Zara’s POV

  We arrived at the university late, fueled by a lead that pulsed with undeniable importance. One of the few faculty members on our list had been acting erratically—accessing restricted files at odd hours and vanishing from his usual routine. Kage and I had resolved to stake out the building, our hearts pounding with the secret thrill of catching him red-handed.

  The administrative wing was nearly empty at this hour, the lights dimmed, casting long shadows through the halls. Kage and I positioned ourselves near an alcove, keeping watch on the suspect’s office from a distance. The silence was thick, pressing against my ears, heightening every small noise—the occasional creak of the building settling, the distant hum of the ventilation system.

  Then we saw something. A lone figure navigating the corridor with practiced ease, his steps calculated and quiet. He wasn’t our suspect, he was someone else. Kage tensed beside me, “He is moving like a predator… I think that’s him.”

  We watched as the figure slipped into the office, his presence a ghost against the darkened walls. My stomach clenched. If the stranger was the killer, we needed to get in there and stop him before he could kill anyone else.

  “Let’s go.” Kage said as he stood up and began running toward the office. I didn’t even hesitate, I followed after him.

  We were too late. As we stepped into the room, horror stilled our blood. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the stale odor of despair. My heart hammered as I took in the body sprawled across the desk—the faculty member we’d tailed, his throat cruelly slit, a perfect, chilling incision.

  And looming over him was The Cleansing.

  Time seemed to suspend as our eyes locked. Those familiar, dead-blue eyes from my nightmares fixed on me. A shiver shook me to the core—he was always ahead, severing another strand of our twisted investigation. Tilting his head, his lips curved into something between a warning and a taunt. “You can’t save them, Zara. And you won’t save yourself.”

  In an instant, he moved.

  Kage reacted immediately. Shadows exploded from the floor like living creatures, advancing with feral intent toward The Cleansing. The killer was elusive, dodging with inhuman precision. He rolled beneath Kage’s frenetic assault and, in one fluid, dangerous motion, unsheathed a gleaming blade.

  Kage barely evaded the merciless slash, his jaw set in grim determination as he counterattacked—conjuring darkness that snared The Cleansing’s wrist. The killer convulsed as muscle met magic, but Kage’s hold did not waver.

  I rushed to the body, dropping to my knees beside the fallen faculty member. My hands pressed against their cooling skin, my breath shallow as I blocked out the chaos around me. I had no power to fight, but I could still do something.

  Closing my eyes, I reached out with necromancy, the tether of his soul connecting to me. A searing agony surged instantly—his pain, raw and unmitigated, crashed over me. My chest constricted, lungs burned for air I wasn’t allowed to breathe. Phantom blades sliced through my skin, drawing hot blood that streamed along my flesh. Amid the torment, a flash of The Cleansing’s face—those empty eyes and that twisted smile—haunted me.

  Then, impossibly, the professor’s body twitched, took a ragged gasp as life clawed its way back into him. His limbs convulsed violently, his lungs dragging desperate breaths as if surfacing from drowning. In a fleeting moment, his eyes locked onto something beyond the room—beyond me.

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  A second set of eyelids flickered shut and then open again, a distinct physical trait that marked him as magical. A sharp realization struck me like a blow to the chest. This man had been one of our suspects, but we had no idea he was magical.

  Kage’s shadows surged forward, wrapping around The Cleansing like living tendrils, tightening with unrelenting force. But the killer was fast—too fast. With a sharp, twisting motion, he wrenched free, using the very momentum of Kage’s grip to propel himself backward.

  Before I could react, he threw himself into the darkness beyond the door, vanishing into the shadows of the hallway.

  Gone.

  A curse ripped from Kage’s lips as his shadows recoiled, reaching desperately for a target no longer there. My pulse pounded, my hands shaking—not from fear, but from frustration. We had him. We had him, and he slipped through our fingers.

  Then a ragged cough shattered my thoughts.

  I spun back toward the victim. His body convulsed, lungs struggling to pull in air. He was alive—but barely. His skin was pallid, his breath uneven. I had pulled him back from death’s grasp, but it wouldn’t mean anything if he didn’t get medical attention now.

  “Kage, help me!”

  Kage was already moving, reaching for his communicator as he pressed it to his ear. “We need an ambulance at—” He rattled off the location while kneeling to steady the man.

  I tore my gaze from them, scanning the room for anything that could still help us. My eyes landed on something perched on a nearby desk—a skeletal bird, its hollow eyes sockets staring lifelessly ahead.

  An idea took hold.

  Without hesitation, I rushed to it, stretching my fingers toward the delicate frame. Power surged beneath my skin, the familiar pull of death’s energy responding to my will. The air around me grew thick, charged. As soon as my hand brushed against bone, the bird moved.

  A tremor ran through its fragile frame as it twitched, its head jerking upright. Then, with an eerie rattle, it spread its skeletal wings and took flight, hovering just above the desk.

  I locked eyes with it, my magic still tethered to its form.

  “Follow him.”

  The bird didn’t hesitate. With a single, weightless beat of its hollow wings, it darted toward the open doorway, vanishing into the dim corridor beyond.

  Beside me, Kage shifted the wounded man’s weight onto his shoulder. “We need to move.”

  I nodded, casting one last glance toward the bird as it disappeared into the night. Go. Find him.

  We had lost The Cleansing. But we had saved a life.

  Kage and I stood outside the recovery room, exhaustion settling into our bones. The faculty member—the man I had brought back—and the young boy from before were both stable now, resting behind the glass.

  Detective Hall arrived not long after, his frustration thick in the air as he rubbed his temple. “No new leads.” His voice was a growl of irritation. “The kid barely remembers a thing, and the professor? Last thing he recalls is signing paperwork. Didn’t even see the attack coming.”

  I crossed my arms, feeling the weight of failure pressing in. How did the killer always stay ahead of us?

  Then—

  A sharp thud slammed against the window behind us.

  The sudden noise sent a jolt through me, and we all turned.

  Hovering just outside the glass was the skeletal bird.

  I rushed to the window, ignoring the way Hall muttered a startled, “What the hell—” under his breath. Sliding it open, I stepped back as the bird flapped inside, landing gracefully on my shoulder.

  The moment it settled, something deep within me stirred. Its bones rattled faintly, and though it couldn’t speak, I knew. Its message imprinted onto my mind like an echo from beyond the veil.

  The killer had disappeared into the subway system.

  I let out a slow breath, my fingers brushing the bird’s fragile skull. “You tried,” I murmured. “You did your best.”

  The bird tilted its head before taking off again, this time gliding toward the bedside of the faculty member. It landed near him, wings folding in, as if standing watch.

  I understood. It had been born from death, but even in undeath, it sought to protect its owner.

  Turning back to the others, I found both Kage and Hall staring at me with identical expressions of bewilderment.

  Kage was the first to break the silence. “How the hell does it fly?” He gestured vaguely toward the skeleton. “It doesn’t even have feathers.”

  I smirked, rolling my shoulders. “Magic.”

  Then, without another word, I turned and walked away.