Back at the Tavern

The room above the tavern had one window, one table, and four cots that smelled like someone else’s sweat. The team had pulled the cots together to make a rough sitting area. Mason sat on the floor, back to the wall, his eyes half-closed. Sera was cleaning her handgun, piece by piece, the parts laid out on a rag. Derek paced near the door, his ghosts hovering close, their cold making the small space even smaller.

Cora stood by the window, watching the square below. The crowd had thinned. The merchants were packing up their carts. The vampires had retreated to the shadows.

Lucian sat on the edge of a cot, his disguise still on—darker hair, leather jacket, scarf loose around his neck. He hadn’t spoken since they’d come inside.

"We need to get closer," Cora said, not turning from the window.

"Closer to what?" Derek asked.

"To Voss. To whatever she’s planning."

"We don’t know she’s planning anything."

"She’s meeting with a demon and a witch in a neutral town. She’s planning something."

Mason opened his eyes. "Lucian. What do you think?"

Lucian looked at him. "I think we need more information."

"Then how do we get it?"

He stood. Walked to the window. Looked out at the square, at the rooftops, at the alleys where shadows pooled and waited.

"There’s a building across from where we saw her. Flat roof. Good sightlines." He turned to Cora. "I’m going up."

"Alone?"

"I move quieter alone."

Cora’s jaw tightened. "We just got back from the Springs. We’re supposed to be a team."

"We are a team. That’s why you’re staying here."

"That doesn’t—"

"If I’m not back in an hour, come find me." He pulled his scarf higher, checked his blades. "But I will be."

He left before she could argue.

---

The roof was cold.

Lucian climbed from a stack of crates to a low awning, from the awning to a ledge, from the ledge to the tiles. The building was old—the mortar crumbled under his fingers, but it held. He crawled to the edge and lay flat, his body pressed against the slope, his face hidden in the shadows of a chimney.

Below him, the alley was empty.

He waited.

The wind shifted. Smells drifted up—cooking oil, rotting fruit, the faint copper of old blood. Somewhere, a dog barked. Somewhere else, a child cried.

Then footsteps.

Not one set. Several. They came from different directions, converging in the alley below. Lucian didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

The first figure stepped into view—a woman, tall, dark hair, eyes that glowed faintly red. Lillith. Valentine’s second-in-command. She wore a long coat and carried no visible weapon, but her hands were bare, and the nails were black.

Behind her came others.

A man with pale skin and a high collar—vampire lord, his movements too smooth, his eyes too old. A beastkin with a wolf’s face and a scarred chest—alpha, his fur matted with old blood. A woman in green robes, her face hidden beneath a hood—witch coven leader, her fingers stained with something dark. A revenant, its body wrapped in bandages, its eye sockets empty and smoking.

And a demon—full-blooded, tall, with horns that curved back from its temples and skin the color of rust.

They formed a loose circle.

Lillith stood at the center. "The Veil is weak in the north. Valentine’s forces have already breached three outposts."

The vampire lord spoke. "And the south?"

"Secured. The witch covens have agreed to our terms."

The alpha growled. "Terms. You promised us land. Human territory. Our packs need room to run."

"And you’ll have it." Lillith’s voice was calm, measured. "When the Veil falls, the old borders will mean nothing. Humans will be scattered. We will claim what we’re owed."

The witch’s hood tilted. "And the Ashen Guard?"

"Will be dealt with."

The revenant’s jaw creaked. "The dead remember the Guard. They hunt us. Burn us. Seal us in iron boxes." Its voice was like stones grinding. "We want revenge, not land."

Lillith nodded. "Revenge will come. Valentine has not forgotten what the Guard did to his kind. But first, the Veil."

The demon spoke. Its voice was low, resonant, like a bell struck too hard. "The Veil has stood for centuries. It will not fall easily."

"Easily? No. But it will fall." Lillith reached into her coat, pulled out a small object—a pendant, glowing faintly. "We have the key. The other artifacts are being retrieved. When they are united, the Veil will crack."

The vampire lord smiled. "And then?"

"Then we tear it down together."

The circle murmured. Approval. Hunger.

Lucian’s hand moved to his phone. He pulled it out slowly, pressed the record button, and placed it on the roof beside his head. The screen glowed faintly—too faint for them to see.

Lillith continued. "The human cities will be divided. The north to the vampires. The east to the beastkin. The south to the covens. The dead will take the old battlegrounds—the places where they fell. And the demons will rule the Veil itself."

The alpha growled again. "And Valentine?"

"Will rule us all. As he should."

No one argued.

The witch stepped forward. "The ritual requires a blood moon. We have three months."

"Then we prepare for three months." Lillith looked at each of them. "No attacks. No raids. No drawing attention. The Ashen Guard must not know what we’re planning."

The vampire lord inclined his head. "My people will be quiet."

The alpha grunted. "Mine won’t start anything."

The witch nodded. The revenant creaked. The demon said nothing.

Lillith tucked the pendant back into her coat. "Go. We’ll meet again when the moon is close."

The circle broke. Figures melted into the shadows. Lillith lingered for a moment, her eyes scanning the rooftops.

Lucian went still. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink.

Her gaze passed over him.

Then she was gone.

---

He waited ten minutes before moving.

Crawled back from the edge. Climbed down from the tiles. Dropped from the awning to the crates. His boots hit the ground soft.

The team was waiting in the room above the tavern. Cora had her hand on her sword. Mason stood by the door. Sera had her gun out. Derek’s ghosts were at the windows.

Lucian walked in. Pulled out his phone. Held it up.

"I recorded everything."

Cora’s eyes went wide. "What did you hear?"

He played it.

The voices filled the small room—Lillith, the vampire lord, the alpha, the witch, the revenant, the demon. The plan. The territories. The blood moon.

When it ended, no one spoke.

Mason broke the silence first. "Three months."

"Three months," Lucian said.

Sera holstered her gun. "We need to get this to Alistair."

"Tonight."

Derek swallowed. "They’re going to tear down the Veil."

"They’re going to try." Lucian pocketed his phone. "And we’re going to stop them."

Cora looked at him. "How?"

He didn’t have an answer.

But he had the recording. And that was a start.