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Nilam's little lair at his nightclub feels overcrowded with all of us here. I hear Ady and Kadri fidgeting on the couch behind my back, Laverna's fingernails drumming against the bookshelf, Yaroslava's restless feet moving back and forth around the room. I stare out the window, at the empty roof and the sunbathed city beyond, trying to find a distraction.

I can't.

"And that's how you plan to catch a serial killer?" Ady asks, his voice incredulous. Yaroslava and Nilam start explaining something, but Ady cuts them off. "Terrible. No."

"It's amazing!" Yaroslava counters. Jasna's long pleated skirt suits her just as terribly, and I hate my eyes for shooting sideways at her every time she passes near me. But this skirt outlines her silhouette so well..."Instead of chasing the wind, we force the wind to chase us."

"Using Jasna as bait? No way."

"She'll be fine. She's practically stone-skinned now, neither the natural nor the supernatural can harm her."

"I think it's a good plan," Lav interjects, her tone cautious.

Ady snorts.

"Do tell if you have a better idea, Adélard," Yaroslava hisses at him. I keep my trained eyes on the city landscape when she walks inches away from me again. She sounds neither uncertain nor weak as she used to only a few days ago when she just woke up from the abyss. No, her voice is full of determination, of eagerness to take the matter into her own hands, to take over the control. The feeling I know well, that excites, that fills you with power. She's made her decision.

Her decisions were what got her killed once, I remind myself. And yet she never gives up. Stubborn hope woven into the air about her sinks its claws into me from behind, poisoning, taunting. She's lost her family, she's ruined her life, she's died, and she's still hopeful? There must be a trick. A person should be exceedingly stupid or extremely cunning to appear that way. And she's not stupid.

I remember the touch of her fingers on the scars of my back, and it sends a shiver of warmth down my spine again. I haven't shown my scars to anyone, I've put an effort to cover them for my whole life. And now I've opened up to Fire Girl, got lost in a moment, believed her eyes lit with empathy.

She was supposed to call my scars ugly! She was supposed to say that I must have deserved them.

And she didn't say it. Why didn't she?

No, it's a trick. She's desperate to stay alive, she doesn't care for anyone. She doesn't actually trust me but merely wants to be trusted. And she'll ruin everything on her way to her goal as she always does. Her feelings can't be real. Neither can mine.

But if I see all that, why does my mind fail to follow the logic?

I need to think of something else. Otherwise, I'll go crazy.

I turn to the others, ignoring Yaroslava who's stopped too close to me. "It's not a good plan." I ignore her, but she's close enough for me to extend my hand and hold hers. So close. "And it's definitely not perfect, but it's the only one we have. There's a problem though. What do you suggest to do once we trap the killer in that Bloodcage of yours?"

Yara's resolve falters as she and Nilam share a glance. Nilam looks away quickly, yet I catch a glimpse of his eyes, feverishly bright. He's not waiting for us to agree to this plan. He's lost family, too, he knows the sorrow the magic can cause, and now he's ready for his vendetta.

Perhaps that's why he and Yara team up so effortlessly--they understand each other. And none of them needs me.

Shit. Is it what they call jealousy? It was easier to feel nothing.

Swallowing the unexpected ache in my chest, I look at everyone in the room. "You're not suggesting to surrender a supernatural hunter to the police, right? Because that can end up in a bunch of police officers slaughtered. Remind us, Fire Girl, how many didn't stand a chance against your magic the night you died?"

Her confidence vanishing completely, Yara bites her lip. I almost kissed those lips of hers, didn't I? "Three. I think."

"So all who came to the crime scene?"

"I didn't mean to hurt those people, Mir. I just failed to control my magic."

"And you weren't even trying? Wonderful. Now we're talking about the killer who'll definitely be trying."

"Why are we even discussing this?" Kadri hops off the couch. For a second, she watches Nilam assembling his vials and herbs he's already prepared, then her angelic face darkens with some sinister thought of hers. "We'll just kill the killer."

Shock washes over Ady's features. "Kadri!"

"What? We didn't come here to talk about flowers and rainbows, did we? Sometimes it's mercy to prevent a person from doing mistakes spoiling their soul and spirit. And we'll take one life to save many."

"But--"

I stop Ady with a wave of my hand. "A consistent notion." But who am I to judge? "But who's ready to face a frenzied serial killer magically equipped beyond our knowledge then?"

Silence.

"Anyone? That's also considering the killer is a mere human."

"Human?" Lav frowns. "Who else would that be?"

Yara shoots me a worried glance, a mute question in her brown eyes. She realizes now that nobody knows about the demon part. And now she'll wonder why I've kept it secret, why nobody but her knows about Vlad and why nobody but me has met him.

I'm ruining it all, too, don't I? I'm ruining the story I've been skillful telling her so far, the one where Vlad is the only monster.

An icy shiver slithers down my spine. No, not the feelings, not now, I school my expression into something rather blithe. "And considering that none of us warns the killer beforehand."

Everyone in the room stops midbreath and midmotion, perplexed. This is the moment I've been bracing myself for. Father used to say life was a lot like court--you threw an accusation into the air and just waited for the criminal to take it personally and begin defending themselves. The problem is, everyone here today takes it personally.

"What's that supposed to mean, Mir?" Nilam slams his box of vials shut. "Are you saying one of us is to blame?"

I shrug. "Yara's bones are gone. Somebody took the bones from where we stashed them and hid them in a different place. They're still at the apartment, though I don't know where. Since the thief knew the apartment was spelled and knew that the bones couldn't be moved over the threshold of the front door unnoticed--I say it's one of us."

Ady runs his hand over his short hair, his forehead wrinkling. I can't say if he's nervous or angry. "And you're saying it just now?"

"And you haven't tried to find the bones?" Lav crosses her slender arms across her chest, she's definitely angry.

"What for? I'm patient, Laverna. I can wait for the traitor to slip up and expose themselves."

Her bangs swaying, Kadri tilts her head to look at Yara, to ask something.

"I didn't steal my bones," Yara snarls. "Don't look at me."

"I believe you."

And one by one, Nilam, Adélard, and Laverna echo Kadri's words, agreeing. It makes my chest tighten, it's like listening to your own thoughts being vocalized--the thoughts you don't want in your head. Because I believe her too, damn it! But if Fire Girl is not a thief, then she's also not a liar. I am. And I still haven't told her everything about my past.

Not now, I muster a courtly smile, concealing my disquiet. "Great then, it's sorted. One of us, excluding Yara, stole the bones. One of us is working with the serial killer."

Adélard starts laughing at my accusation--at first--but then his expression grows serious. Soon, nobody laughs, nobody blames another, but we all know what we're thinking. Adélard casts a grim look at Nilam who peers at Kadri who eyes Laverna. Yaroslava's gaze is fixed on me while I stare straight at the window, refusing to meet her eyes.

After another second of suspicious stillness, Nilam clears his throat. "I know another ritual. If it goes well, we won't need the police, we'll be able to get rid of our villain for good. Destroy their very existence. Their soul."

Lav's face pinches with concern. "And if it goes wrong?"

"We all die."

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