“Brave words, but meaningless,” he said. “If you stop the flow of life in this meat, I’ll take another. There are others, waiting. Eager to know my will. We are near the end now. We are at the cusp. Once the Circle has been opened, I’ll sate your thirst for blood. I will give you the first sip when I carve out your Kin-child’s heart.”

With a growl, Mom jumped up onto the desk and then threw herself toward him.

He evaded, but she battled him backward across the room, their movements almost too rapid for me to follow. Mom dodged, swung, aimed for his neck. Lights spun out from her fingertips. Shane retreated, again and again, though none of Mom’s blows seemed to connect. His talons swiped toward her head, then her chest, but didn’t catch. Finally, she had him backed up against the window, and with a sudden, violent shove she thrust him through it. Glass shattered, flying out all around them. Mom ducked her head out the window to see where he’d fallen. Her hair had fallen loose from its bun, blowing across her shoulders.

She turned back to me for a second. Her brow puckered. “Wait here,” she said, then leaped down from the window after him.

I walked to the window, picking my away across the glass. A gust of wind billowed in, scattering all the papers on Charles’s desk. They floated up into the air and then settled slowly to the floor. Careful not to cut myself on the shards that stuck in the window frame, I peered out into the dark of the yard. We were on the third floor—or at least I was. I could see Mom down in the grass below, the arc of lights flashing as she moved. Neither of them appeared to have been injured by the fall. Shane went on the offensive, swinging toward her, but she caught his arm, bending it backward. He kicked himself free from her and then held back warily. They circled each other across the lawn, the stars bright overhead.

Some of the stars were red.

“Audrey.”

I whirled. Leon stood before me, his shirt stained with Esther’s blood.

I almost couldn’t ask the question. I looked down at my feet, at the glass crushed beneath my sandals. A few of Charles’s books had toppled from the shelves. One lay open beside me, its pages rustling in the breeze. Finally, I said, “Is she still alive?”

“She’s alive,” he said. He moved to my side, lifting his hands toward my shoulders, but he didn’t touch me. After a second, he let his arms fall. “They were taking her in when I left. We should get back there.”

I nodded. “Mom is”—I turned, looking back through the window. She and Shane had vanished—“uh. Gone.”

“I’ll let her know to meet us there.”

“Thank you for helping Esther,” I said.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled me to him and teleported.

I sat in the hospital waiting room, listening to the motion of the people around me: the chatter of nurses, the little boy snapping gum. Esther was going to live. While her condition was still serious, she was stable. There were severe lacerations to her upper chest, and she’d broken a few bones, so they were keeping her sedated for the time being.

Leon lurked at the other end of the room, silent and brooding. He was keeping a specific distance, it seemed to me. Not close enough that he’d have to communicate, not far enough that he wouldn’t see it if some Harrower crawled up and tried to drag me Beneath. He was there, at the end of the tether, I thought—our Guardian bond acting as a leash. Well, we’d been warned about that. We were stuck together, regardless of what either of us wished. And right now he clearly didn’t wish it.

Mom arrived shortly after midnight. She’d changed out of her Morning Star hoodie, replacing it with a tank top I was pretty sure belonged to me. She must’ve fished it out of my room at Esther’s, I decided, since she also dropped my phone and my purse in my lap. She’d exchanged her black pants for jeans. She’d showered, too; her hair was damp, and there didn’t appear to be even a drop of blood on her. When I asked what had happened to Shane, she grimaced.

“You killed him?” I breathed.

She shook her head. “He escaped. I’m not sure I even injured him. He’s more powerful than we ever gave him credit for.”

Or the Beneath itself was gaining strength.

Mom stationed herself at the hospital, in case Shane decided to go after Esther again. She’d spoken with the other Guardians, including the reinforcements from the other Circles. Every leader and elder among the Kin was researching the situation. They were trying to come up with a plan, she said, but at the moment they had nothing.

We spent the night in the hospital waiting room. I slept intermittently, curled up on one of the couches with my head tucked against the arm. I wondered where we were supposed to go. Mom wouldn’t let me return to our house. And the house in St. Paul was no longer safe, either. I doubted she’d pack me up and send me to Leon’s little apartment, if he would have even agreed to that.

I learned the answer the following morning.

There had been three additional attacks during the night while Mom was at the hospital keeping watch over Esther. Three disappearances. None of them had even had time to contact the Guardians assigned to protect them.

“I’ve discussed it with the Guardians and a few members of the Kin already,” Mom said, coming to sit beside me in the waiting room. “It’s time to consider next steps. I’ve come to a decision.”

“What does that mean?”

“At this point,” she said, “it’s clear that Shane is strong enough to breach the Circle just about anywhere within the Cities that he chooses. And we can’t protect every member of the Kin every hour of the day.”

I stared at her. “Then what are we going to do?”

Her face was grim. “Evacuate.”

Evacuations only took place under extreme circumstances. Though the Kin population in the Cities was relatively small—only a few hundred people—it was no minor thing to ask them to pack up and leave their homes and their jobs for an indeterminate amount of time. Some of them might refuse. And it wasn’t a command so much as a strongly worded suggestion.

Mom told me she expected most of the Kin to take this suggestion.

Her reasoning in ordering the evacuation was twofold, she said: to protect the Kin, and to minimize the number of targets. “If it wants the Kin, it will have to go after the Guardians,” she said. “And we’ll be ready. We’re preparing to counter if it launches an attack.”

The details of the evacuation would be left up to the individuals. They could decide where they would go, and when they would leave—though soon to immediately would be best. They would be asked to check in with the Guardians once they’d relocated, and to give contact information where they could be reached. If they wished, accommodations would be made for them at one of the other Circles.

The Guardians would remain. They would handle the situation. They would let the Kin know when it was safe to return.

If it was safe to return.

Esther would have to stay behind until it was safe for her to leave the hospital, Mom said. Charles would remain with her and Elspeth.

I listened in silence, imagining word being spread: phone calls and meetings, somber voices that uttered warnings and directions, the chill of fear that followed. By evening, most of the Kin would know. Decisions would need to be made, bags packed. Planning would go well into the night. Then, slowly, windows in Kin neighborhoods would go dark. Parents would gather their children, slip out to their cars and minivans in the hushed predawn light. Houses would stand empty. Mail would pile up.