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“He has been with me … lately. He was supposed to see Vincent by now. Do you think Vincent said something that changed Alec’s whole position about us? I mean, he
did
say it’s forbidden for us to be together.”

“Claire, Alec is crazy in love with you. There’s no way he changed his mind about anything. Maybe he’s still negotiating with Vincent, and he doesn’t want to call you until he’s wrapped that up.”

“Maybe.”

“Seriously, I’m not worried about Alec. I’m worried about
you
and this whole cougar thing on the hill. What does it mean?”

“I don’t know. But it was terrifying. And Helena, whoever she is, sounded really upset.” Claire sat up cross-legged on her bed, frowning. “Maybe she’s getting confused. ’Cause in the vision, I was wearing this really expensive dress I saw today, that I am
never
going to own.”

“Huh.”

“What am I supposed to do, Erica?”

Claire could almost hear Erica’s frustrated shrug through the phone. “I don’t know. But she said last time that Alec was supposed to protect you. So ask Alec.”

“You mean, if he ever calls me,” Claire replied with a heavy sigh.

The rest of the afternoon and evening inched by at a snail’s pace. Claire plowed through her homework, constantly staring at the phone and willing it to ring. As the hours passed, her worry grew. She tried calling Alec again, twice, and sent another text message. No answer. Something was wrong—she knew it in her bones—and the only way to find out was to drive over to his place. But she knew her mom would never let her go out alone at night. It was agony waiting for her to go to bed.

Finally, when the sound of her mother’s even breathing was audible from the next room, Claire slipped quietly downstairs, stealthily grabbed the car keys from the entry table, and snuck out the door.

The ten-minute drive to Alec’s apartment seemed to take ten hours. Claire parked on the street. As she crossed the dimly lit lot at Alec’s tiny complex, she caught sight of his Mustang in its usual spot and felt a surge of relief. He was home!

Claire sprinted up to his front door, where she stopped to collect herself, resisting the urge to hammer against it.
Everything is going to be okay
, she reassured herself. Alec would have a good reason for not calling, and together they’d figure out what to do about the latest message from Helena. She knocked quietly and waited. She heard stirring from within, and then the curtains parted slightly as someone peeked out, although she couldn’t see who.

There was a pause; then the sound of the series of locks sliding.

The door creaked open.

Claire’s blood froze. It wasn’t Alec who answered. The man standing before her was tall, black, handsome, and clad in an expensive, gray, three-piece suit. She’d never seen him before in her life, yet his dark eyes beamed with recognition.

“Ms. Brennan!” he intoned in a deep voice, smiling as he pulled the door all the way open. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

That’s when she knew.

Vincent.

twenty-eight

I
t’s okay
, Claire told herself.
He’s Alec’s godfather. He’s going to help you
. But for some reason, her stomach refused to unknot. When she saw Alec step into view and caught the miserable look on his face, all hope died within her. He was still wearing the same clothes as last night and looked as if he hadn’t slept at all.

“Claire.” Alec motioned toward the tall man beside him. “This is Vincent.”

“Do come in,” Vincent commanded.

Claire stared at them silently, her heart beating with trepidation. Alec’s eyes were full of pain and regret. Why? He’d vowed to reason with Vincent, to convince him to leave them both alone. Clearly, he must have failed. Which meant that coming any closer to Vincent could be signing her own death warrant.

Claire took two steps back. “No, I—I think I should go.”

Vincent’s smile widened. “Young lady, you seem nervous. Trust me, you have nothing to fear.”

“It’s okay, Claire,” Alec said quietly. “He’s telling the truth. We’ve come to an … agreement.”

Agreement?
Claire thought.
What kind of agreement?
If Alec had succeeded in securing their safety, then why did he look so upset? “I shouldn’t have come. It’s late. I really have to go.”

“Go where?” Vincent said quizzically.

Suddenly, there was a loud rumble and the concrete at her feet began to crack and fall away, creating a tremendous fissure on three sides of her. Claire screamed as she watched the destruction ripple outward, obliterating everything in its wake. She was left on the very edge of a precipice, hanging over an endless, deep chasm that rivaled the Grand Canyon. The city was gone.
Gone
. Only one structure remained standing: the single room of Alec’s apartment, which glowed brightly before her.

Panicked, she stumbled backward and teetered over the abyss, still screaming.

“Vincent!” Alec cried, infuriated.

Vincent’s hand shot out and grabbed Claire’s arm, pulling her to safety inside the apartment. “Shhhhh,” he admonished, “you’ll wake the neighbors.”

As Claire yanked her arm from Vincent’s grasp, she turned and saw, through the open doorway, that the world outside had magically been restored to its natural state. She gasped, reeling in confusion as her brain processed this rapid distortion of visual cues.

“Was that really necessary?” Alec crossed his arms in annoyance.

Vincent closed the door and leaned his lanky frame back against it, looking down at Claire with a mischievous chuckle. “I figured it was the most efficient way to get her into the room.”

Alec turned to Claire. “I’m sorry. He was just playing with your mind. Are you all right?”

