Blue picked up a cross wrapped in a talisman. The charm pulsed faintly, its edges scorched. It had been yanked from a shallow grave—whoever buried it hadn't cared if it stayed hidden.
Ethan stared at it, frowning. "So someone really is targeting you," he said, voice low but strangely upbeat, like he was trying to keep things from spiraling.
Raphael stepped closer and rested a hand on Blue's shoulder. "Don't worry—we've got you," he said, but even he looked uneasy.
Behind them, something dragged across the dirt.
Aria emerged, hauling a corpse by the ankle. The body left a deep groove behind it, its limbs flopping like meat. Her face lit up at the sight of the talisman, her smirk sharp as glass. So that's what he was doing, she thought, eyes gleaming.
With a casual flick, she let the corpse drop. The thud was wet.
The sound turned all heads.
"Uhm... Aria?" Blue asked, awkwardly scratching her cheek. "How'd you know we needed you?"
Aria raised her hand and plucked a golden strand of her hair. It writhed in her palm like a parasite, twisting unnaturally as it crawled up her wrist.
Blue flinched.
"And the freak gets freakier," Raphael muttered under his breath. He'd seen Aria fight—she moved like something out of a nightmare. Inhuman. Predatory. If she ever turned on them, they'd be dead before they blinked.
Aria smiled, unfazed. "I put two strands inside Ethan's body. I feel it when his pulse spikes."
Ethan recoiled, patting his chest and arms like he could find the threads and rip them out. "I feel so violated."
Blue, fascinated, leaned in and snatched the strand from Aria's palm. "That's so gross," she whispered, awestruck. "I love it."
Aria laughed. It was a little too breathy. "Perks of working with Death."
Her words dropped like a cold stone into silence.
Before they could ask questions, sirens screamed in the distance, echoing through the trees.
"Don't leave the body," Blue barked.
Aria slung the corpse over her shoulder with ease. They bolted for the car—but there was no room for the phantom.
"What do we do?" Blue asked, heart pounding.
Aria snapped her fingers. Wind surged around them in a howl. A shadow tore through the clouds, massive and sinuous. The sky rippled.
A dragon burst into view—long, serpentine, scaled in deep obsidian. Its eyes glowed red. Smoke billowed from its nostrils as it touched down with a snarl.
"We fly. You drive," Aria said as she climbed onto the creature's back.
"Yeah, definitely a freak," Raphael muttered, stepping back.
The dragon lifted off, the corpse cradled between its claws, disappearing into the fog above.
They reached the lake first. The dragon circled once, then landed with a hiss, steam rising as it dropped the corpse on the wet grass.
Raphael stumbled out of the car, pointing. "What the fuck is that?!"
Aria ignored him, fishing the phantom's core from her pocket. It was still pulsing faintly—warm, almost alive. She tossed it into the air, and the dragon's jaws snapped shut around it.
It growled, throat rumbling like an earthquake. A shiver ran through the trees.
"Yeah, I know. Tastes like rot," she cooed, stroking its snout. "But I'll find you better ones."
"It's… sentient," Ethan whispered.
"She's talking to it," Blue said.
"Yep," Raphael muttered.
With another snap of her fingers, the dragon vanished—like smoke sucked into a vacuum.
Aria turned to them, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm from Hell."
They froze.
"In Hell, there are ranks. Families. The strongest descend from the Seven Deadly Sins. Each Sin rules a nation, separated by unbreakable barriers."
She looked up at the sky, eyes unreadable. "I'm from Aurora—the strongest nation, A nation my great-grandfather Lucifer Morningstar created."
Blue gaped. "That makes you—"
"A princess? Technically."
Ethan blinked. "Should we bow or something?"
"Please don't." She snorted. "That thing? That was one of my familiars. Ryu. He's a phantom. I broke him and made him mine. My blood flows in him now."
"Why tell us this?" Raphael asked warily.
"So you don't scream the next time one of them shows up," she said simply. "And because we've got worse things coming."
"You have more of those?" Ethan asked.
"Just two."
Blue nodded, though she looked pale. "Do you… have powers? Fire? Flight?"
Aria's gaze flicked toward her. She remembered the blue flames Blue conjured earlier. "Not exactly. Why?"
"No reason. Just curious," Blue said quickly.
