THE PARKING LOT IS SECLUDED, down a narrow alleyway, and behind a white-bricked building with abundant ivy weaving up its masonry. She becomes a lot less confident when the car comes to a stop.

They're being waited on by Nyx, wearing a black bomber jacket and tight jeans. Her blonde hair has been pulled out of her face, and without her pantsuit, she's casually gorgeous and scary. Stanton leans a shoulder against the shiny red car they're lingering near, and he's talking to her in low tones. His throat is bruised—a nasty purple in the shape of Kiernan's fingers.

Lucas doesn't seem bothered, even though he's a fugitive about to saunter up to someone working for the agency that's hunting him down. He clicks his seat belt.

"Don't worry," Lucas reassures upon seeing Hannah's conflicted expression. "Agents work on their own, but there are protocols. Attacking Kane and the conflict of interest by going after Nyx's sister could get them both black-bagged. Seeing me and not calling it in, just that alone, they're done if this ever gets out."

Hannah exhales, relieved. "That's—"

"That doesn't mean they won't try killing us to keep their involvement quiet."

"You're serious?"

"That's what I would do."

She can't tell if he's messing with her because he grins, but there's a forcedness to the gesture. He's not composed like she initially thought. He unzips his jacket and doesn't move to check his gun that's holstered at his side. She can see there's a slight shake in his fingers.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Lucas assures. "Been running for seven years. Slipping back, I guess." He gives her a gentle smile, but his eyes are cold, and she doesn't recognize who he's become for that fleeting moment. He looks away. "Alma and the coin. Then we leave."

Hannah nods. "Okay. Let's focus on that."

Maybe they should have switched their teams, as Reid was referring to them early this morning. But Reid made sense, and he has a smile that's sweet enough to give her cavities, which ensures he always gets what he wants.

Lucas and Kane are their toughest fighters, so they're the leaders. Reid had to go to the werewolves, and Kane won't leave him. Rowan couldn't be left alone without protection. Kiernan refused to be apart from Reid because of Gabriel's orders. And there's no way Hannah was leaving Lucas to go alone.

They need to get a lead—anything to gain the upper hand on that monster, Azrael, who has a month on them every day that passes.

So here she is.

She's never felt more watched as they leave the car. 

She didn't know what to wear to a club in the morning hours. She ended up choosing a dark purple dress with a frill on the bottom and some lacing around the modest collar, with a jean jacket, paired with her mucked runners. 

She feels a little underdressed for potentially slaying vampires. But Lucas didn't try, either. He's dressed just as casually in his jacket, unzipped, giving a glimpse of his coral t-shirt beneath, and dark jeans.

She focuses on the weight of the small pistol in a holster that's occasionally chaffing against her inner thigh. The holster thing was annoying to put on and fastened around her lower stomach and the fatty part of her upper leg. It might be irritating to wear, but she's grateful, and even more so when Kane helped her put it on while she was clad in lacy underwear—she'd been quite satisfied when they'd deviated and he'd left her sweaty and panting.

She's sure that Kane bought it especially for her when. He poofed away after conceding to a heated argument with her. He didn't want her to go with Lucas. He was worried in Kane's way, which was cursing and laying threats to all lives involved if anything happened to her. His concern touched her heart. But she can handle herself. She has been for years.

She's not used to carrying a strapped weapon that's not inside a purse. She'll have to ruck up her dress if a fight breaks out that needs her to be armed and awkwardly unfasten the pistol. She'd practiced, but when she bent over at that time, trying to get the damn weapon out, Kane hadn't looked approving. He looked grim.

Nyx pushes away from where she's been leaning against her car. She somehow makes sauntering towards them sensually catlike. "Lucas Amala." She tips her chin to meet Lucas's taller stature. "There are rumours about you."

"I bet," Lucas replies coldly. "Never heard of you."

Snorting, Nyx looks at Hannah. There's nothing said, but Nyx's gaze flickers over her form. There's a bout of self-consciousness that's short-lived because Hannah's left with the urge to squirm at the slight smile that grows on Nyx's lips when they meet eyes. It's not unlike Reid's smirks, which hold a promise of wickedness if you so dare give in to their beckoning.

Nyx looks so much like Francine; it's jarring, but there are differences that Hannah notices from a fleeting scrutinization: the scar near her hairline, her eyes are fuller, and her fair lashes are longer.

"Hannah Rainer," Nyx says to Hannah amicably. "Your father was a tough man."

Hannah has the urge to blurt, 'I wouldn't know', but instead replies, "You knew him?"

"No, I heard rumors. Everyone has."

