There were rips in his shirt where the Harrower’s claws had raked down, and thin lines of blood welled up on his skin. Otherwise he looked uninjured.

“I’m fine,” he said, brushing a lock of hair behind my ear, and then frowned as he scrutinized me.

“I’m not hurt.” There was a scrape down my right forearm, but I hadn’t felt it at the time, and I could ignore it now. I’d lost my sandals at some point, and the ground was cold and rough under my feet. I shivered beneath my sweat, hugging my arms.

I turned again, taking in my surroundings. The end of the street was blocked with parked cars, and the windows of the buildings around us were dark. I wasn’t familiar with most of the Guardians I saw; they were the reinforcements from the other Circles, I guessed.

I wondered where all the people working downtown were, and hoped they were all hiding out in storms shelters and stairways. I didn’t want to consider the alternative—that they had simply been swallowed up by the empty, and even now were wandering some layer of the Beneath, aimless and afraid, adrift in the void. I searched briefly for movement behind the glass doors of a business but saw nothing. Above, the sky was a swirl of darkness, gray upon gray, and within it the baleful gleam of those stars shone out. I put a hand to my forehead, wiping away the chilled sweat. Then, blinking, I saw a flash of pale hair in a pixie cut.

“Tink!”

She was standing beside another Guardian, near the entrance to an alley. Her head was bowed, and her hands were braced against the side of a building, but she turned at the sound of her name. I ran toward her.

A Harrower reached her before I did.

It crept upward out of nothing, seeming to slide right out of the shadow of the building. The Guardian beside her cried out a warning, and Tink spun, lifting her left arm before her. She managed to protect her face and neck, but I saw its talons curve around her arm and sink in. She jerked backward, and then dropped down, ducking beneath its arm as it slashed toward her again.

A second Harrower launched itself at the other Guardian. Tink had been able to fight hers back, forcing it to retreat and pushing the attack, though she let out a shrill shriek as she did so. It fell to all fours and crawled sideways, baring red teeth. She grimaced as she held her arm out in front of her, shielding herself with the faint glow at her wrist. It leaped. Leon and I arrived just as she killed it. He turned to help the other Guardian, but movement in the alley behind caught my attention.

There was another Guardian there, fighting alone.

He was a short distance from us, half-hidden by the darkness of the alley. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew immediately that it was Mr. Alvarez. He either didn’t realize or didn’t care that his powers were weakened, because he was taking on two Harrowers by himself. And winning. He tossed one into the side of a building and then grabbed the other’s throat, its spine going red as he swung it upward and then brought it down with a quick crack. The other recovered and renewed its assault, but Mr. Alvarez was already spinning, catching the arm it sliced down at him and yanking it aside. A third demon was slinking toward him. I dashed into the alley, Tink close on my heels.

I came to a sudden halt when someone else grabbed the Harrower from behind and raised it bodily into the air. With one quick squeeze, he crushed the demon’s throat. It twitched and then went still, crumpling to the floor of the alley.

“Oh God,” Tink breathed.

Behind the demon’s broken form stood Gideon.

I stood frozen, staring. For the space of a second, I thought Gideon must have recognized Mr. Alvarez and chosen to help him. But the hope was fleeting. Gideon stalked forward, and the look in his eyes was anything but friendly.

Verrick had hated other Harrowers even more than he hated the Kin, Shane had told me. It was Verrick I saw now. Verrick I sensed. I felt the thrill of satisfaction that burned in his gaze, and the hard knot of hate that coiled inside him. He had Gideon’s hair and Gideon’s face, but the wide curve of his lips was more of a sneer than a smile. I searched for some sign I recognized, a trace of the boy I knew—hidden, waiting. It was Gideon who had sat hunched in my room, dripping rain. He must be there still, within the wrath that rippled off him.

I spoke his name, but his eyes were fixed on Mr. Alvarez, who had killed the other Harrower and now turned toward him.

“Don’t,” Tink shouted, but neither of them heeded her.

I couldn’t move. I could only watch in horror.

Gideon had reached Mr. Alvarez before I could blink—before I could remember that he was who we’d been searching for and I had to find some way of disconnecting him from the Circle. He caught Mr. Alvarez by the neck and whipped about, his fingers once again closing, tightening. Tink screamed. My stomach churned. But just when I thought it would be over—that I’d hear a snap and then see Mr. Alvarez’s head twist, his body slacken—he fought back. His left arm swung upward, Guardian lights bright at his fingertips. His hand gripped Gideon’s face. He broke free, falling backward, and rolled out of reach. Then he was on his feet again. He went on the offensive, striking out at Gideon.

They grappled for a moment. Mr. Alvarez attacked and Gideon evaded, and then the roles reversed. Mr. Alvarez retreated once more, ducking, rising, his left arm seeking Gideon’s throat.

Gideon caught his arm, and this time Mr. Alvarez couldn’t escape. With his other hand, Gideon grabbed Mr. Alvarez below the chin, raised him into the air, and flung him into the side of a building. Mr. Alvarez crashed against the wall and then slid to the ground on his side. He didn’t move. Gideon advanced.

The paralysis that had swept over me didn’t grip Tink. She flew forward, darting into the space between them and turning toward Gideon. She held her left arm before her, glowing softly, and though I could see her shaking—her entire body trembling—she screamed at him. “Gideon, stop!”

And abruptly he did.

There it was, I thought. That flicker. The slightest shifting within the cold hatred he carried. He looked at her. His smile faltered. His lips parted. Some word whispered out of him, too faint to hear. Then he turned and ran.

He was nearly out of sight by the time I released my breath. He disappeared down the other side of the alley, racing into the foggy gray darkness that swelled into the street beyond. It closed around him, thickening—and he was gone.

Leon had joined us. I felt his hand on my shoulder, and for an instant I tensed, until I saw him step beside me. We hurried toward where Mr. Alvarez lay on the ground, near the side of the building. He was so still I worried he was dead.

Tink was standing over him. “What are you doing?” she demanded. “Get up!” And then she dropped to her knees and shoved him, hard, until he rolled over onto his back.

“Tink, he’s hurt,” I said.

His eyes were open, though. And instead of grimacing in pain, he was giving Tink a distinctly annoyed look. But he didn’t try to rise to his feet. He just rolled back over away from her.

“He’s giving up!” she shouted, still shoving. This time he resisted, curling onto his side. “After all his talk about duty and protecting the Kin, he just quits.”

He covered his face with one arm. “I told you—”

“To make a choice. Well, I did. And I’m here. I’m scared out of my mind, but I’m here, and if I can manage that, then what the hell are you doing?”