Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMD17192HYK0YMA5P9839M

Aurora Carter stared at the closed door of Eva's flat, heart pounding against her ribcage. It had been months since she’d last stood here, although the scent of spices from the curry house below still greeted her like an old friend. With a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked. The door swung open to reveal Eva, her fiery hair pulled into a messy bun. Shock flickered across her face before she schooled her features into a neutral expression. “Rory. What are you doing here?” “Hello to you too.” Rory sighed, shouldering her bag. “Can I come in?” After a moment’s hesitation, Eva stepped aside. Rory brushed past her, the familiar clutter of the flat enveloping her like a comforting hug. Books and papers spilled across every available surface. Ptolemy, Eva’s tabby cat, wound himself around her ankles, purring. Eva shut the door behind her, the sound of the deadbolts clicking into place oddly reassuring. Rory turned to face her, taking in the freckles dusting her nose, the green eyes that saw too much. Words bubbled up inside her, all the things she wanted to say, needed to say. But she swallowed them down. “So, why are you here?” Eva asked, crossing her arms. “I need your help,” Rory admitted. A flicker of something — hope, maybe — crossed Eva’s face before being squashed. “With what?” “It’s complicated. I —” Rory cut off as the bathroom door opened and Lucien Moreau stepped out, towel slung low on his hips as he ran a hand through his wet platinum hair. His heterochromatic eyes widened as he saw her. “Well, well,” he drawled, “look what the cat dragged in.” “Luc,” Rory said, pleased at how steady her voice was. “I didn’t know you were here.” He shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Eva and I have been... catching up. Rory’s gaze flicked to Eva, who was studiously not looking at either of them. “Right. Catching up. Of course.” Silence stretched between them, awkward and heavy. Rory’s mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation for why she was here, now, when the last time she’d seen either of them had ended in tears and recrimination. “Eva,” Luc said, “why don’t you and I continue this later?” “Fine by me,” Eva muttered. “Actually,” Rory interjected, “I think it would be best if we all talked. Together.” Luc raised an eyebrow, his expression turning calculating. “Very well. Shall we?” He gestured for her to sit on the battered sofa, already moving to settle himself next to Eva on the floor. Rory hesitated before joining them, her heart sinking as she noticed the pillows and blanket strewn across the floor. Had they been sleeping down here? Together? No, she wasn’t going to let her thoughts go there. She had bigger problems. “Alright, Rory,” Luc said, leaning back against the sofa, his bare chest distracting her for a moment. “What’s this all about?” She took a deep breath and then launched into an explanation, trying to ignore the weight of Eva and Luc’s gazes on her. As she talked, detailing the danger she found herself in, the strange dreams that had started plaguing her, she noticed Eva frowning. When she finished, silence reigned. Luc and Eva exchanged glances, something unspoken passing between them. “Well?” Rory demanded, frustration bubbling up. “Are you going to help me or not?” Eva sighed, rubbing her temples. “We’ll help,” she said at last, “but Rory —” “I know,” Rory cut her off, “I haven’t exactly been the most reliable of late. But —” She paused, trying to find the words to express just how desperate she was. “I have nowhere else to turn.” “And we’ve never been the ‘turn the other cheek’ sort, have we?” Luc said, voice wry. “I’ll start looking into that symbol you mentioned.” “And I’ll double-check some of my books,” Eva chimed in. “See if there’s anything that could explain those dreams.” “Thank you,” Rory breathed. Luc levered himself to his feet, offering her a hand. She hesitated before taking it, her skin prickling where they touched. In the space of a heartbeat, she was back in that room above Silas’ bar, Luc’s body pressing her into the mattress, his hands skating over her skin — She cut that train of thought off abruptly, schooling her expression into neutrality as she stood. What was past was past. She couldn’t afford to dwell on it. “You should rest,” Eva said, reaching out to touch her wrist before letting her hand fall. “You look exhausted.” Rory almost laughed. Exhausted didn’t begin to cover it. But she nodded, allowing Luc to guide her to the sofa. Sinking into the cushions, she felt the weight of her eyelids grow heavy as exhaustion crashed over her. She barely noticed as Luc draped a blanket over her, his face a mask of carefully controlled concern. So, Eva and Luc were protecting each other, she mused as sleep took hold. How had that happened? When had that happened? But there was no time for self-indulgent questions, not when her very life depended on the wits of her estranged friends and the secrets held in dusty tomes. Rory’s last coherent thought before she slipped into darkness was a silent prayer that they would find a way to save her from the nightmares that had started to bleed into her reality. Because if they failed, she didn’t know who could help her. And something told her this was only the beginning of a very dangerous path.