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I shook my head.

“No. That’s not going to happen.”

I kicked hard. Too hard. The sheets tore from my body. I sat up and shoved away the rest. I wasn’t getting any goddamn sleep tonight. Sleep refused me. The hunt didn’t.

Thunder rumbled in the distance as I pushed open my door and made my way along the hall to the foyer. I slowed, turned my head. But I couldn’t track her sound under the snarl in the skies.

Check on her.

She might need something.

I tore my focus away and kept moving, heading toward the library. My steps faded as I moved through the doorway and into the study. I didn’t hit the lights. Didn’t need them. Instead I reached out, pressed the button and heard the click.

It didn’t escape me how easy this was becoming.

The need.

The hunger.

The whisper of a name they used to call me… Revenant.

I pushed open the door and stepped through, leaving it ajar behind me and descended the steps. Lights buzzed overhead instantly, coming on one by one. I didn’t need them. Soft steps. Bare feet. A sharp sting came at my toe.

The glass.

“Goddamn it.” I snarled, stopped and lifted my foot.

The tiny shard sliced even further as I searched for the damn thing. I yanked it free, tossed it to the side and kept on moving. I hit the switch and the monitors came to life, humming and buzzing. I pulled the chair out and sat down. Shivers coursed through my body. I didn’t stop.

I hit the button and leaned back, listening to the old detail reports.

Incident 17A. Northern Estate Recovery. House fire fatalities. Containment confirmed.

I stilled. Went cold.

The choked scent of smoke invaded.

The roar of the fire.

The screams.

Then I reached out and hit the button for the next one.

House of Ash archive available. Accessed: Never.

I hovered my fingers over the mouse. There were files connected. The past. The House of Ash. Cassian Vale. Now this… clove man from Nyssa’s past. I logged into the account and replayed the crime scene. The knife. The dust. The glass left neatly in the table. Almost like… he luring us in.

That ancient hunger rose inside me.

I could hand it off to Rafe or the others. Leave it for London St.James to handle.

And any other time I would’ve.

If it wasn’t for her.

Nyssa.

So I reached up, hovered over the House of Ash files and hit play.