“Hello, doll,” one of them said, leaning forward as his eyes roamed my body and then my face. His hair was short and blond, his eyes green. He lazily sat back, satisfaction in his features. It put me instantly on edge. “We’ve been watching you work this place. It’s impressive.”

My fake smile faltered, my skin starting to crawl. “Just doing my job.”

“Uh-huh,” the other man snorted, raking a broad hand through his obsidian black hair.

“If you’re doing this well for yourself in this nowhere village, could you even fathom how much more you’d pull as a server in Aristelle?”

At a waft of icy air to my left, I knew that Isabella had arrived. “What good would that do her if she’s bled dry and left in a gutter?” she spat with unrestrained venom.

The men barely glanced her way, their eyes still locked on me.

Phillip stood next to Isabella, winking at me before pinning his stare on the dramatically out of place patrons.

“I don’t know what your parents tell you about Aristelle in your little bedtime stories around here,” the man with the spiky blond hair said. “But the city has never been safer. There’s violence everywhere. There’s only more of it in the city because there’s more people.”

“People?” Phillip sneered. “That’s an interesting spin on the city of vampires.”

“There are more mortals in Aristelle than vampires,” the blond said, his eyes still never leaving mine. “We’re protected. There are rules and laws. There are mortals who give their blood freely, so there’s no need for unnecessary violence. Courtesans, sex workers, blood center volunteers, but also lovers, friends, and those seeking a fleeting thrill.”

Isabella laughed, the sound far too loud and grating. “How much are they paying you to go around spewing that nonsense to the good, hardworking folks of Valentin? As if those demonic abominations care about law and order. Only brainwashed whores give vampires their blood. We had a girl get ripped to shreds just this summer by your little city friends. And if they don’t kill you in the heat of bloodlust, then you’ll get caught in the crossfire when the turned and the born bloodsuckers are going at it.”

“The war has been over for many years. I know that news moves slowly around here,” the blond man said, his words laced with condescension that sent Isabella into a fury.

She shook her finger and opened her mouth, but Phillip groaned and stopped her. He closed his hand around hers. “Come on, Izzy. This is boring.” He glanced over at me. “I have no doubt Scarlett can handle these city folk just fine without running off to be a vamp’s chew toy.”

I bristled at both Phillip’s words and the way they moved from his lips as he eyed me. Isabella looked from him to me and then quickly stomped off, dragging him with her.

My focus returned to the men.

“You’re different from them,” the dark-haired one said. “You have a mind of your own. You know the effect you have on people, and yet you pretend you have no idea while you use it to your advantage. That will serve you well. You don’t belong here. You belong somewhere infinitely better—somewhere full of life, adventure, luxury, and pleasure.”

I reached for their empty glasses, my smile broadening but my eyes growing sharp and narrow. I spoke softly and slowly, so that they had to lean forward to hear each and every word. “If you want to manipulate me, you’d better try harder than that.”

Surprise crossed both men’s features, but I had a feeling I’d only piqued their interest even more than I already had.

I turned away before they could respond. These men were dangerous, just like their vampire city.

But were they more dangerous than the source of the itchy, hot sensation on the back of my neck and the shivers down my spine? Every year or two, I felt this same scorch, around this same time during early autumn. This year, it was clearer than ever.

The shadows in the tavern became darker, the loud voices more sinister, the eyes of the men more leering. My body flushed with heat, as if I were suddenly a rabbit on the run from a wolf’s snapping jaws, prey in a sea of predators.

I was being watched. Not just by the human men from Aristelle. By something stronger, darker, and more ruthless, something that awakened all of my buried pieces and threatened to lay them bare and spread for all to see.

3

RUNE

Past

The next time I returned to Crescent Haven, I didn’t go to any of my usual spots to think and mourn and drudge up old ghosts. My mental masochism, as it were. That should’ve been my first warning. My first inkling that something had gone terribly wrong.

No, I went to find Little Flame. I wanted to see that her fire still burned bright. I needed to see it, as if my entire perception of reality and myself hinged on her unrelenting aliveness.

She hadn’t drunk my blood, so there was no way for me to locate her without magick. I’d have to rely merely on the memory of her blood’s unique scent, like summer rain and sweet, dark fruit.

Three years had passed since I’d first heard her soul-piercing, angelic voice. It didn’t take long for me to locate her, as her scent was all over the village. It added vibrancy to the droll gray buildings, cracked cobblestone, and overworked and underappreciated mortals heading home from work.

There was something different about this child. It was as though she broadcasted herself outward, pulling me toward her just as much as I was seeking her out.