The body was found on a Tuesday.
Lyra heard about it from her father's security detail—a low murmur of conversation that she caught from the hallway outside his study. The words were clipped, professional. "Drained. No marks on the neck. Third one this month."
She stopped walking.
The door was cracked open. Through the gap, she could see her father seated behind his desk, his face illuminated by the glow of a laptop screen. Two enforcers stood opposite him, their postures rigid.
"The Council is concerned," one of them said. A woman with short gray hair and the build of someone who'd been a soldier before she'd been turned. "This doesn't match any known feeding pattern. The victims are drained completely, but there's no evidence of puncture wounds. No struggle. They just... stop."
"Copycat?" her father asked.
"Unlikely. The method is consistent across all three. Whoever is doing this knows what they're doing."
Cassius was quiet for a moment. Lyra watched his profile, the way his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "And the Children of the Moon?"
"No sign of involvement. The bodies were found in neutral territory, but the scent traces are... wrong. Not wolf. Not vampire. Something else."
Something else.
Lyra's hand tightened on the doorframe. She thought about Kael. About the coffee shop. About the way he'd looked at her like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve.
She stepped away from the door and continued down the hall to her room. The conversation faded behind her, replaced by the hum of the house's climate control system.
Something else.
She sat on her bed and pulled out her phone. Her thumb hovered over Kael's contact—she'd saved it under "K.S." with no other identifying information. She hadn't texted him since the coffee shop. They'd agreed on next week. Same time. Same place.
But this changed things.
She typed a message: "Need to see you. Sooner. Tonight?"
She stared at the screen. Her finger hovered over send.
If her father found out she was communicating with a wolf, the consequences would be severe. House arrest. Surveillance. Possibly relocation to another territory, far from Portland, far from the only person who'd looked at her like she was more than a political asset.
But three people were dead. And whatever had killed them wasn't vampire and wasn't wolf.
She pressed send.
The response came four minutes later. "Where?"
She typed the address of a park on the east side of the river. Neutral ground. Public enough to be safe, private enough for conversation.
"Midnight."
She deleted the thread and set down her phone.
The hours until midnight passed slowly. Lyra ate dinner with her father—roast duck this time, with a cherry sauce she didn't taste—and answered his questions about her day with careful, neutral responses. She'd gone for a walk. She'd read a book. She'd listened to the Billie Holiday album again.
He didn't ask about the record store. He didn't ask about Kael.
When the meal ended, she retreated to her room and waited. At eleven-thirty, she slipped out through the garden door and walked to the edge of the estate, where the UV-treated windows gave way to old-growth forest. The night air was cold and damp. She didn't feel it.
The park was empty when she arrived. A small rectangle of grass and trees wedged between residential streets, lit by a single lamp near the entrance. She sat on a bench in the shadows and waited.
Kael arrived at midnight exactly.
He emerged from the trees at the edge of the park, moving with that deliberate, efficient grace she'd noticed the first time she saw him. He wore the same canvas jacket, and his hair was damp from the mist that had settled over the city.
"You came," she said.
"You asked."
He sat beside her on the bench. Not too close. Close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from his body—actual warmth, not the remembered kind. Wolves ran hot. She'd read that somewhere.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Three bodies. Drained of blood. No marks on the neck. No sign of wolf or vampire involvement."
Kael's expression didn't change. "I know."
Lyra turned to face him. "You knew?"
"We found the first one two weeks ago. My father's people have been tracking it. We thought it might be a rogue vampire, but the scent doesn't match."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"We'd just met. I wasn't sure I could trust you."
"And now?"
He looked at her. The lamplight caught his eyes, turning them the color of aged whiskey. "I'm here."
Lyra exhaled slowly. "Do you know what it is?"
"No. But I know what it's not. It's not one of us. And it's not one of you."
"Then what?"
Kael was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was lower. "There are things older than the treaty. Older than the Blood Wars. My grandmother used to tell stories about them. The Wendigo. The Strigoi. Creatures that don't fit into our categories because they came before the categories existed."
"You think it's one of those?"
"I think someone wants us to blame each other. Three bodies in neutral territory, killed in a way that points to both sides and neither. It's a provocation."
Lyra considered this. The logic was sound. Too sound. "You've thought about this a lot."
"I've had two weeks."
"What does your father think?"
Kael's jaw tightened. "He thinks it's vampires. He's always thought it's vampires. The treaty was his father's work—he respects it because he has to, but he doesn't trust it. He doesn't trust you."
"And your pack?"
"Divided. Some agree with him. Some think we should investigate before we accuse."
"What do you think?"
Kael turned to face her fully. The space between them on the bench had shrunk somehow, though neither of them had moved.
"I think someone is trying to start a war. And I think we're the only ones who can stop it."
"We?"
"You and me. Vampire and wolf. The two people who should want nothing to do with each other, working together to find something that wants us both dead."
Lyra looked at him. At the amber eyes. At the set of his jaw. At the way he held himself like he was ready for a fight but hoping one wouldn't come.
"This is insane," she said.
"I know."
"If anyone finds out—"
"They won't."
She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe that two people from opposite sides of an ancient war could work together in secret, find a killer, and somehow prevent the conflict that had been brewing for three centuries.
She wanted to believe a lot of things.
"When do we start
?" she asked.
Kael's expression shifted. Not quite a smile. Something close.
"Tomorrow night. There's a place I want to show you."