1. Max

1

MAX

" Y ou look fucking exhausted." Izzy's nose scrunched in concern as the toe of her boot kicked up some loose dirt on the path.

I narrowed my eyes. "You know, that's not generally something a girl wants to hear first thing in the morning." I pointed to the dark circles under her eyes, fuller and more visible than I'd ever seen them. "Besides, you're not exactly looking spry and wide-eyed yourself."

It was great having Izzy around, even if I hadn't had much time to hang out with her since the whole burning-down-The-Guild-Headquarters-and-turning-all-of-our-lives-upside-down thing.

There was a hardness, a darkness around her edges that wasn't there before.

Izzy was the person I always associated with love and light and giddy happiness. That's how she always made me feel when I was around her, anyway.

But this world wasn't really suited to those things anymore—not when we were at the fucking heart of it, fighting our way through with tooth and claw .

And as bubbly and kind as Izzy was, she could also be a fucking force when she wanted to be. The best of both worlds, wrapped up in one package.

The girl who'd taken me shopping and snuggled into my side during countless vampire moviethons was hardened now.

Like I was, I supposed.

Heading a secret spy initiative against The Guild from inside the belly of the beast would do that to a girl.

Still, in a perfect world, she wouldn't need to wear such tarnished armor or be plagued by the nightmares I knew haunted her now. I could see her wariness in the lines of her posture, the dark, distant look that would occasionally eclipse the light in her eyes. Even when she tried to hide it, I knew it was there.

I shouldn't be surprised that she was concerned about the same shadows haunting me.

I took a deep breath, embracing the cloying chill that kissed the tip of my nose. It was strange, these moments of peace—how at odds they were with the world I knew now.

Part of me wanted to linger here, on this worn path with Izzy, forget about everything else for a little while. I wanted so desperately to protect all of my friends from the difficulties that inevitably lay ahead, but I was powerless against them.

She shoved my hand away with a dark laugh. "Yeah, I guess ushering in the apocalypse doesn't exactly come with a girl's proper dose of beauty rest. We're all exhausted, but that's not what I mean."

I yawned, as if proving her point. "I've been using what energy I can spare to help heal everyone. That's probably what you're picking up. It'll pass. Eventually."

A lot of the people we'd pulled from the labs were in rough shape. I couldn't help much with the mental and emotional trauma—of which there was undoubtedly a lot—but I did what I could for the physical .

Even that was limited though.

My ability to heal people outside of my bond group was minimal at best. Magic feasted on emotion, on connection. That kind of thing couldn't be forged falsely, no matter how badly I wanted to help everyone else with the ease I healed Six.

Still, that didn't stop me from draining my strengths day in and day out to try. It was the least I could do after bringing so many people here and draining the Lodge's resources.

She sighed, deep and heavy, and I felt her studying me from the corner of her eyes, a shrewdness piercing through the mask of levity she tried so hard to don. Izzy was the sort who could be down to her last morsel of food, and she'd still be concerned that those around her weren't getting enough to eat.

The girl was a titanium fucking needle in a burning pile of hay—one of a kind, and she came out forged stronger from the flames.

"Maybe. And I don't doubt that using your power is draining. Or that your team is draining you in other, more…pleasant ways." She shot me some knowing—and approving—side-eye. "But there's something more than that going on with you—" she scrunched her nose again, lost in thought, "something deeper, not just physical. An existential sort of exhaustion. So do me and favor and just level with me. Are you doing okay? Shit storm aside, I mean, obviously? You'd tell me if I had to worry about you, yes?" She snorted, "apart from how much I already worry about you, that is."

I took a deep breath and considered the question, weighing the possibility of answering as honestly as I could. But the truth was, I had no idea what ‘okay' even looked like anymore. It wasn't a form I'd had the luxury to wear in a long time.

Every chance we had to take a breath, it was like we were pulled back under by another surprise wave—the new one often larger and angrier than the one before it.

We rarely caught a break. Drowning felt like an inevitability these days. It was just a matter of how long we could stave it off. But an umbrella couldn't hold long against an ocean.

Exhausted didn't even begin to cover it.

She gave me space and time to articulate my answer as we walked a long, winding path through Lake Cadaver's grounds.

Yes, that name was ridiculous and ominous as fuck—they clearly needed someone better on the marketing team. There was a reason everyone just called it ‘The Lodge'.

I supposed it benefited us now though—kept the tourists away.

Well, the bad marketing and the protective magic surrounding the place helped keep the tourists away. Not that anyone was particularly forthcoming about how the latter worked. Charlie and her community enjoyed their secrets and privacy as much as we did.

Izzy'd finally been given clearance and permission to visit the medical building housed here.

Though, to be honest, medical building was a little generous. It was mostly a repurposed house with outdated supplies and not enough beds to corral all the new patients.