Claire shook her head slowly, struggling to recover her basic faculties. She realized that the physical world hadn’t changed, that the chaos she’d just witnessed had simply been a series of images projected by Vincent—that she’d been standing on Alec’s doorstep the whole time. But she couldn’t stop trembling. She looked at Alec, wishing he would take her in his arms. Last night, he would have done so in an instant. He would have held her and reassured her that she was okay, that
they
were okay. But Alec was still standing several feet away, and made no move to come closer.

“I’m sorry,” Alec said again.

What was he apologizing for? Vincent’s terrifying illusion? For not calling her today? Or—for something far worse?

“You know,” Vincent asserted, gazing at her but still talking to Alec, “although unexpected, it’s actually fortuitous that she’s here, since we all sorely need to have a little chat.”

Claire swallowed hard, backing away from Vincent again, this time farther into the room. Every instinct told her to fear this man, that she wasn’t going to like whatever he said. “A chat?” she said uncertainly. “About what?”

Before she could blink, the studio apartment around them disappeared. Suddenly they were inside an elegant restaurant atop a skyscraper. A tuxedoed waiter stood beside a round, candlelit, linen-draped table, set with china, silver, and crystal for three. Through huge plate-glass windows, stars glimmered in the night sky, and the lights of a city sparkled all around them.

Claire gasped, so startled that she had to grab the back of a chair to steady herself.

“Stop it, Vincent,” Alec said, exasperated.

“Stop what? You know how I feel about your spartan accommodations. There’s barely seating for two, let alone three. We’ll be far more comfortable here.” Vincent gestured toward a waiting chair. “Please have a seat, Ms. Brennan.”

Claire glanced at Alec, wondering if she had any choice. Alec gave her a silent nod to go along with it, then flicked his gaze away. Reluctantly, she sat. What did Vincent want?

Vincent took the seat across from her, while Alec begrudgingly sank into the third chair. The waiter picked up a tall bottle of sparkling water and poured glasses for Claire and Alec. When he tipped the bottle over Vincent’s goblet, the liquid changed to a rich red wine.

“Thank you,” Vincent said. As he uttered the words, the waiter and the bottle vanished.

Claire caught her breath. She felt as if she were stuck in some kind of dreamworld—and she was a bundle of nerves. If she wanted to leave, she didn’t even know where the door was. What would happen if she drank the water? Unable to resist the impulse, she grabbed her glass and took a sip. It felt and tasted just like it should, though it didn’t quench her thirst.
This is so weird
, she thought, twisting her hands anxiously in her lap. When she glanced at Alec, he looked both angry and uncomfortable.

“So,” Vincent began, swirling his wine and sniffing it. “We have a
situation
here.”

Claire’s stomach clenched again. “A situation?”

“Yes. And apparently it’s up to me to control it.”

“This is not the way I wanted it, Claire,” Alec interjected tensely.

“But it’s necessary.” Vincent took a sip of his wine. “As I told Alec last night, it was one thing when he asked me to keep quiet about his high school escapades to the higher-ups. It’s quite another to expect me to ignore those escapades when—as it turns out—they break every cardinal rule in existence.” His gaze fell on Claire as he added, “Consorting with a human or typical Nephila would be bad enough, when you consider the ramifications of breeding together—”

Claire’s face grew hot. Did he actually just say
breeding
?

“—but consorting with a
Halfblood
is another matter entirely. And now that I’ve found you, it’s not easy to look the other way.”

“Why? Why do you care so much about me?” Claire asked. “So I’m a Halfblood, big deal. I’m not going to hurt anybody.”

“You couldn’t be more wrong, my dear. In truth, you are a ticking time bomb that might bring us all to war some day.”

“War?” Claire stared at Vincent, astonished. “
Me?
War with whom?”

“The Fallen.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Allow me to enlighten you,” Vincent said patiently. “The Nephilim outnumber us astronomically, and too many are joining the Fallen. You’ve already inherited your father’s gift of true sight—which, in and of itself, is enough to make you incredibly valuable to those who hate our kind. But your genes may also be hiding the other half of your father’s talents.”

“What other talent? What could the Grigori find so threatening?”

Vincent rewarded her with a Cheshire grin. “
That
would be telling. If you knew, you would start looking for signs of it and be tempted to explore it. But rest assured, you
are
a threat. In time, you could become stronger and more dangerous than anything we have faced in millennia.”

“There have to be other Grigori out there who have this power,” Claire argued.

“That’s not the point. You’re a
Halfblood
.
Whatever
powers you possess, you are closer to a Grigori in strength than anyone else on the planet—but you have the weak constitution of your fellow Nephilim. Regardless of any attempts
you
may make to resist, the Fallen will go to any length to recruit you to their side of the board.”

“This isn’t chess!” Claire retorted hotly. “I’m not a pawn to be manipulated!”

“No, quite right,” Vincent agreed. “You are a queen. But we can never be certain where your allegiance will lie. If the natural order of things prevails, as it usually does, you may choose to side with
them
.”