The smell hits me before the gate comes into view. Underneath it is the sharp chemical burn of architect blood. Darius has been busy.
Maddox stands at the gate with Ryker beside him.
Neither looks pleased.
The sky above is still dark, stars fading at the edges. Dawn’s maybe an hour away.
“He’s been waiting twenty minutes,” Maddox says as I approach. “Won’t cross the wards. Won’t leave either.”
Darius stands just outside the silver-lined boundary, immaculate as always despite the corpse at his feet. He’s dressed like he’s heading to a black-tie function—expensive coat, no visible weapons, not a hair out of place. The only thing ruining the picture is the severed head at his feet.
The architect’s skull is partially crushed. Black blood has dried across the stone.
“You’re making a mes
