Chapter 8 · Deal Before Moonrise

Eliza found her in the hallway.

Vivian was still walking, still breathing, still trying to figure out how the hell she was going to survive the next twelve hours. Her neck throbbed where Lucas had bitten her. The bite itself didn't hurt anymore—vampire venom sealed wounds fast—but the memory of his mouth on her skin, the way his body had convulsed, the blood he'd coughed onto her dress, all of it played on a loop in her head.

She didn't hear Eliza coming. The woman just appeared at her elbow, heels clicking soft on marble, and said, "You look like you're about to run."

Vivian stopped. Turned. Eliza was alone. No council shadows, no Cyrus puppeteers. Just her, in a sleek black dress that probably cost more than Vivian's entire wardrobe used to, back when she had one.

"I'm not running," Vivian said. Her voice came out steadier than she felt. "I don't have anywhere to go."

"Smart girl." Eliza glanced down the hall, then back. Her expression was unreadable. "Walk with me."

It wasn't a request.

They walked in silence for a minute, past oil paintings of dead vampires and marble busts of deader ones.