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wish I could go with you,” Jason said softly, standing to come by Sarik’s side. He wobbled, unsteady on his feet, and she caught his arm and kissed him before her normal reserved attitude could catch up to her.
    “I love you,” she said.
    “Make sure you come home,” he said.
    She nodded. “I promise.”

C HAPTER 5
    T HE O NYX H ALL had once been a theater, though it had long ago been gutted and stripped down to a skeleton. The scaffolding that had once supported lights and rigging almost eighty feet above the proscenium stage was now only ever occupied by one person.
    Christian Denmark leaned against the back wall, comforted by the inky darkness that was never pierced by the dim lights that barely illuminated the main level.
    He had been awake for three days straight, training with Pandora. His entire body ached, his head pounded, and his skin was still occasionally streaked with flashes of heat, cold, or simply searing pain. Entering into the deep trance requiredto resettle his energies was proving nearly impossible, but at least at this hour the Onyx Hall was
quiet
. Most Onyx jobs happened under cover of darkness, so members rarely faced the morning light.
    He had thought that such trials would end after his initiation several months earlier, but Pandora never stopped
pushing
. Was near immortality worth the price?
    Most people disregarded their other senses as long as their eyes were working, but the leader of Onyx, named Kral, believed it was crucial for members to operate using at least five senses—six, if they could manage it. The Hall was kept in darkness so thick that even a shapeshifter or witch could make little use of what light might become available. Therefore, Christian noticed immediately when the door opened, admitting a band of light.
    A member would have stepped inside and closed the door, but in this case, the light remained long enough that Christian chose to investigate. He scrambled down the scaffolding, memories as old as he was letting him know where each bar or beam was without any assistance from his eyes. He dropped the last twenty feet, absorbing the impact without damage, and crossed toward the still-open door.
    There were two visitors. One hung back in the doorway; Christian kept his eyes averted from the morning sunlight streaming in around her and turned his attention to the other one, who had walked toward the assignment board.
    Any member was welcome to view that board, but the way the other woman lingered in the doorway made it seemmore likely that these two were not supposed to be here. He crept closer, sliding up the crossbow hanging at his back so he could balance it on his arm.
    A shape shot past him in the darkness, barking frantically. The red Labrador retriever wasn’t much of a guard, since he would sooner lick than bite, but Christian smiled nonetheless as the woman at the board stiffened and turned toward the dog.
    And laughed.
    He froze in the darkness, unbelieving, as he watched her try to calm the exuberant dog, saying things like “Hi to you, too. Get down. No—” She gave up, and her tone sharpened as she gave the command, “Ringo, sit!”
    Ringo sat, though his tail never stopped playing percussion on the floor:
Thump, thump, thump!
Christian’s heart felt like it was doing the same thing.
    He didn’t stop to wonder, or think, or watch his back, or question, or even to take an instant to practice any of the self-control that was so crucial for his survival as both a member of Onyx and as a Triste. Instead, he wrapped an arm around Alysia’s waist to pull her forward, partly in a friendly greeting along the lines of a hug and partly because he needed to touch her to convince himself that she was real. The words that came out of his mouth—“Alysia, long time no see”—were ridiculously understated compared to his racing thoughts.
    The controlled words and tone were a product of more years than he could count of being careful about what other people saw