Alex held his gaze. “You have no idea what I can do.”

He didn’t flinch. Eitan wasn’t going to let her get him alone, but he wasn’t scared of her. She might have sway with the dead, but he ruled the living.

Again he patted her shoulder, as if he was offering encouragement to a child. “Finish this job and we say goodbye, yes?” “Yes,” said Alex.

“This is fair. You make amends. Everyone is happy.”

She doubted he was right about that, but all she said was, “Sure.” “Good girl,” said Eitan.

He wasn’t right about that either.

33

Alex waited for Eitan and Tzvi to disappear into the big black Suburban idling by the curb. She should have noticed it, but she’d been focused on the wrong threats.

She pressed her back against the wall in the alley and slid down, rested her head in her hands. She needed to get back to the dorms, to someplace with cover, where she could be alone to think, but her legs were shaking.

Eitan had been here at Yale. He knew where to find her. And she wasn’t stupid enough to believe that if she somehow survived another encounter with Linus Reiter, Eitan was going to be done with her. He wasn’t going to give up a weapon in his arsenal, not when he was so sure he had her under his thumb. How much did he know about her? What other leverage could he find? He couldn’t have discovered the secrets of Lethe, but had he followed her to Il Bastone? Black Elm?

A shadow fell over her and she looked up to see a girl with dark hair.

“It’s all over,” she said. “It’s all slipping away. How long did you think you could keep pretending?”

Alex had the eerie sense that she was looking into a mirror. Not Hellie’s hair was black and parted in the middle, her eyes black as oil. She’s feeding on me. Alex’s hopelessness had called to her like a dinner bell.

Alex knew it, but the sadness in her made it hard to think. She felt like she was at the bottom of a well. She was supposed to fight. She was supposed to protect herself. But when she thought about moving, about taking any kind of action, it was like she was scrabbling at the well’s stone walls, wet with moss. It was impossible to find a grip. She was just too tired to try.

Not Hellie’s tattoos had begun to emerge. Peonies and skeletons. The Wheel. Two snakes meeting at her collarbones.

Rattlers.

Got a little viper in you. Ready to strike.

That was what the real Hellie had told her. The Hellie who had loved her, who had protected her to the very end and beyond. And this fucking impostor was wearing her face.

“Those don’t belong to you,” Alex growled. She forced herself to drag her arm to her mouth, push her tongue over her knuckles.

Her salt spirit lunged, the snakes snapping at Not Hellie. The demon backed away, but slower than the last time.

“Leave her alone!”

Alex looked up to see Tripp striding down the alley. She wanted to shout at him to keep his voice down, but she was so damn glad to see him bustling to her rescue she couldn’t be bothered to worry about a scene.

She was thankful for the shadows of the alley when she saw him lick his arm and his albatross screeched forward, slamming into Not Hellie.

The demon cringed away with a high-pitched whimper, but she was smiling as she scuttled back to the crowded street. And why not? Her belly was full.

Alex wasn’t sure what anyone walking past had seen. Maybe they simply hadn’t noticed the snakes, the seabird, a girl scurrying off in a way that was not quite human. Or maybe their minds skipped right over it, filling in an explanation that would allow them to keep on with their daily lives, the memory of anything odd or uncanny gratefully forgotten. She could have died in the shadows of that alley, and they would have walked on by.

“You okay?” Tripp asked. He was jumpy, crackling with energy and nerves.

“No.” She didn’t actually feel like she could stand.

“You look awful.”

“Not helpful, Tripp.”

“But the albatross worked.”

It had. Alex wanted to believe that her snakes would have come through, but it seemed like they were tied to her own state of mind.

“Thanks,” she said, dragging herself to her feet. She was shaky and weak, and when Tripp offered her his arm, she was embarrassed to have to take it.

“It feels so bad,” he said as they walked back to Blue State and took refuge at one of the tables.

“Spenser been after you?”

“As soon as I left my apartment. I had to go to work. My trusty seabird helped.”

Maybe so, but Tripp didn’t look great. He was pale and his cheeks had a sunken look, as if he hadn’t been eating, even though she’d seen him only a day before.

Alex bobbed her head toward the chalk menu behind the counter. “Any chance that chili is made from scratch?”

“Yeah, but I think it’s vegan.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

When Tripp went up to the counter, Alex called Dawes. “We need to check the cameras at Black Elm.”

“What am I looking for?”

“A black Suburban in the driveway.”

“I would have gotten an alert if anyone was there.”

“Okay. Just keep an eye out.”

“Who are you expecting?”

Alex hesitated. The full moon was only two nights away, but that felt like a distance she didn’t know how to cross. “I’m just being careful,” she said.

“Since you mentioned Black Elm,” Dawes began, “I need—” “Late for the Praetor,” Alex said hurriedly and hung up.

She didn’t feel good about it, but Dawes was going to ask if she could go to Black Elm to check on Darlington, feed Cosmo, pick up the mail. She should. It was her turn and Dawes had done plenty. But right now she couldn’t think about that. She needed to meet with the Praetor, to deal with Eitan. She needed to find her escape hatch. Her failures were stacking up too high, and the thought of facing Darlington behind that golden circle, still trapped between worlds, still not whole, made her feel hopeless all over again.

She texted the group chat with a warning: Keep your mood up. They know when we’re low.

“You think that’s true?” Tripp asked when he returned with two bowls of chili and a chocolate chip muffin.