Prologue

PROLOGUE

SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO

I nsects buzzed—the true minstrels of night.

A cloaked female hid in a shadowed alleyway, wearing a body that did not belong to her. Rain beat down, drenching her and the baby bundled in her arms.

She peered around the corner, narrowing her focus on the two soldiers pacing before sky-high gates. In her own tongue, she whispered, “Vashi nolathi tavini moofinith.”

One thump sounded … and soon another.

Swiftly, she approached the sleeping guards to place the newborn between them. Piercing cries hummed through her borrowed ears. Strange instincts begged her to coddle the child—feelings she had to ignore.

Dashing back down the dark alley, she glanced over her shoulder, reciting her spell in reverse. When the soldiers wake, they wouldn’t recall how they fell. There’d be nothing but a wailing witchling consuming their thoughts.

A poor abandoned thing, they’ll think.

The cloaked female ran until her unfamiliar limbs collapsed, then she crawled.

As the sun rose, a midwife named Genevieve yawned awake.

She shuddered at the insect skittering down her arm and flicked it away. Tucked between rubbish bins, she wrinkled her nose, unsure why she’d slept in the alley behind a smelly fish market.

Rubbing her eyes did nothing to retrieve her memories. Had she stopped for mead after work?

Perhaps one too many again, Genevieve.

Rising on uncertain legs, she inspected her soaked cloak for clues.

Nothing.

After peering beneath it, her breath hitched. There was blood splattered on her white apron—demon blood.