Stanton breaks the awkward conversation by coming to stand beside Nyx and saying in a hushed voice, "We're Bureau agents. All of us. That's the cover." He hands Lucas a fold of black leather, and Hannah doesn't miss the way Lucas hesitates before taking it and flipping it open. It's a badge with a golden triangle. "They're not going to know fakes in there. Flash that if you get pushback, they'll give us what we want."

Hannah takes the one offered to her. "Me? I don't look like an agent. Do I?" Lucas could pass for big and mysterious. Stanton is wearing an olive-green jacket and casual jeans, which gives him a secret agent, professor feel. And Nyx has the whole sexy undercover cop vibe. Hannah looks as if she's going for a leisurely walk in the park on a sunny day.

Nyx snorts. "You're his seer."

Hannah's heart leaps. She recalls Gabriel and his hungry gaze when he found out about her curse. "No, I'm—" She's quieted by a hand landing heavily on her head and blinks up at Lucas, unsure.

Lucas explains with a strained smile, "Agents always have a seer as their partner."

"Oh," Hannah replies dumbly. Then, her eyes widen, and she looks at Stanton, and he gives her an icy glare. He's obviously not forgotten about her nearly murdering him with Kiernan's help. She asks the agent warily, "You're a...you can see the future?"

Nyx laughs. "No. He'd be in Calloway." She gives Stanton's paling expression a sympathetic smile that seems genuine. "He can feel intentions. He's got to touch someone, though. Kind of shit."

Stanton glares at Nyx, and she pats him on the shoulder with a wide grin.

Feeling a weight on her chest, Hannah tries to even out her breathing. Stanton scares her more than Azrael or their uncertain futures ever could because there's a chance he saw the real her when she touched him in that kitchen. Her true intentions. He's seen the twisted side she tries to shove down. Those deranged yearnings Valrus's presence had made flourish beyond her control with his dark musings and soft, addicting lips.

Nyx grins at Lucas. She takes her phone from the pocket of her jacket. "You're a seer."

Lucas parts his frowning lips to reply, but Nyx's phone is shoved into his face. He skims the screen. "Fuckin'..." He looks disturbed.

"What does it say?" Hannah asks worriedly.

For Hannah's benefit, Lucas reads aloud with a curt tone: "Lucas Amala, seer Class A. Asha Reyes, seer, Class A. Armed and dangerous. Highest priority. To be brought in alive—"

Nyx retakes her phone before he can finish reading. She taps the screen before stuffing it back inside her jacket. "There's a rumour that you fell in love and ran away. Some modern-day Paris and Helen crap."

"Not far off," Lucas admits.

Nyx snorts.

Hannah asks, "What's, uh, Class A?"

Lucas points to Stanton. "Class B. Not good enough to have a target on his head." He pretends to not see Stanton's glare in reply. "Then there's Class A; that's the most powerful; they keep them locked up tight. Important."

Nyx rocks on her heels. "You're really important, big guy."

"No," Lucas replies coldly. "I'm the only one to survive Asha's gift. That's all."

Stanton nods. "They briefed all the agents on you and her. You stayed at Calloway for a few weeks." At Lucas's tentative nod, Stanton continues, "You are a seer; at least that's what they think; you're the only one that didn't have flashes of vision, but you, yourself, were in them, interacting physically. They want you back." He frowns, and there's a spark of curiosity flickering in his dark eyes. "Could you...change the future?"

"What?" Lucas pales.

"You're physically in Asha Reyes's visions..."

Lucas replies honestly, "I don't know." He's uncomfortable, his gaze averting to the swaying trees at the edge of the parking lot.

Silence stretches as that heaviness settles over them all.

Changing the future? That kind of gift could be world-ending or fix everything. He could make sure they win every battle. He could know everything that would happen and make sure the best outcome would meet them.

Hannah decides quickly that, no, that power would be frightening. There's so much that could go wrong.

Hannah breaks the smothering silence by beginning, "Stanton. You touched me—"

"You touched me," Stanton snaps, and his anger isn't unjustified; she did nearly smother him to death.

Lucas's gaze snaps to the agent sharply. "Watch your tone." He stares down Stanton's risky glare, which lost most of its fire when Lucas spoke that deep, frightening tone he only implores when he wants to make someone piss themselves. 

Nyx gnaws at her lip, and it's the first apprehensive reaction that Hannah's seen. Not even when she'd faced Kane in his drunken wrath had she reacted with anything but cocky confidence. 

"Come on." Nyx shoves Stanton by his shoulder, towards the bricked building painted black, and when he obeys, she begins murmuring against his ear in a low tone.

