The moon remembers her name

ne realized she had return

rically. No

it. The moon hung low and swollen, smeared with a violent red as though an unseen blade had wounded the heavens themselves. Ancient magic, d

s marrow before he s

eeth of monsters. His shirt was unbuttoned, the silk snapping like a whip in the rising wind. Below him, London was a sprawling grid of golden veins-headlights, neon signs

dge of a storm: rain slicking hot asphalt, the metalli

h the smog and the sweat

erfume or the simple smell of skin. It was the scent of a soul he had cataloged in every corner of his mind. Moonl

d the seven hundred years of iron-clad restrai

his knuckles turning white as

hundre

ithered away into ash. He had watched kingdoms rise and crumble into dust; he had seen the invention of the steam engine and the birth of the internet,

asn't just stirring

She's here

. It was half-mad with a longing that had fermented into something feral. Adrian's heart stuttered-no

to-ceiling glass doors, laught

people basking in the reflected glow of his wealth. Models with hollow eyes, heiresses with practiced smiles, and "influencers" whose entire

. Carefully chosen, hi

y at the way his eyes reflected gold instead of brown when the moon grew heavy, or that his pul

They were the white noise he used to drow

n, dar

with arsenic. He didn't need

, a creature who had haunted the peripheries of his life for longer than he cared to admit. She was dressed in a gown o

shoulder. Her touch was elegant, possessive, and entirely unwelcome. "The board i

elene," Adrian said, his voice a lo

sensitive to the shifts in the atmosphere-she knew the laws of the univ

throat was tight with the effort of n

o his neck. "Is it the eclipse? Or have you finally realize

a request. The air around him began

, but she knew the look on his face. She had seen it before, centuries ago, and every time it ended the same way. She with

the party, leaving hi

ixed on the city as memories cl

i

turned the sky into a black shroud. He remembered the smell of burning thatch and the way the

aking in

the universe demanded for a lov

far too old for her young face. He felt her weight in his arms as sh

ng at his leather sleeve. Her lips had been blue with cold, tho

howling in a grief that could level mountains. "I always do," he had promised,

smoke and ruin. A promi

now. The scent of winter jasmine inte

in a library. It would take years of careful observation to be sure. But this? This was a strike of lightning through his very s

ibrated in

. Adrian stared at the screen for a long moment, his hand trembling. He w

message from a number

at the British Museum. The mark i

rld st

so brief that even an immortal might

shards down seventy floors to the pavement below. Somewhere in the distance, a car alarm began to wail. Inside the

dn't hear

ndings. Seven graves, scattered

n eye could track. The women screamed as he passed, a literal rush of wind overturning marble side tabl

ors overridden by the biometric bypass he'd built into

melled of oil and expensive rubber. He ignored the

a helmet. He

ff the concrete walls like a challenge to the gods. He tore

. Traffic parted instinctively before him; it was as if the city itself recognized the apex predator moving through i

use

ey were vaults for things that were meant to be forgotten. Of course, she would be

k had r

reborn with her in every life-was the tether between the

air changed. He smelled it

stagnant water and graveyard dirt. Someone else was watchin

Russell Street entrance. The neoclassical columns loomed stark and white against the bleeding red moon. Police ligh

umans. Too

rees, moving with the silence of a ghost. His

saw

lights of the ambulance bay. The paramedics were working

Ash

lastered to her forehead by the rain. She looked smaller than she had in the 1920s. Younger. Fragile in all the ways that made his ch

ering thing. Adrian felt the rhythm o

dic shouted over the rain. "Her B

eath her skin. None of them noticed the way the shadows seemed to

ian

escent sigil shimmered. It was silver-edged with a violent, bruised re

his soul to hers. Pain lanced through him-sharp,

e yo

rical but its hunger real. Mine. P

o hard his nails drew blood from his palms. "Not yet. We c

ay the cost of rushing this. In the 1700s, he had claimed her too soon, and the shock of his world h

ad ended in a grave. Fi

her eyes defiant even as the smoke filled her lungs. He saw her as the scholar in the 20s, f

was the most powerful being in the city, and

edge of his sensory perimeter

, his head snapp

t, partially hidden by the fog, was a figure. A woman

le

ight dress fluttering in the wind, a cruel, knowing smile on her lips. She didn

e psychic link they shared, echoing in his mind like a funeral bell

e could be across the street in a heartbeat. He could

ng in the air, "and I will show you why the wo

you should be worried about. The Order of the Eclipse has already smel

ulance and vanished into a cloud of rav

his bike, the roar of the engine drownin

as already plotting. And in the center of the storm was a girl who just wa

r. This time, he would burn the wor

chilled his blood. If the curse was older than th

tal gates just as th

ena Ashcroft, the dream was just begin