Astra dusted herself off as the last perp dropped face-first onto the concrete. Another night, another sexual assault stopped just in time.

  She fell into step silently beside Billie, who stood a head taller. His buzz cut looked freshly clipped. His brown eyes flicked between his phone and the surrounding blocks. The street throbbed with neon and patrol sirens.

  Astra had to raise her voice just to be heard. “Why is there a sudden spike in cases?”

  Billie tugged at his grey hoodie, fingers twitchy.

  She stopped. “You know something.”

  He glanced around, then leaned closer so only she could hear. “Rumour is there’s a covert operation running in Alchymia. High level.”

  “Bigger than stopping rapists in alleys?”

  “Yeah. Most of the senior agents got redirected. That’s why we’re cleaning up their mess,” he said, and then, awkward, “And, uh… you look good, by the way. With the dress and uh…”

  She didn’t hear him. Her thoughts had circled back to Lust. The Sin’s influence was growing around the world, wreaking havoc while the Council chased whatever came after. Reacting wasn’t going to cut it.

  “The Council’s hiding something,” she muttered.

  “Yeah. Definitely above our pay grade. So we stay out of it,” Billie said.

  They reached a skyscraper and took the lift up to the rooftop bar. Astra spotted her target, a woman in a red dress with redder lipstick, laughing like she meant it. She lounged at a small round table, swivelling a little, fingertips skimming her date’s arm like he was dessert.

  Dessert.

  Astra scowled. She hadn’t even got that far on her own date night before Billie’s frantic messages blew it up. End this fast, get back to Eydis. That was the plan.

  She slid through perfume-heavy bodies, came up behind the target, and pinched the carotid. The woman went limp before the laughter finished leaving her mouth.

  Billie winced. He never got used to how quick she could end a person’s night, or their whole arcane circuit.

  The target’s date gasped, but Billie was quick to press a tranquilliser to the man’s neck. The man’s forehead thudded the table, pink cocktails spilling across its surface.

  “How many left?” Astra asked.

  Billie raised his voice over the beat. “Two more, for now.” Then, lower, mostly to himself, “Unless whoever’s feeding us names keeps adding to the list.”

  Astra nodded, though something tugged at the back of her neck. She scanned the bar, but nothing looked wrong. Just people being people, close and loud and sweaty.

  Behind her, Billie cleared his throat. “So, after this, I was thinking ramen. I know a place nearby. Good broth. And, uh, you bought the burger last time, so I figured…”

  He drifted into talk of meals and favours and maybe-sort-of dates, but Astra was already elsewhere. The pull was too strong to ignore.

  She crossed the dance floor, bodies parting just enough to let her pass. At the curved pane of tempered glass she set her palm against it, felt the bass running through.

  The night sky lit up. A slim crescent of gold on a rooftop about a kilometre away.

  That power…

  It felt familiar. Not quite like hers, but very close.

  “Handle the rest,” she told Billie. “I’ve got an errand.”

  “I—uh, sure.” Billie’s shoulders dropped, but Astra was already gone into the crowd, silver hair catching flashes of violet and green.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Outside her building, sirens chased each other in circles. They had been wailing for hours. At her desk, Melissa tried to work, but the sound drilled through whatever focus she had left.

  She didn’t know what had kicked this outbreak loose, only that the flu was outpacing forecasts and had the medical system hobbling.

  The Council had roped her into a temporary fix: vials targeted at the Gifted. She had already used one on Natalia, which had been simple. She knew Natalia’s arcane makeup like the back of her own sleep-starved hand.

  A universal vial that covered every affinity in two weeks, though, was fantasy. So she had to prioritise more common ones, such as water, fire, nature and—

  The sirens blared again. Then her phone vibrated. She glared at the screen and groaned.

  Eydis.

  She reached to silence it, paused. What if…

  Natalia’s in trouble?

  “Dr. Le Bleu speaking.”

  “There she is. The ever-elusive doc with the voice like a caffeine crash. Always a pleasure,” purred a voice that should have come with a warning label.

  “I wish I could say the feeling was mutual.” Melissa’s voice was scratchy from disuse. She scowled and cleared her throat.

  There was a dramatic gasp. Melissa ignored it and plowed on. “Is there a problem? Is Nat in trouble?”

  Eydis paused, then, sounding suspiciously close to sincere, said, “She’s fine, doctor. But I need a favour, if you’d be so kind.”

  “And what gave you the idea I’m your personal helpline?” Melissa didn’t hang up. “Call triple zero, unless you’re worried they’ll shine sunlight and you’ll go up in smoke.”

