"Third time's the charm, right?" Alicia asks, standing close to Oliver's side as her stomach knots.

They haven't spoken of the kiss, nor does she expect them to until this mess is done. But it still lingers in the back of her mind, a whisper of what she wants and she can't look at those wants too closely. Not yet.

"You two lead the way," Sam grumbles from beside them. Only the three of them. They can't risk more lives if this goes horribly wrong and the confidence the others have in this plan doesn't help her nerves at all.

Alicia sighs and treads forward, the map in one hand and a lantern in the other. Oliver already has his gun drawn as they slip through the hole in the wall and into the pitch black tunnels within.

Cocooned in the smell of old stone and the cold darkness, Alicia tries not to note the familiarity of it all. She doesn't want this place to be familiar. Their footsteps echo around them, bouncing against the dark stone. The further they walk, the stronger the stench of decay becomes. The back of Alicia's neck itches but she forces herself to press onwards, focusing on the map that shakes in her grip.

They walk for hours in absolute silence, each of them terrified of disturbing the dead. But they encounter no Ghuls, and Alicia doesn't know whether that makes her feel better or worse. If they're not here, then that means they're out there. Alicia doesn't even want to toy with that idea.

"Here," Alicia finally murmurs, her feet sore and her eyes straining in the flicking light as she takes them down a familiar passage.

Too soon they're entering the wide chamber of stone coffins and an endless ceiling. Alicia's pulse throbs in her throat as she stares at the place she discovered Ghuls, where Oliver was bitten, where she promised herself never to tread again.

She shoves the map into her satchel, reaches out, and grips Oliver's forearm, unable to take her gaze off the yawning space before them. The belly of Muovea where every child's nightmares linger in the dark.

"What now?" she manages to get past her dry lips.

"Now we find the one that'll listen," Sam says, moving past them and further into the huge space. Alicia hesitates before she follows, gaze darting to the coffins around them, some with their lids closed, some partly crumbled and empty.

They follow Sam until she stops before a coffin, upright and different from the others. Sam brushes her fingers along the coffin, the metal black. She reaches forward before Alicia can argue and yanks the coffin open.

She nearly runs. Every muscle in her body stiffens and prepares her to bolt right back out of that chamber as the metal screams from the build-up of rust before swinging open. Her grip on Oliver's arm tightens to the point where she knows it's painful, but he doesn't pry her fingers away.

Stepping back, Sam observes what she reveals with her hands fisted at her sides.

It doesn't matter how many times Alicia sees them, how often she meets those cold, icy gazes, the shiver that rakes down her spine will never go away.

The Ghul is awake, those eyes piercing into them. Its mouth is muzzled by iron and its grey, muscular skin is criss-crossed by chains rusted from time.

Whoever put this creature here didn't want it escaping.

Alicia watches Samantha suck in a deep breath and wipe her hands on her pants. "Let's get this over with then," Samantha says, steel arching into her spine as she lifts her chin as though she balances something upon it.

Oliver clicks back the hammer of his gun and Alicia holds her breath. The weight of Muovea's future seems to settle in the room and take the air from it.

Sam reaches forward with trembling fingers and unclasps the muzzle from the Ghul's face. The creature jolts, air rasping past its papery lips. A feral growl rumbles in its chest, but beyond that it doesn't react as Sam stands before it, meeting light eyes with dark ones.

"Do you know who I am?" she asks, uncertainty wavering her voice.

Alicia presses her lips together as bile rises in her throat to see the Ghul tilt its head forward, almost like it's acknowledging her.

Without severing eye-contact, Sam begins breaking away the creature's chains. Some of them she has to use the butt of her gun to shatter. Oliver keeps his gun level with its head.

Once the chains have been removed and the Ghul is free, Sam steps back. The creature stays in its upright coffin for a moment, eyes of chipped ice assessing each of them. Pieces of cloth is still draped over its sinewy body, rotted and torn and dirty.

Too easy. It all feels too easy. Why the other Ghuls hadn't released each other is an enigma she can't wrap her head around. It's a question that itches at the back of her mind, telling her not to trust anything.

The Ghul steps forward, taller than any of them. Alicia's heart near leaps from her chest as the creature extends a hand. Oliver's finger twitches on the trigger, but he doesn't shoot, not even as the creature's gnarled fingers brush against Sam's cheek in an almost gentle caress.

"My queen," the creatures says, it's voice a mere croak. The Ghul bows, dropping its chin and lowering itself to Sam.

The answer to her question reveals itself. The Ghuls were waiting for Sam.

Alicia looks up at Oliver with wide eyes, wondering if he's seeing the same thing she is.

"Well, that was easy," he murmurs, shoving his gun back into the holster under his arm.

"Please, don't jinx it," she replies.

Oliver offers her a wry smile, but it's dashed as there's a scuffle behind them and they turn together.

Alicia's heart plummets to the Reaper's den. Staring back at her are hundreds of glowing blue eyes, all fixated on Sam. Hulking figures shift in the shadows. Alicia is struck frozen as they stand around them, huffs of breath leaving the creatures, the clinking of their armour echoing through the chamber.