Hannah looks at Lucas when he doesn't follow after the agents. He has a finger slipped inside the flip-badge and stares at the leather glossiness intensely. "Want to run while they're not looking?"

Lucas looks at her, smiling a little.

She wags her badge. "We could use these to commit crimes."

"Good idea."

Hannah smiles as Lucas's arm drapes around her shoulders, guiding her toward the building and the departing agents. She's glad for the touch, grounding her from her panic that had been growing, knowing there's a chance Stanton read her.

What did he see? She wants to believe that her intentions are pure, but there's a nagging in her mind that tells her she knows better. Did Valrus corrupt her, or was she always like this?

She whispers covertly, "So, if everything goes to shit..."

"We'll steal the badges," Lucas whispers back. "Then we'll rob a bank."

"A bank?"

"The Bureau has its hands in everything. You'd be surprised."

"How about we stop an armoured truck while they're moving all the cash and then rob that?"

Lucas hums thoughtfully. "Specific. Ambitious. It could work." He taps his dangling hand against her bicep absently. "How would we hide all that cash? It's suspicious. Kane would have questions. He's a goody."

They spend the entire walk to the front of the club creating a detailed scheme of how they'll use their stolen Bureau badges to rob an armoured truck. They'll bury the money. They'll use Nyx's and Stanton's names. They'll never tell Kane or Reid, letting them question why there are wads of cash everywhere. They decide they'll become a criminal duo by night. Once they're rich enough, they'll buy a house in the tropics.

Hannah's phone vibrates in the deep pocket of her dress, hidden behind frills, as they reach the black double doors. There's a neon sign above: Club Dionysus.

She stops mid-step to read the message, and the arm draped over her shoulders slips away, but she hardly notices.

Kane has texted: Are you alright?

Yes. Are you?

Her phone vibrates. Yes. Then another vibration. Kane has sent a heart emoji, and you better stay that way.

She's sure that her cheeks are bright red with how heavily she flushes when she sends a heart back with a tap of her thumb. Then she looks up and frowns; three sets of eyes are on her, waiting. Nyx looks bored, Stanton's glaring, and Lucas's brown eyes are warm.

"What are we waiting for?" Hannah chokes, flustered. She stuffs her phone into the pocket of her dress and pushes the door open, ignoring Nyx laughing at her in a low, velvety timbre.

The bright lighting contrasted with the sunlight outside has her blinking away a blur as her eyes adjust. The club is empty, which is no surprise; it's not open officially for another seven hours. 

A man who had been leaning over a black, glossy bar writing on a stack of papers calls out, "Can I help you? We're closed."

Nyx has her badge out, flipped down to show off the gleaming triangle. "We're from the Bureau."

Hannah is dumbstruck. She knows this guy who walks towards them in a crisp white shirt and black slacks. Nathan. Fucking Nathan. He liked cats and was helping his brother open a gym. Nathan, whom she pointed a gun at for not taking advantage of her.

Nathan looks at the badge. "Why is the Bureau here?" He knows about the supernatural world, then. He still has his piercings from when they met. He did mention something about a job when he wasn't helping his brother open his gym. This must be what he meant.

Nyx doesn't answer, looking around with a cursory sweep of her brown eyes over the shadowed corners of the empty club. "Are you the only one here today?"

"No," Nathan says. "My boss is in the back."

Hannah tries not to let the shock show on her face. Could Alma be here right now?

Then, Lucas steals all attention when he says in an authoritative voice, "Take us to your boss. Now."

She doesn't blame Nathan for hurrying to obey. Lucas is frightening when he wants to be. Nathan's gaze sweeps over her, and then it's gone without a hint of recognition. She takes in a deep breath of relief when he turns away, which earns her a curious look from Nyx.

"Through there," Nathan says with a slight shake of nervousness in his voice. He waves a hand for them to follow.

This isn't the first time she's been inside a nightclub, but in the morning, empty and devoid of sweat-clad bodies, it's weird. Black leather furniture with the occasional crimson fabric of an ottoman, or low sectional. Black tiling and black walls. Short staircases lead to a dance floor. It's classier than the ones she's used to however. The bar is shiny and the floor is clean. And her runners don't stick to anything mysterious as they make it to a back door under a staircase that leads up to a mezzanine.

She's frightened. She can't deny that it settles in her gut and twists like a knife, but a girl is suffering at the hands of a sadist waiting for Hannah to rescue her. Whatever greater power is giving her these visions, it wants her to continue down this path. She's sure of that. There must be a reason that she's been shown Francine suffering on repeat. 

She has to press on.

Nathan unlocks the handle with a tiny key he takes from the front pocket of his jeans and ushers them through, letting the hinges creak shut on their own. The slam causes Hannah to flinch. 

