Verrick. I could see him, too. And he wasn’t faceless. He watched me through Gideon’s eyes.

Maybe he doesn’t deserve to be saved, I heard Leon say.

I shook the memory away.

When an abrupt downpour began, I left the water and ran back to the parking lot, my hands covering my head. My sandals slapped wetly against the bottoms of my feet as I ran, and by the time I dove into my car, my clothing was soaked through. A glance in the rearview mirror told me my hair was clumpy and clinging, and it must have dried that way, because when I arrived home and stepped into the house, Mom did a double take when she saw me. I ignored her and darted upstairs to change clothes.

After I’d made myself somewhat presentable, I found her in the kitchen, seated at the table, drinking coffee and picking at a plate of food. Mickey stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders.

“You need to get more sleep,” he chided.

“You tell her,” I said, stepping into the room. “A couple of weeks ago, I found her facedown in a bowl of Cheerios.”

“That’s a complete fabrication,” Mom said.

Mickey gave her a sidelong glance. She cocked an eyebrow at him. To me, he said, “I think I’ll go with her on this one.”

“Probably smart, since she’s the one who can fold you into a football and then play catch.”

Mom snorted. “I’m glad to see you’ve kept your sense of humor, but would you mind directing it elsewhere?”

“But you’re the only ones here.” I frowned. “Wait, was that your way of telling me to get lost?”

She smiled. “That was my way of telling you to put a sock in it.”

I shrugged, crossing the room to pour myself a glass of orange juice, then took a seat across from her. I hesitated a moment, running my finger along the tablecloth. I took a deep breath and asked, “Any news?”

Their silence answered me. Mickey rubbed his jaw with one hand. Mom looked at me a moment, frowning, and finally said: “Two more.”

“Right,” I said. “Who?”

Another slight hesitation. “Claude Camden and Rachel Brice,” she said.

The names were familiar, but I couldn’t attach faces to them. I wasn’t certain if that made it better or worse.

I gripped the edge of the table. “What are we doing to stop this?”

“Everything we can, honey.”

It didn’t seem like much to me. Mom explained that every member of the Kin had the contact information of the Guardians nearest them, and there was a dedicated emergency number to H&H that all the Guardians were connected to. It was a measure Mr. Alvarez had instituted before he’d stormed out the previous night.

“No Gideon?” I asked.

“No. There haven’t been any sightings. We’re not certain where he is.”

That was a relief, at least. As long as he wasn’t attacking, I told myself—as long as he didn’t hurt anyone, there was still a chance. Still a hope.

“You hanging in there, kid?” Mickey asked.

I shrugged again. “My best friend’s a demon and my boyfriend hates me.”

At least that was what I was assuming, since I still hadn’t had any word from Leon. Mom told me he’d been on patrol last night, which didn’t make me feel any better. I finished my orange juice and headed back up to my room.

I was halfway up the stairs when my phone rang.

Elspeth. I waited a moment before answering. I wasn’t certain I wanted to talk. But I hadn’t spoken to her since the morning she’d called to ask about Iris, so on the third ring I picked up.

“Hey, I’m outside,” she said when I answered.

“Outside my house?” I asked, loping back down the stairs to peer out the front door. Past the hedge that blocked most of our yard, I could see the curve of a tire and the metallic shine of blue paint. “What’s going on?”

Her voice was soft but urgent. “I need you to come with me.”

The heavy rain had dwindled into a drizzle, and the road glistened as we drove. Down the block, all of the gutters were flooded. Stray leaves floated on the water, bobbing and spinning as they circled toward the drains. We turned the corner, heading toward the highway. My eyes locked on to Gideon’s house as we passed it. His father was seated on the porch, watching the rain. My throat constricted.

I turned my attention to Elspeth. She still hadn’t told me our destination. She kept her eyes directed ahead, toward the road, and her expression was blank. But I sensed a difference in her. The edge of anxiety that had clung to her for the past several months had lessened. I didn’t catch that hint of sadness that had weighted her every gesture. I’d never had trouble reading Elspeth—and I didn’t have trouble understanding now. I finally clued in.

“You’re taking me to see Iris.”

She flicked a glance toward me. “Don’t be mad. She just wants to talk to you.”

I couldn’t exactly scold her for harboring her own sister, when I’d spent the past three months hiding Gideon. But that didn’t mean I was happy about it, either. I crossed my arms, leaning back against the seat. “She couldn’t use the phone?”

“She said you’d hang up on her.”

Well, she was right about that. “We already talked. My answer was no.”

“Hear her out, please.”

“Do you know what she wants?” I asked.

Elspeth didn’t answer immediately. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. When she spoke, her voice was soft. “Yes. She told me. Can we wait to talk about this until we get there?”

“She also said she wanted my mother dead. Did she tell you that?”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

I snorted, but I didn’t respond. We lapsed into silence. I watched the rain roll down the windshield. Beyond, the Minneapolis skyline was cloaked in gray. Headlights slashed through the thick haze of moisture that shrouded the highway. We crossed the river and passed downtown, and then Elspeth exited and turned onto a frontage road. She parked in the lot of a run-down motel and ducked out of the car.

I sat there a moment, surveying my surroundings dubiously. The sidewalk ahead was full of potted plants and cigarette butts. The huge sign that rose above the building was missing a letter, or at least a light, so that it declared BLUE LOON MOTE to all the passing vehicles. The blue loon itself was nowhere in sight. It was the sort of motel you see in horror films and crime shows, where the cops open up the ice bin and find a corpse stuffed inside. Or the sort of motel where fugitives hole up on their way out of the country, I thought.

“I guess Iris must feel right at home here,” I muttered, stepping out into the rain. Elspeth shot me a look. “How are you paying for this?” I asked as she led me toward room number five.

“Grandmother’s credit card.” She pushed open the door, peeking inside. “Iris?”

Iris was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed, eating cheese pizza and watching television. The ragged gray sweater and frayed skirt were gone. She appeared to be dressed in Elspeth’s clothing—a pair of pajama shorts and a black T-shirt that were both big on her, since Elspeth was nearly seven inches taller, and six months Beneath had rendered Iris’s already thin frame scrawny. She looked healthier than the last time I saw her, I noted. And definitely cleaner. Her silver hair had been pulled away from her face, and the dirt was gone from under her fingernails. Though her face was still drawn and gaunt, her eyes were once again their normal brown-gold. That was something of a relief, even if I wasn’t exactly pleased to see her.

Elspeth flicked on a light, closing the door behind us. I walked across the room and seated myself at a chair near the window, while Elspeth pulled herself onto the bed beside Iris. I glanced around. There were a few pieces of luggage leaning against the wall, more of Elspeth’s clothing spilling out of them, and on the table were several items I recognized from Iris’s room in St. Paul. Elspeth must have brought her what remained of her belongings. I wondered if she really was planning to smuggle her out of the country—or at least out of the Circle.