we need of a robbery gone wrong.”
“Except they didn’t take anything,” Sidney murmured. “Just a life.”
Fane glanced back at Nanette, tucked under Sera’s arm. “I forbid her from seeing you, but she said the league could be our salvation.” His lips curled in a sneer. “She couldn’t have been more wrong. Get out, and take the bones with you.”
“Don’t leave her alone,” Alyce said softly. “There is more than one kind of verge.”
Fane gave her a vicious look that set her back a step. “If only you demons had stayed on your side of it.”
Sidney tensed, but Alyce clenched the back of his shirt. “No more fighting.”
Sera paused beside them, her hazel eyes bleak.
Nanette listed against her, as pale as if her blood had drained with her husband’s. “I’ve healed dozens in this place, but I didn’t even know he was out here, dying.” Her voice wavered. “You would have known, you talyan. Your souls are bound.” She raised her red-rimmed gaze to Alyce. “I didn’t even have a chance to help you.”
Fane pulled her away from Sera. “Save your healing for yourself, ward.”
Nanette shook her head. “That’s not how it works.” She looked down at her hands, half spread and empty in front of her, as if she didn’t know what to do with them. No golden light spiraled between her fingers now.
Sidney retrieved a thick black plastic bag from Fane’s van, and the four talyan ghosted past the church office where the warden was saying into the phone, “Yes, I’m sure he’s dead. Now send a fucking patrol car.”
Alyce tried to focus on their gruesome task, but Nanette’s quiet sobs filtered through the unlit church like incense smoke.
Archer, the dead djinn-men’s weapons propped over his shoulder, herded them up the instant the last bone was bagged. “Out. Now. I hear a siren.”
Sera drove. She pulled over to avoid a black and white car flashing its malice-red lights, hastening back the way they had come. Alyce looked down at the plastic bag and the shining blades jumbled behind Sidney’s legs. She pulled her feet up onto the seat and snugged the hem of her frock around her cold toes.
She traced the hard, squared edges of the buckle that held her strapped to the seat. Under her finger, the invisible internal mechanisms latched together, holding fast. Fane had looked at her as if she were the opposite: ragged edged, dangerous, and ready to fly apart.
And they were right.
Had been right. But now she had seen the place where evil came. She had stood with the other talyan against that evil.
This was why she was still here—to see that nothing set foot over the verge ever again. Or if it did, that it didn’t get far enough to hurt anyone. All the frantic screaming through the years would finally make sense.
She half listened while Archer made a phone call, wrapping up the conversation with, “No question, this is bad.”
After, Sidney quizzed Sera about the verge. She explained how a terrible lone djinn-man had used the power of imprisoned souls to rip his own hell-bound spirit from the Veil, tearing a pathway to the tenebraeternum realm of demons.
“Possession has always been a trade-off for demons,” Sidney mused. “A demon matched to a vulnerable human soul is free of the tenebraeternum, but some of its powers are muted by human flesh.”
Sera tilted her head thoughtfully. “The verge pinpoints a pure demonic source. If the djinn-men start working together against us, they could have the power to reenact the First Battle.”
“And make it the Last Battle.” Archer’s voice dropped to a dire octave.
Alyce shivered at the faint echo of his teshuva. “That would be very bad.”
“I would say unimaginably catastrophic,” Sidney said, “but very bad will do.”
She bumped her knees together restlessly. The whys and hows and how-bads did not matter. She knew what had to happen next. “Take me to your league.”
Sidney crossed one arm over his chest and propped his chin on his other fist. “After what just happened, Liam is going to have a lot to deal with. Maybe now isn’t the best time for the league to meet you.”
“Westerbrook,” Sera said with asperity, “the talyan are immortal, but they know better than most that death is always waiting. They’re not going to want to wait to meet her.”
“Maybe Ecco would disagree,” Alyce said.
Sera pursed her lips. “Hard to tell with him sometimes.”
“I will say I’m sorry,” Alyce promised. “I do not want to be alone anymore.” She put her hand over her throat, trying to keep her voice steady. “I don’t want to be djinni.”
“Oh, hon.” Keeping one hand on the wheel, Sera reached back over the seat.
To take Sera’s hand, Alyce loosed her death grip on the release button at her side. What a pleasure it was to touch and not draw ichor in black gouts. She smiled at the other woman.
Sidney slouched, and the contents of the bag at his feet clacked with his restive movement. “I don’t know.”
“It’s not up to you,” Archer said. “Just take notes.”
From the hard clench of Sidney’s jaw, Alyce feared he’d launch himself over the seat to get at the talya male. Sera clicked her tongue and faced forward.
When they reached the warehouse neighborhood, the afternoon light was failing, and shadows spread from the alleys as if they’d just been biding their time. Alyce peered up at the five-story warehouse where she’d found Sidney. It sat curb to curb, alone on its block. Its black panes of unlit glass reflected the end of the day without revealing its own secrets.
“At-One headquarters,” Sera said. “Stronghold of the Chicago league. Alyce, you’ll be our fourth female. At this rate, we’ll have a volleyball team by next summer.” She shuttled her gaze to Sidney. “You can be Bookkeeper and scorekeeper.”
She drove around to the back of the building, pausing to let Archer hop out to open the gate. As they pulled through, the steel wire rattled closed behind them with the same ominous finality as the bones.
Sidney got out and held the car door open for her. “Alyce, if you’re not ready …”
“I’m finally ready.” The heavy metal trash box where she’d tossed Ecco sat askew. As she shoved it back into place, it screeched across the concrete and loose gravel.
No one commented about the blood on the steps.
As if they crossed some invisible boundary, she felt the prickle of the devil forces down her spine. Welcoming. Terrifying. And she was one of them.
Archer leaned down to put his hand on the rolling door. “Ready?”
She shifted from foot to foot, wishing they’d stop asking, and glanced back at Sidney who pushed his spectacles higher. A closed book would tell her more with its cover. Didn’t he want her here?
Too late. Archer yanked up, and the metal slats rolled back with a hollow roar. A scent, bright and sharp as lightning, spilled out over them.
Inside, the talyan waited.
Sidney stepped forward, his body half in front of hers. “Alyce, this is Liam Niall. He leads the Chicago talyan.”
Liam Niall was dark-haired like Archer. When he inclined his head, the shaggy locks revealed the black devil mark at his temple.
Sidney continued. “And Jilly, his mate.”
Alyce looked away from the Asian woman, only a little taller than herself. “His mate?”
A third taller woman swept back the wild tangle of her sandy hair. “Bookkeeper’s got it wrong; he’s her mate.” She put her hand on her outthrust hip.
The one-armed man Alyce recognized from her first encounter with Sidney hooked the woman’s elbow. “They are each other’s.”