Bishop was a bit of a stickler for the rules. In that, when we flipped everything upside down, he took it upon himself to make a bunch of new ones.

Considering Izzy and I had doubled the number of occupants on this land, I couldn't exactly fault him for trying to maintain some semblance of control and organization, no matter how futile and frivolous it seemed to us at this point.

She bumped her shoulder with mine, reminding me I hadn't responded yet.

Right. How was I?

How the fuck was I supposed to know the answer to that question?

"I've been sleeping," I said, considering how much I wanted to share. But the hesitation dripped away as instantly as it had come. This was Izzy. She'd put herself on the line countless times for me—and she'd implicitly trusted me when I reached out to her the night we ambushed The Guild.

She was the real reason we were able to save so many of the demons locked deep in the labs. I may have burned it to the ground, but she was the one who'd done all of the heavy lifting before that. The moment after she'd woken up from our dream, she initiated things there instantly, corralling the protectors she trusted and manipulating those she didn't away from the grounds.

The girl deserved the truth—always. As long as I was able to give it to her, anyway.

"But most of my dreams end up as these horrible, almost tangible nightmares—not like with the dream walks, different somehow—and when I wake up, I'm at the lake. More exhausted than when I went to sleep in the first place."

Sometimes I even woke up with what must have been deep scratches and gouges in my arms and legs—the cuts from my nails long healed, leaving only crusted blood as evidence of the injuries.

"Like," she stopped walking, "literally at the lake?" She pointed her thumb over her shoulder, back the way we'd come. The air was filled with the soothing brine of it. "The giant one over there?"

I nodded.

Most nights, I was lucky and just woke up on the rocky beach, gasping for breath. But occasionally I'd come to, doused fully under water, with a rush that made it feel like I was only a few seconds away from drowning. "The guys and Dec started locking my door, but we learned pretty quickly that strategy doesn't work."

Neither did literally handcuffing my arm to one of them throughout the night—which they'd also tried. Twice.

Izzy tilted her head, gray eyes locking onto mine. "I suppose that teleporting makes most methods of jail or observation useless, huh? Sort of throws the typical rules of sleepwalking out the window."

I snorted. She'd figured out that flaw in our plan considerably faster than the rest of us had. We went through the entire experiment before reality smashed it to smithereens in our faces. "Was worth a try."

"I mean, I suppose it's better than waking up in the middle of a volcano pit—or in the clutches of The Guild Council, but still, it's weird. And weird these days always seems to mean something, doesn't it?" She read the confusion on my face and snorted. "Oh please. There are no coincidences where you're concerned. Everything is…something. So why now? Why the lake?"

I shrugged, remembering the first time it had happened.

I'd dream-walked to Lucifer.

A cold shiver ran down my spine at the memory of it.

Lucifer's ritual to save the world would most likely save the world. In theory, anyway, but it would also end in my death.

I still hadn't found a way to tell the others about that particular puzzle piece. Partially because I already knew I'd go through with it anyway, regardless of what they had to say.

What was the point in living, if the entire world collapsed as a result? If it risked every person I cared about?

At least I could go out saving as many people as possible—giving everyone I loved a chance to live their remaining days out in a peaceful, stable world. When I really thought about it, there was no better way to die.

It was how Cyrus had spent his last breaths, even if I wished down to my marrow that he hadn't.

Which was how I landed on the primary reason I hadn't told any of them the truth of that dream.

They'd fight me on it. I knew they would .

I would have stolen Cy's choice the instant it emerged from his lips, if I'd been given the chance.

But I also knew that they'd all lost so much already. I wasn't ready to completely shatter the small bit of bliss we'd been able to carve out for ourselves here since that night. It had taken us all too long to find each other—to break down the walls we'd all erected around ourselves for protection, to let each other in.

We were finally all in one place, finally together. It seemed cruel to shatter something so fragile now.

I needed more time.

I'd tell them, of course, but I wanted the chance to unwind a little, to enjoy being with them for a bit—before shit hit the fan. Again.

I mean, it had only been a week since we took down Headquarters, but it had flown by in a rush. As exhausted as I was, my body was still high on all of the adrenaline and chaos around us.

"You're not telling me everything." Izzy tracked my every movement, like she had a radar in tune with every muscle twitch, but she didn't fight me, didn't press for more.

Instead, we started walking towards the med center again, taking the long, winding way so that we could enjoy each other's company alone for a few more moments. We were never alone. Always busy. Always stumbling from one problem or issue to another. Always surrounded by other people, watching us with half curiosity, half trepidation.

I missed our movie nights something fierce.

"And I won't force you to say more until you're ready," she continued, "but I'm here to listen whenever you are. I just ask that you keep that in mind. You don't have to carry everything by yourself, you know?"

