Chapter 2

The service elevator smelled like rust and old bleach. I leaned against the wall, pressing my forehead to the cold metal.

Three floors down. That was all I needed. The basement garage, the car, the border.

The elevator stopped on floor fifty-two.

The doors opened. Dominic Valdric stepped in.

He was Caspian's younger brother. Where Caspian was cold marble, Dominic was a crack in the foundation — unpredictable, dangerous, always watching. He had dark red eyes, the mark of a vampire who fed on powerful blood. His jaw was sharp enough to cut, and a scar ran from his left ear to his collarbone.

He looked at me. His gaze dropped to the medical port in my neck, then to the bruises on my arms, then to the divorce papers clutched in my hand.

"Leaving the party early?" he asked. His voice was low, almost lazy.

"Leaving everything early," I said.

Dominic tilted his head. He inhaled slowly. His pupils dilated.

"You smell wrong," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"You smell like you're dying." He stepped closer. "How much blood did they take today?"

"That's not your concern."

"It is if you collapse in my elevator and I have to explain to my brother why his discarded wife bled out in the service shaft."

I pressed the basement button again. The doors closed. The elevator descended.

"Two liters," I said quietly. "This morning."

Dominic's jaw clenched. "And how much do you have left?"

"Enough."

"Liar." He grabbed my wrist — gently, but firm enough that I couldn't pull away. He pressed two fingers to my pulse point. His eyes widened.

"Three liters," he breathed. "Maybe less. You're in hypovolemic territory. If you lose one more cup, your organs start shutting down."

"Then it's a good thing no one will be draining me anymore," I said. I pulled my wrist back.

The elevator reached the basement. The doors opened to a dark concrete garage. A black sedan idled near the exit ramp, its headlights cutting through the gloom.

I stepped out. Dominic followed.

"Where is the car taking you?" he asked.

"The border."

"And after that?"

"I don't know. A motel. A bus station. Somewhere without vampires."

"There is nowhere without vampires, Lena."

I kept walking. My legs were shaking. I focused on the car. Twenty steps. Fifteen.

"You know," Dominic called out behind me, "the wards on the North Wall flickered last week. Three soldiers in Sector Nine lost their immunity boost. Caspian blamed faulty rune work."

I stopped.

"But I did some digging," Dominic continued. He was leaning against a concrete pillar, arms crossed. "The wards aren't powered by runes. They're powered by Solaris blood. And the blood reserves in the vault are running low. Because someone has been diluting them."

My heart hammered.

"Vivienne's been cutting the blood with saline," Dominic said. "Stretching it. Because she doesn't produce enough on her own. Because she doesn't produce any."

I turned around slowly. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because in about six hours, when the coronation high wears off and the wards need their nightly recharge, Vivienne is going to walk into that vault, open a vein, and nothing is going to come out. No glow. No power. Nothing." He paused. "And my brother is going to realize he just divorced his only source of protection and sent her to die at a bus station."

The car honked. The driver was getting impatient.

"Get in the car, Lena," Dominic said. "But take this."

He tossed me a black card. It landed in my palm. It was heavy, metallic, engraved with a serpent eating its own tail.

"What is this?"

"A key to the Obsidian Court. My court. If you make it past the border and you need sanctuary, show that card at any Obsidian outpost. They'll take you in."

"Why would you help me?"

Dominic smiled. It was not a kind smile. It was the smile of a man who had been waiting for his brother's empire to crack.

"Because I'm not helping you," he said. "I'm investing."

I got in the car. The door slammed shut. Through the tinted window, I watched Dominic disappear into the shadows of the garage.

The driver pulled onto the highway. The city lights blurred past. Above us, the top of Valdric Tower glowed gold with coronation lights.

I pressed my hand to my neck. The port throbbed.

In six hours, the wards would fail.

In six hours, Caspian would know.

I closed my eyes and let the hum of the engine carry me away from the man who had bled me dry and called it love.