Chapter 14 · Marked for Purge

The Guild's extraction team showed up at dawn.

I heard the boots first. Heavy, synchronized, the kind that don't bother with stealth because they don't need to. Drake was already awake, standing by the window with his phone pressed to his ear. He'd been on that call for twenty minutes. His jaw was tight.

"They're here," I said.

He ended the call. Didn't look at me. "Stay inside."

"Drake—"

"I mean it, Ella." His voice was flat. "This is Guild business."

I crossed my arms. "Guild business that involves dragging you back to New York because you've been sleeping in the same house as a Darkborn."

He finally turned. His eyes were bloodshot. He hadn't slept. "I can handle Vera."

"She's not here to talk."

The knock on the door was three hard raps. Official. Vera didn't wait for an answer. The door swung open and she walked in like she owned the place, flanked by four hunters in tactical gear. Silver-loaded crossbows. Sanctified rounds in thigh holsters. They fanned out, two covering the stairs, two covering me.

Vera looked good. She always did.