I wrapped my arms around myself to repress the chill. Her stare could strip me bare, layer by layer, and see all the dark and twisty things I tried to keep shoved into the back of my mind for perusal at a later date. Things I tried to hide even from myself.

It was infuriating.

But it was also comforting in a weird way too. As chaotic as the last year had been, I'd made some true connections that I wouldn't trade for all of the world.

In this case though, she wasn't completely right. I did have to carry this one thing on my own. This sacrifice was mine and mine alone to make.

I wasn't ready to tell her about my conversation with Lucifer, but I did compromise and update her on the things Six and I had been working on up until we freed Atlas.

She did the same, with her work infiltrating The Guild from the inside. It was a surprisingly brief story.

Her time at The Guild without me had been ‘productive but single-focused'—with the new, heavy surveillance, they weren't able to do much but hack into some of the servers—thank you Arnell—and collect names and leads of those who might be willing to fight with us when shit hit the fan.

And hit the fan it did. There was flying, ricocheting shit everywhere. It was a goddamn masterpiece of shitty abstract art.

Of course, to me, what they'd been doing didn't sound single-focused at all—Izzy and Ten were fucking badasses and did more than we could ever thank them for while we were away from Headquarters. But they'd hit a lot of obstacles and dead ends. Izzy brushed most of their troubles off, eager to hear my adventures and weave them through with her own suspicions and conjectures.

We were both far more eager to hear the other's story, less so to tell our own.

She did promise to get me the tedious notes Arnell had been keeping on the council's movements as soon as she could. Something we'd no doubt need very soon .

"So, three things for his mysterious ritual?" She twisted a strand of dark hair near her collarbone—it had grown a few inches since I'd last seen her, another glaring reminder of how skewed time got whenever I visited hell—as she let the information settle over her. "The catalyst—which is you, your power at full charge," she put one finger up, counting along, "the nexus, and the abraxas."

I nodded, adding a soundless, and my death to that list.

I'd pull the magic encasing the shadow realm through me, the perfect catalyst, repairing and restoring it, or dissolving it altogether.

I wasn't sure which. No one was. Not even Lucifer.

That was part of the problem with an impending apocalypse—we were in pretty uncharted territory. The history books couldn't tell us much.

Not least of all because The Guild didn't exactly keep objective—or accurate—tellings of history.

"And we know where the abraxas is," she continued, grimacing, "or at least who has it."

The council, though I had no idea how we'd get access to it now.

I'd found it while spying on Atlas's bonding ceremony with Reza, but there was no way the council was just keeping it at Headquarters. Now that I had a scent for it—a spidey sense of sorts—I would have been drawn to it if they were.

Six, Darius, Ro, and I had finally agreed last night that the next step was to have a conversation with some of the elders here now that things with the new arrivals were leveling out a bit, to eke out as much information as we could about The Guild council. It was something none of us knew very much about.

That was by design, of course. Protectors were very secretive about their governing body and what it did—most went their entire lives knowing next to nothing about the group of people that ruled them beyond the location-specific teams that trickled down orders.

Until a few months ago, I thought Seamus, Cyrus, and Alleva were as high up as things went.

Fuck was I wrong.

"Your powers have grown considerably since I last saw you," she continued, her gaze dipping to my neck, where the dark, iridescent, abstract patterns were etched into my skin, creeping along the collar of my shirt.

My cheeks heated at the knowing look on her face. Having all of Six here, together, finally giving in to the intimacy and vulnerability of being bonded, had transformed things considerably.

We'd been so stubborn, resisting it. Deep in the night, when I was trying to fend off nightmares, guilt still clutched at my chest. We'd given up so much time together trying to fight off the inevitable. And now, after everything, I'd only get to have them for a short while.

It was profoundly cruel.

I wasn't sure which was worse—soaking up every stray second I had of them, deepening our connections, just to break their hearts at the end, or pulling away now to lessen the blow.

I scratched absently over the lines of shadow magic. When I focused on the mark, I could almost feel it pulse, the magic there both familiar and not. Strong. Powerful.

All five of the others had the mark now too—none of us knew the limits of our bond, or what this kind of power meant.

It honestly terrified the shit out of me.

True bond marks, woven naturally with shadow magic, hadn't existed in centuries as far as any of us knew. And they were typically only associated with incubi and succubi. Darius had never heard of vampires bearing the mark at all—let alone protectors.

But here we were. Ours had simply flared to life, growing darker and more mysterious by the day—their presence impossible to ignore.

Izzy exhaled. "But how do we find this nexus point?"

That was the million-dollar question.

From what Lucifer had guessed, the nexus was at the juncture of the two realms—probably where the power of the shadow realm was first manifested or where it was anchored now.