They're in a dimly lit hallway. A dying lightbulb flickers overhead. The smell of cigarettes is heavy. And murmured voices waft from the left, around the bend of a corridor that leads further into the building.

They're led down some winding corridors. And then, to a metal door that screeches when it's opened. The room has crates of boxes and shelving filled with more boxes, touching the low ceiling. Bare lightbulbs hang from above, giving off an orange glow. The voices grow louder, and Hannah can hear that it's not words wafting; it's men's jeering laughter.

Her blood runs cold. The cruel noise moves up her spine like a dozen crawling spiders. She stiffens, but Lucas lays a hand on her lower back, steering her forward, not allowing her to falter, and at a glance, his expression is uncomfortably cold. He looks like a different person. There's no warmth from the man she's been laughing with behind his brown eyes. 

He's in a similar mode to what she's seen Kane slip into during a fight, just colder.

They follow Nathan further into the room, weaving through and past walls of stacked wooden crates. The floorboards creak beneath their feet, sounding their approach, and then they're in a large, open area.

What she sees has her stomach plummeting down to the blood-stained floor that sticks to the soles of her runners.

Three men—no, three vampires. They're dressed nicely, with glinting jewellery and shiny shoes, out of place in the carnage that they casually stand in. A vampire stands off to the side, and two sit at a table, laughing with each other, like it's any other day.

The vampire that's standing near some crates with his arms crossed, blonde hair, and dark, nearly black eyes looks at their approach. He appears to be in his late thirties, perfect in a way only vampires can pull off. His gaze that flickers down her form gives the sensation of vile fingertips dancing across her skin, but his power pales in comparison to Reid's, and she finds that she's hardly affected, where a week ago she'd have been more than weak-kneed.

"Cale," Nathan says to a blonde vampire. "They wanted to see you."

"He's a mage," one of the vampires, sitting at the table, remarks in confusion. "They all are." He's rising from his chair, and Hannah can feel the way Lucas stiffens slightly. This vampire is muscular, the biggest of the trio. Black hair tucked behind his ears, and there's a perceptiveness to his eyes that has Hannah on edge instantly. "Why would you bring them back here?"

Nathan parts his lips to answer, but then his gaze flickers to her, and slowly his eyes widen. "You're—I remember you. She's crazy!"

Hannah gives Lucas's curious look a shrug. "Must be thinking of someone else." She glares at Nathan, and he shrinks back. "We need to talk to your boss. Alma. He's expecting us."

"He's not here," the muscular vampire says with a crooked smile. "Leave your name and number. He'll get back to you."

The other vampires laugh.

Nyx steps forward but stops whatever she'd been about to do with a clenched jaw when Lucas says, "You're smuggling back here." With the stacked crates and the copious amount of blood staining the concrete, Hannah can guess it's nothing good. "What? People?"

Cale scoffs. "No. Werewolves." He gives the looks he receives from his brethren a shrug. "There's no use in beating around the bush about it. They know Alma's here today. Why else would they come asking?"

Hannah's heart leaps with apprehension. She should call Kane, but she's worried that if she makes a move for her phone or slips away, the vampires will see it as a threat.

Lucas asks, "Where is he?"

"He wasn't expecting anyone, but I won't fight you." Cale looks Lucas up and down, searching for something that he apparently doesn't find because he scoffs. "Go down there if you want to die."

Then Cale returns his attention to the crates, crouching and tilting his head to look into the narrow space between, and mutters, "It's not coming out."

"Let it rot in there," the muscular vampire says with a deepening frown. "It has to come out sometime." He looks up then, narrowing his eyes at Lucas, and parts his lips to speak, giving a glimpse of his fangs.

But Cale interrupts, "I wanted to break this one. It's so small."

"Stop whining," the muscular vampire snaps.

"I'm not. I'm disappointed."

The vampire, who's been quietly watching until now, with curly brown hair, suddenly slaps the table. Hannah flinches, and he smiles at her maliciously, showing off his fangs. She shivers in apprehension.

Then he looks at Nyx, licks his lips, and tilts his head. "Hi, beautiful."

"Hi, asshole." Nyx grins. "Did we forget to mention we're with the Bureau?"

It's as if uttering the word 'Bureau' is the fuse to a powder keg.

Hannah is suddenly on her ass with pain erupting up her hip because Lucas has shoved her.

Cale is the fastest at drawing his weapon and points it at Lucas with a vicious expression. A hefty pistol that gleams silver.

He pulls the trigger.

The shot rings through the air, and Hannah flinches, letting out a choked scream she doesn't mean to let slip from her lips.