Raphael stepped forward, jaw tight. "Focus. Someone is hunting her."
Ethan leaned against the car, eyes dark, locked on Aria. "She can stay with me. My place is empty most nights."
Raphael raised a brow, a smirk twitching onto his face. Kara never stood a chance.
"Or she could stay with me," Blue offered, looping her arm through Aria's. "For protection."
Aria pulled away. "I'm not your pet. I've got things to handle."
And just like that—she vanished into the trees.
Later that night, Aria slipped through her window and landed in darkness.
"You've been busy," Hardin said coldly, flipping on the light. It flooded the room, revealing the blood on her clothes.
She blinked at him. "If you're here to hook up, I'm wiped."
He eyed the blood. "And catch something? No thanks."
She collapsed onto the bed, face in the pillow. "So what do you want?"
"There's a party tomorrow. Your dress arrives in the morning."
She raised her head. "Okay." Her voice was flat—part confusion, part dread.
He turned to leave.
"Take off my shoes," she muttered.
He slammed the door in reply.
She laughed into the pillow. He's so dramatic, she thought, peeling off her shoes herself.
*****
Morning filtered in through violet curtains. Blue lay still, exhaustion heavy in her bones.
Her door slammed open.
"Blue! What the hell did you do?!" Jackson shouted.
She groaned, not even opening her eyes. "Not now…"
"School's shut down. Three holes in the building walls. Pipes are fine. It's you, isn't it?!"
She rolled out of bed and staggered to the bathroom.
"I was out with Ethan and Raphael," she muttered, staring at herself in the mirror. Pale. Dark circles. Ghostly.
Jackson sighed. "I'm gone all day. Rio's coming by at four."
Her face twisted in disgust. "I hate that guy."
"He's my boyfriend. Try being human."
She spat into the sink. "I'll try."
He left.
She lifted her shirt. The bruise had darkened, stretched across her ribs like rot. She flinched as she cleaned it, her breath catching.
'I'm staying in today...'
The doorbell rang.
Blue let out an annoyed groan and paused the series she'd been watching. She dragged herself to the door and swung it open, irritation ready on her face—until she saw Ethan standing there, holding a bag of Chinese food.
"You weren't answering your phone," he said as he shimmied past her and made himself comfortable in the living room.
"Oh yeah, it's on mute," she replied, shutting the door and trailing after him.
"I love this show," he said, glancing at the frozen image on the flat-screen as he plopped onto the couch.
"Actually?" she asked, raising a skeptical brow.
"I mean who doesn't love a show about moaning corpses with better screen time than half the cast."
She burst into laughter. He never failed to pull her out of a mood. She flopped onto the couch beside him and reached into the bag, pulling out a familiar box of noodles. She grabbed the chopsticks and started eating without hesitation.
"God, I love these," she mumbled through a mouthful. "They're my weakness."
"I figured." Ethan opened his own container and stole a bite of hers. "Thought you might need them."
She paused, eyeing him. "What do you mean?"
"Remember what Aria said to us? About the Carrington family…"
"Yeah…" she said slowly, chewing more carefully now.
"Well, they're throwing a party tonight. Grand opening of the Blue Moon Museum."
She groaned. "Let me guess—you're invited."
He nodded. "I'm going to represent my dad. And I want you to come with me."
She gave him a look. "So… you're asking me out on a date?"
"Yes."
She crossed her legs and leaned in, smirking. "And you're trying to bribe me with noodles? I expected a far better invitation."
He set his food aside, got down on one knee, and extended his hand dramatically. "Blue Valentine, will you do me the honor of letting me take you out?"
She reached out and rested her hand on his messy hair. "Get up, loser. All you had to say was 'more food,'" she said, ruffling his hair with a grin.
He stood up with an exaggerated sigh. "I really didn't want to go alone."
As she stood with him, a sharp sting bloomed in her side. She winced slightly, shifting her weight and tugging her hoodie down more securely over the bruise that throbbed beneath it.
Ethan's eyes flicked to her for a moment. "You good?"
She forced a grin. "Yeah. Just moved weird. I'm fine."
He didn't press. Instead, he reached for her hand and gave it a tug. "Then let's go. We've got a wardrobe crisis to solve."
She followed, limping just the slightest bit behind him.