“Preacher says this is just in case our blood or venom won’t accept the potion,” Jake offers.

I slip mine over my head, bring the pouch to my nose, and sniff. Immediately, the inside of Da Plat Eye, Preacher and Estelle’s potions shop, rushes to my memory. For a second, I’m so homesick I can feel my stomach actually hurting. Dried jasmine, crushed sand dollar, burnt saw grass, and a few other scents I don’t recognize. All of it, I’m sure, is blessed with one of Preacher’s root-doctor charms. It rests against Eli’s medallion on my chest. I grab a cup, bring it to my lips, and drain it.

You know I am just a thought away, Riley. If you need me, call. I will come.

That from Vic, and I shoot him a quick glance and nod.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say, anxious to move. Anxious to ash the bastards who took Eli away from me.

Everyone drains their cups. Those who have Preacher’s talismans slip them on. Noah doesn’t think twice about his. Ginger and Lucian, the lupines, both sniff it, make a face, and tuck them beneath their shirts. I think about taking the scathe, but I decide it’s not time yet. I leave it stashed in my room. Soon we’re all geared up, swords hidden beneath dark coats, and talismans filled with an ancient Gullah charm, and we head out into the misty Edinburgh night.

Darkness had fallen again since I’d returned from the streets this morning. God almighty, I’d spent all day sleeping and dreaming. Before we take off, a hand finds my arm. I turn to find Ginger standing there, her eyes wide.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and doesn’t take it further. “If you need a girl to talk to, I’m here.”

I give a short nod. “Thanks, but I’ll be ok.”

Ginger looks at me with a solemn gaze, returns the nod, then finds her mate, Lucian.

If I give in to that, to spilling my guts to another female, I’ll lose it.

I can’t afford to lose it. Maybe later, but not now. Hell, no.

Jake stands before me, his impossibly hulking figure throwing a shadow completely over me. I glance up.

“Can you handle this?” he asks. He’s not condescending, not sympathetic. He’s matter-of-fact.

I nod. “I got it.”

He watches me a few seconds longer, then nods. He addresses the others. “Let’s go. We’re headed to Teviot Place, at the university.”

The groups separate once more, and Darius takes his one street over, to Cowgate, and we slip into the sidewalk crowd and head up the Royal Mile, toward the castle. I walk fast, one hand in my coat pocket, the other against the hilt of my sword. Locals amble up and down the Mile, some heading to pubs, some just getting off work. Jake is in front of me; Noah’s behind me. Eli should be beside me. . . .

Riley, get it together, babe.

I turn and shoot Noah a look. You get it together. Noah stares, waiting for a decent answer, I guess, but I give myself a mental shake and push Eli back to the shadows of my mind. Noah’s right. Gotta have my head fully in this. Fight now; everything else, later.

Weaving through people carrying steaming coffee from the local grind, others moving fast, head down, hands shoved into their pockets, and others—youth—moving in groups, loud and raucously, we finally turn left at George IV and head toward the university. The mist is heavy now, not only visually, but also the scent of the Firth of Forth hangs thickly inside of it, filled with rotting seaweed and sea life, saltwater and God knows what else. Taxi horns blast every once in a while, and as I glance up, the lights illuminating Edinburgh Castle form a beacon to the city. Voices fill my head, and they’re the voices all around me, in front of me, behind me.

Meet me at the Mercat Cross in thirty minutes.

I’m no’ feckin’ tha’ bitch! Are you feckin’ daft, girl?

Vinegar and brown sauce?

Give me a pint, aye?

I concentrate, push aside the voices, and filter through the mass of people’s random conversations until the only sounds surrounding me are those of my footsteps, of Noah walking behind me, and Jake and Gabriel walking ahead of me. There’s something else I hear, too. I’m not sure what. I can only describe it as a low, subtle hum. Almost like an electrical buzz, but even more faint than that. It’s weird. No matter how much I try to push it out of my senses, it stays. It won’t clear out. Soon, we cross Candlemaker’s Row and onto Teviot. University goers mill about, and a young couple passes us. The guy has a cigarette dangling off his lips, and he’s walking with his arm draped around a pretty girl dressed in head-to-toe black, with a bright purple scarf wrapped fashionably around her neck. The girl looks at me as they pass, her eyes darting to my inked wings. “Feckin’ ripped,” I hear her whisper to her guy friend, who gives me a curious look. “Aye,” he answers her. But just that fast, they move away and into the other passersby meandering along the walkways.

Jake leads us down a narrow close—I don’t even catch the name of it—but it goes down a long, even narrower flight of aged steps. The walls are close and smell of wet stone, and not a soul is around. Just us. Ahead of me, I look at Jake’s wide, broad back and shoulders and wonder how in Hell he and Gabriel can walk straight through. Then they stop and half-turn to us. I throw a look over my shoulder. Noah is behind me, and Darius, Vic, Ginger, and Lucian have joined us. Jake’s eyes catch a slender beam of light pouring in from the streetlamp above us.

“We’re beneath one of three medical labs in this section of the university,” he says. “They’re side-by-side, as are the chambers through this entrance. “It’s dark as Hell in here, and passages you don’t even think exist, do.” He looks at me. “Easy to get lost. I’ve done it. Many times.”

“So this is just another entrance to the catacombs?” I ask.

“Aye,” he answers. “They virtually run course beneath all of Old Town. Some are caved in; some are easy enough to navigate.” In that beam of light I see Jake’s eyes narrow. “But be careful. They can be treacherous even for the experienced.” He inclines his head to my pocket. “Use your torch, lass.”

“What are we looking for, Andorra?” Lucian asks.

Jake glances over my head to stare at Lucian. “According to Sydney, a stone embedded in the corner wall of a chamber. The stone will have a tilted impression of a cross. By now ’tis barely visible, so it won’t be easy to spot. Once we find the stone, we have to wedge it out. Whatever the relic is, ’twill be there.”

Lucian’s silence signals an okay to proceed.

My hand goes for the mini flashlight I carry in the pocket of my coat.

With a final glance at us all, Jake pushes open a rickety old wooden door and ducks through the entrance. I turn my light on and follow.

“I’m right behind you,” Noah says in my ear. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

I jab his gut with my elbow. “You mean like that?”

Noah’s grunt is the only response I get. Along with a nice swear word.

My eyes try to focus in the dark, but they don’t. Can’t. It’s an absolute pitch-black abyss down here and the only thing I can see is what my flashlight beam alights on. It’s crazy. The floor is stone, some loose pebbles, and dirt. Uneven. Good thing I wore my Nikes, or I’d surely bust my ass. This is worse than the cobbles on River Street back home.

We’re in one big chamber right now, all of us, and Jake shines his flashlight to his face. “We need to split up and check out these other rooms and be done with this place. I dunna like it.”

I don’t like it, either. Feels like . . . death. Old death. Like plague-riddled death.

“We’ll break into twos. Search the walls near corners for a misplaced stone. You’ll have to feel it with your fingers for the cross, more likely than not. It’s been here for almost a thousand years.”

“Come on,” Noah says, and grabs my elbow. “You’re with me.”

“I’m the one with the flashlight,” I answer, and yank my arm free. “You’re with me.”

Noah chuckles. “That’s my girl.”

We head off down a ribbonlike corridor to another chamber. Noah has to turn sideways to wedge through the narrow gap of rock. Inside the chamber, I arc my flashlight, the beam sweeping the stone room. “Let’s start on opposite sides of the room and feel with our hands,” I say. “You take that corner; I’ll take this one.”

“Yep,” Noah says, and moves across the room.

Within minutes, we’re done. “I don’t feel anything,” he says.

“Me neither,” I answer. “Let’s go into the next chamber.”

We do, and again find nothing.

The tink-tink of water dripping and hitting something reverberates in my ears. It’s weird how stone has a scent, but it does. It smells like cold and wet. And something else. Years. It smells like lots and lots of years.

Then, I hear it. It’s louder now. That annoying hum in my head. It’s almost like a ringing in my ears now. Borderline painful.

“What’s wrong?” Noah asks.

I shake my head and glance around. “I don’t know. I . . . hear something—”

“Whoa!” Noah yells, and pushes me aside just before something flies straight at me. I stumble against the wall and look up.

“Riley, run!” Noah yells as he morphs into a full-fledged vampire.

I rub my eyes and look. Old decaying cherub statues have loosened from their places, only they’re not sweet little fat-faced babies. They have long, jagged teeth, and there’s at least a half dozen of them flying straight at us. What the hell?

“Riley, damn it, run!” Noah hollers.

I take off down a dank passage, running as fast as the narrow, low-ceilinged corridors will allow. I take turn after turn, those freaky little fanged cherubs crashing into walls as they chase me down. Further back, I hear Noah swearing.

I stumble into a chamber and immediately notice it’s different in here. Not the same. Am I in an alternative catacombs now? How the hell did that happen? Everything is in sepia, overgrown with moss, darkened by shadows. A light flickers. When I blink, Eli is standing there. It’s him. I see his face. “Eli!” I yell. I try to run toward him, but I can’t. My feet won’t move. Slowly, though, he steps toward me. I knew he wasn’t dead. “Eli, hurry!” I call to him.