But they don't attack.

As they idle, Alicia takes the moment to study the army before her. She notes that each and every one of them has a deep scar on their chest, right over their heart, and wonders what the purpose of it is.

She has too many questions, too many that she knows will remain left unanswered until this battle is done and their lives aren't narrowed down to the few grains of sand left in their hourglasses.

"There's still preparations to be done," Alicia says, clinging to Oliver's arm, reluctant to let go as that army still stands before them. "I need to go."

"I'll stay with Sam."

Alicia finally pries her eyes from the Ghuls and looks up at Oliver. She intertwines their fingers and squeezes. "We have an army. We can win."

Leaning down, Oliver brushes his lips to her forehead. "We can win," he repeats, then Alicia is slipping away from him.

The Ghuls step away from her, carving a path through them. She doesn't look at any of them. She keeps her head down, her gaze on the stone beneath her feet, and prays to whatever gods are listening that they aren't being fools.

The sun wanes in the sky and dips beneath the smoke of the factories in the west when Alicia reaches the apartment and bar. Her mind is scrambled as she thinks upon everything over and over.

They have an army. An army of immortal creatures that Samantha Safronov somehow controls. She should be glad that the grand duke isn't the one holding the reins to those creatures, but... she can't help fear the price that these actions will demand paid.

Up in the apartment, she scrubs the sweat and grime from her skin with water before changing clothes. She winds her crimson scarf around her neck, fingers brushing over the worn fabric.

It was her mother's. Taken from her wardrobe during a cold night with a slip of paper clutched in her hand, an address scrawled on it in her ma's neat script.

The treasury, that's your target. If you see the physician, kill him.

Alicia yanks the scarf off of her neck and shoves it into the bottom of her satchel, hoping to bury the memories down there too.

She doesn't know what is going to befall her family after this fight is over, all she knows is that her ma must pay for her part, just as Alicia is paying.

All she wanted for so long was her family to be put back together, for the pieces to be righted. Alicia should have realised it was a fool's errand when Nathalia used Alicia for her own gain in the slums.

Stuck in her memories, Alicia only hears the creak of a step before the crash breaks through her quiet. Alicia spins around as someone barges into the room. She only has a moment to react as she sees the man's uniform and the others behind him.

She reaches for the gun within her satchel but her hand gets tangled in that fucking scarf. Before she can find it, a soldier grabs her upper arm and yanks her towards him. She feels the cold press of the revolver against her temple before she hears the click of the barrel rolling into place, the next bullet prepared to enter her skull.

Her entire body stiffens, and all she can do is stare as the grand duke enters the apartment, resplendent in his fine, chestnut suit, his tie tucked neatly into his waistcoat, his greying hair slicked back. There's a curl to his thin lips as he glances around the apartment, soldiers kicking through their belongings.

She and Oliver would never be so stupid to leave any evidence lying around about their plans. But as one of them picks up Kathryn's sword and inspects it, her stomach clenches.

"You're becoming predictable, Alicia," the grand duke says, looking at her with his jade gaze. "You have a weakness for your family, and no matter how many times it's exploited, you make the same mistakes." He raises a hand to reveal a torn piece of paper, her address written on it. The paper she gave Adrian.

Alicia closes her eyes so he can't see her tears. "Adrian," she whispers, the pain in her heart making it difficult to breathe.

"Your brother made the right choice. Now you need to. Come with me, Alicia."

Opening her eyes, Alicia glares down at the hand he offers her. "Go fuck yourself," she says, getting a hold of herself and injecting steel back into her voice, refusing to be cowed by a man who's no better than the scum that attacked her when she was a girl.

"Don't make the same mistakes again, little Zalana."

She looks at him and she sees her pa, his blood, his life fading from his eyes that were a mirror to her own. What more can he take from her that he hasn't already?

Her gaze flicks around the apartment, the place that Oliver will return to. The duke doesn't know Oliver lives, but if he did...

Reaching forward, Alicia allows the grand duke to take her arm, his grip bruising.

"Good choice," he says.

Alicia doesn't fight him as he leads her from the apartment though she can tell he came expecting a fight, expecting to have to face the woman he's heard stories of, probably spat from her own mother's lips.

Betrayal tastes a lot like loss.

The horses and carriage wait amongst the mist, the fog curling and winding through the streets. Come dawn, the Grey Bloods should be at their walls and the only thing standing between the undead and the people of Muovea are monsters wrought in legends only whispered about.

The duke opens the carriage door for her, but a shout splits the silence of the night. Alicia whips her head towards the noise, recognising the voice better than her own heartbeat. Oliver runs through the mist, already reaching into his coat for his gun. He's too far away for Alicia to see his face, but she can only imagine the desperation there, watching her get taken away again.

No, he shouldn't be here. He shouldn't show himself to the grand duke.

The duke shoves her into the cart, jumping in after her, and then they're lurching forward, leaving behind the decrepit buildings and uneven dirt.

Alicia doesn't look back, not this time. She already knows she's left her heart with Oliver. All she can hope for is that Sergey doesn't realise who he is. He'll never be safe again if the duke knows he lives.