Transcendent

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being, at least. So we should all get clear of this place ASAP. While we still can.”
    â€œAgreed,” