We moved through the shadows of the city like ghosts. Silas kept his hood up, his movements jerky and tense, fighting the withdrawal of the Goddess's influence. I led him to the abandoned textile mill, the only sanctuary we had left.
I knocked the rhythmic code on the heavy iron door.
Click.
The door swung open. Ivan stood there, his black-ice blade already half-formed. When he saw Silas standing behind me, his crimson eyes narrowed to slits.
"You brought the dog," Ivan hissed, stepping forward to block the entrance.
"The dog is off the leash," I said, pushing past him and dragging Silas inside. "He's with us."
The safehouse was exactly as I remembered it from the timeline that never happened. Thomas and Rosalie were at the workbench. Lucien, Amaryllis, and Jean Alef were gathered around the map table.
They all froze.
"Silvie!" Rosalie shrieked, launching herself across the room.
