The city well, it didn’t sleep. Manhattan had pulsed with neon veins and some metallic heartbeats, yet in the narrow alleys and rooftops, the silence pooled thick and alive. Marcus perched on a gargoyle above the 42nd Street, his coat whipped in the wind, his eyes all fixed on the skyline.He wasn’t watching the traffic before him. He wasn’t even watching the glowing Sterling Tower where his fate had been severely mocked. He was listening—to the heartbeat of something that was far older.The amulet below burned against his chest like a stylish brand. Each pulse dragged another fragment of his memory from the deep depths: steel was ringing against the steel, warriors all kneeling in rivers full of blood, his own voice now booming across fields of ash. The fragments was all blurred and very twisted until he now clutched his head, a low growl ripping from his throat.“Stop,” he hissed, as he slammed his fist into the stone firmly. The gargoyle was now cracked. “Not now, and definitely no

Automatically, the limousine was now totally ruined, all smoke curling from its shattered hood where the shadow-fire had licked all across the steel before them. The broken glass now littered the street. The police sirens were all closer now, there was an urgent chorus just cutting through the silence that followed Marcus’s great victory.He leaned against a fractured wall, and his chest heaving. The amulet now still just pulsed like a second heart, every beat dragging into fragments of his forgotten life closer to the surface. His blade now hung at his side, its expectant glow fading slowly, and reluctantly—it all happened as though even the weapon wasn’t yet ready to let go of battle that lid before them.Diana now knelt in front of him, her designer heels grounded against the debris, her perfect gown all torn at the hem. She should have been furious, these heels were five. thousand dollars. She should have walked away, demanded a lot of explanations later.Instead she was now tr

Rain slicked the streets of the old Manhattan town, all coating the glass towers in a sheen of liquid fire. The lightning all flashed, revealing the city not only as humans saw it, but as it truly was: the wards all flickering across the rooftops, signs all carved into steel, and entire buildings all humming with some trapped entities.Marcus had pulled his coat tighter, Shadowbane now hidden but so close at hand. Beside him, Diana moved like she already belonged in the shadows, her gown from the gala was now replaced with a black leather pants and jacket, her hair all pinned back. And now a Sterling princess was now a turned infiltrator.Their target loomed ahead of them: The Astralis Archive, the Sterling family’s was the most tightly guarded vault of contracts, the bloodlines, and the supernatural history. Every dynasty had one of these. Few survived trespassing in it without being hurt.“You’re sure about this?” He asked, his eyes scanning the security patrols, the glowing signs

The tunnels and subways beneath Manhattan were so dark, very damp, and all littered with graffiti that all glowed faintly with very runic residue. Marcus’s boots echoed so softly against the cracked stone on the floor as he walked, every sense so sharp, every nerve braced with determination. The Shadowbane rested so well in its sheath at his hip, its hum so steady, as though it was aware of the danger lurking ahead.He hadn’t intended to come here tonight. But the amulet had very much pulled him literally. A sudden surge of heat fell against his chest; earlier he had been guided into the bowels of the city, away from the neon skyline and the bustle right above, toward something so ancient waiting in the dark.The wreathed tunnels branched into some forgotten chamber where old columns jutted from the walls, all scarred by centuries of clawed marks. At the center was a very massive spiderweb of some black crystal, all suspended between stone pillars like some grotesque shrine, and trapp

The night was cracked open; all the demons were now poured from all the alleyways like a tide of teeth and many claws, their bodies all slick with shadow, their eyes all burning with otherworldly hunger. Some all slithered across the walls like some insects; others all lunged on all fours, their fangs now dripping like black ichor.Diana didn’t flinch; she didn't have to. She was raised with her silver pistol and pulled all the triggers. Each shot now blazed with so many runes, all streaks of argent light now punching through the creatures and all exploding them into some vapor. The air now rang with so many thunderous echoes.Marcus’s blade was now already alive in his hands. The Shadowbane now glowed with some celestial fire, a ribbon of all-white light cutting arcs through all the swarm. Where it struck, demons now died—instantly, all mercilessly, as if unmade by something way older than existence itself.For the first time that night, Diana’s eyes now flickered to Marcus; he had f