  Eydis chuckled. “The reference eludes me, but… not inaccurate. Light and I aren’t close.”

  Melissa rolled her eyes. One day, she’d prove Eydis was a vampire. One day. “What do you want?”

  “I need a few vials. The ones you’ve been developing.”

  “What—how do you know about those?”

  “I’m Natalia’s friend, remember? I know you’ve been helping her stabilise her mana.”

  “And from that, you figured I’d just hand them over?” Melissa snorted. “It’s experimental. And I’m not Arcana Prime.”

  “I thought we were friends, doc. We even sleep together in the same—”

  “Don’t. Finish. That. Sentence.”

  “Apartment,” Eydis finished anyway, of course. “A friend of mine has taken to growing weeds and emotions. The flu, I mean.”

  Melissa deeply regretted answering the call. She could hear the smirk and seriously doubted the person in question was a friend at all.

  “That narrows it down to half the Gifted population,” she muttered, mostly as a fact-check. “For now.”

  “Well, they’re probably a… Nature affinity. Definitely weepy. It’s all very… tragically chlorophilic.”

  Blue eyes flicked to the vials she had designed for Nature Gifts. The efficacy wasn’t fully tested, but there shouldn’t be side effects. Still…

  “Persuade me.”

  “One coin. Crypto. Direct to your account,” Eydis said.

  “That’s a lot of money. How did you—”

  Eydis’s tone turned serious. “It’s important that my friend stabilises, doc, given that they are Gifted. You know it, I know it. I can hear the sirens through the phone. I only need two vials.”

  The sirens wailed dramatically, almost as if in agreement. Melissa rolled her eyes so hard, her temple complained. She was sure her windows were soundproof, damn it. “It’s honestly baffling that you even have friends.”

  “I share your disbelief,” Eydis replied, unconcerned.

  “Fine. Whatever. Keep your coin.”

  “I knew you liked me.”

  Melissa scoffed. “I like functioning hospitals. Or prisons. Don’t read too much into it. But when do you pick them up?”

  A knock sounded on her office door.

  The doctor frowned. At this hour, the clinic should’ve been empty. How had anyone even gotten into her office?

  “It’s me,” came Eydis’s voice from outside.

  Melissa opened it a crack. “Pretty sure this place requires three keycards and a blood offering to enter.”

  Eydis stood there in a black dress and sheer lace, her pale skin and piercing amber eyes giving her the look of a cover model for Vogue: Vampire Edition. She looked even more vampiric than usual, her skin was definitely paler, not that Melissa noticed Eydis’s complexion or anything.

  She didn’t speak for a moment, which was odd. Normally, by now, she would have tossed out at least three metaphors.

  “Locks are symbolic,” she said at last, dead serious.

  There it is.

  Melissa contemplated slamming the door in her face. But… Natalia. Ugh. She turned back to her desk, grabbed two green vials and a pack of blue ones, and shoved them into Eydis’s hands.

  “Green is for Nature Gifts. Blue is for Natalia. Don’t mix them up like cocktails.”

  Eydis nodded but didn’t move. Her face was strangely neutral. What was weirder than Astra’s smile was Eydis’s lack of expression; the two of them were like puzzle pieces that fit too perfectly together. Wait—what?

  Melissa squinted. “Why are you still here?”

  “I have another critical errand.”

  “And I’m involved… how?”

  Eydis shuffled from one studded leather heel (oh, good taste) to the other, somehow managing an expression of pure, wide-eyed sincerity.

  Melissa, however, heard sirens. Lots of them. “Tell me you don’t need help hiding a body.”

  “Why hide them when you can swallow them?” Eydis said, perfectly serious, then winced, like something had reprimanded her.

  Melissa had 000 half-dialed.

  “Kidding,” Eydis deadpanned. “I’m looking for a kebab shop. I’m lost.”

  Melissa stared. “Come again?”

  Eydis looked genuinely mournful, and then—God help her—let out a tiny, pitiful whine. “Hungwy.”

  Hungwy.

  Not hungry. Hungwy.

  Melissa had to physically stop herself from gaping. “I swear, I’m going to drag you into the sunlight and see what happens.” She pulled out her phone to check Goggle reviews anyway.

  Eydis tilted her head, like she was listening to voices only she could hear. Then, with a look so flat she could’ve been possessed by Astra, she said,

  “I might sparkle tastefully.”

  Melissa muttered a curse in French and kept scrolling.