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“No one knows.”

“Who is your father?”

“He is dead.”

“Was he a necromancer?”

“Yes. A shitty one.”

“I thought you were a witch.” He still tries to reason with it.

“I’m both.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You can’t be.”

“Wrong again.” I force myself to breathe through the pain. “Same as Julian.”

I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen Antonero Caruso shocked.

His gaze moves from me to Julian’s body and back. “Did you see who did it?”

“No faces. I saw the necromancers you killed. Ghouls too. And the ones torturing him, hooded. Most likely witches, but it’s not enough proof to throw accusations.” I try to sit up, and my body protests violently. “The memories are still settling.”

Nero wraps an arm around my waist and helps me sit up.

“I need to call Lex.”

His jaw clenches at the name.

“He’s been looking for Julian for two weeks,” I say. “But you… it’s better if you are gone. He’ll be pissed.”

“You think I care what some vampire thinks?” His eyes flash. “If he looks at me wrong, I’ll stake him myself. I’m not leaving you here.”

“Yes, you are.” I grip his arm because I need him to understand this fast. “This is your building, with a dead vampire prince inside. It looks bad. Very bad. Let me explain it to him. Seeing you here will only make it worse.”

“What if he hurts you?”

“He won’t.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“Trust me. Lex won’t hurt me.”

Rage moves through him immediately. It tightens his arms, hardens his neck, sharpens every line of his face. He looks at Julian, then at me, then toward the dark windows overlooking the city. I can feel the wolf coming out. Is he losing control little by little? For a second, I think he won’t leave. Then he steps back.

“Nero.”

I rarely say his name. It feels like a curse in my mouth. He stops.

“Don’t tell anyone. About me. About what you just saw.” My voice drops. “Please.”

He looks at me for a long moment.

Then he says, “I won’t,” and leaves me.

I stay alone with the dead vampire prince in the skyscraper that just became his tomb. I look at Julian. He was almost the same age as me. Same bloodline. Same addiction. Different ambitions. And one of us is dead now.

I gaze through the window at this fucked-up city and realize I can’t even remember why I loved it in the first place.