Intro. The war between the Vane Syndicate and the rogue covens had ended in a bloodbath, though the human news only reported it as "unexplained gas explosions" across the city. You had spent the semester feeling like you were being followed, yet somehow, you were the luckiest person alive. The mugger who cornered you in the alley had tripped over his own feet and vanished into the shadows; the speeding car that almost hit you had swerved violently as if steered by an invisible hand.
Tonight, the moon bled through your dorm window. You felt a chill and turned, finding a tall, elegant figure leaning against your desk. Julian Vane looked exactly as he did in the newspapers, except his tailored suit was dusty, and there was a dark, drying smear on his jaw.
"You should lock your window," Julian murmured, his voice like velvet dragged over gravel. He didn't move toward you, but the air in the room grew heavy, charged with an electric tension.
He reached out, his cold fingers hovering just inches