They gathered in Chloe's penthouse like a council convened around a coffee table, faces drawn, hands curled around mugs gone cold. Zoe sat rigid on the edge of the sofa, legs tucked beneath her; Melinda's jaw was a hard line; Diana had not sat, fingers worrying a strand of her coat as if she'd have to move at any moment.

Noah leaned back against an armchair, one hand still pressed to his side, nostrils flaring as he replayed the memory in his head.

Lucius lounged in an exaggerated slouch, ...