By my ancestors apparently.

Which meant our best bet was learning more about my mother's family, tracing it back as far as we could. With any luck, that family tree might lead us to an answer. Or, at the very least, a path towards finding an answer.

"Saif Azar." The name felt strange on my lips, and a stabbing grief pierced my chest at the memory of when I first heard it. "My mother's twin. According to Cyrus. Though I don't have much more to go on beyond that. I'm hoping that he might have an idea of where the nexus is, or that he'll be able to at least point us to someone that does."

Izzy stretched her arms high, joints cracking loudly as she let out a humorless sigh. "Well, we never really have much to go on, do we? Lots of guess work, lots of twists and turns. But we'll get there. One step at a time, that's all we can do. The alternative is, well—" she shrugged, letting the depressing thought dissolve between us.

I didn't miss the way she repeatedly used the word we . The demand in her phrasing was just as clear as the one lingering in the dark threads of her eyes.

Whatever the next steps were, she would be at my side.

She was done being left in the dark, separated by circumstance and necessity.

And honestly, I was done leaving her in the dark.

I could feel some of the tension slipping from my shoulders. For the first time, I had everyone I needed here—Izzy, Ro, Darius, Six. While worry never went away—how could it in a war like this—it seemed lighter to carry, easier to calm, when I had them all with me.

But things were hectic. This was the first time since our arrival that Izzy and I had time alone to talk.

Everyone had been exhausted, building new housing and protections for everyone we'd brought in from Headquarters. Not to mention that Charlie, Bishop, and the others in charge here had developed a pretty rigorous policy on keeping the new recruits separated until they could vet everyone and make sure that we hadn't accidentally brought anyone unsympathetic to the cause, Trojan Horse style, into this close-knit community they'd created.

How they did the vetting? I had no idea. I didn't have the clearance. But I knew it wasn't with the kind of callous torture The Guild swore by. From Izzy's experience, it mostly seemed like a deep, exhausting discussion, making sure everyone was safe for the community here.

It was frustrating at times—relying on their process and staying out of it when they asked. And while it was incredibly difficult to have the patience they requested, I understood why they were so protective of this place, of the people here. The Lodge was an oasis in a pool of confusion—it wasn't perfect or easy, but it was worth preserving, protecting. It was the kind of thoughtful community I'd always assumed The Guild would be.

"So, any ideas of where Uncle Saif is?" she asked, a small grin twisting the corner of her lips.

I snorted. "Of course not."

"Oof," Izzy stumbled, laughing quietly as a small redhead—no older than eight or nine—went zooming past us at high speed, face split into a giant grin as another child I didn't recognize chased him .

Children—several—were living here. That upped the security stakes considerably.

We were encroaching on this peaceful haven they'd carved out here, and we'd brought the fight they probably weren't expecting for years to them immediately—and to their front door.

It was a lot.

Izzy nodded to the large building in sight ahead of us. "This it?"

He did what? Why haven't you said anything?

"What?"

She snorted. "Girl, we need to get you a coffee. I said, ‘Is this it?' The med center?"

She's exhausted. She has enough to worry about.

We still need to tell her.

The words were hardly even a whisper. I spun back towards her, eyes narrowed. "Tell me what?"

Lines carved through Izzy's forehead as she took a step closer to me. "You okay, Max? You've got that face on."

I shook my head, trying to clear it. Maybe I really was reaching a breaking point with my exhaustion. "Yeah, sorry. Coffee would be good after this."

My stomach clenched at the sight of the unremarkable building in front of us. It seemed quiet, normal even—brown walls and roof, small patio. I knew that once we crossed through the doorway, we'd be met with chaos and pain and confusion.

The med center was wildly understaffed.

Eli had been looped into working here most days, since he was the best at field medicine in our group by far. Each night, he'd come home drained and exhausted, a walking ghost with barely enough time to eat a bite of food before he crashed into a deep sleep and started the whole thing all over again. But he never complained, never took a day off—and as much as it hurt to see him so tired, I couldn't help but love him even more for how much of himself he was willing to give to help out here. He tried to pretend he didn't care about people, but his actions proved otherwise.

The demons we'd rescued were in pretty bad shape. And since we didn't exactly know the details of what they'd been through, it made it incredibly difficult to help them.

But they weren't the only ones.

Seamus was still in isolation, and I hadn't even been permitted to see him.

Until today.

And Sarah?—

My chest pinched at the memory of her that night. Lost and confused, trapped inside of herself like Atlas had been.

I took a deep breath as my fingers wrapped around the cool metal doorknob. With a quick glance at Izzy, I exhaled. "Brace yourself. It's not exactly pretty on the other side of this door."

She laughed; the sound more haunting than humorous. "Nothing ever is anymore, is it?"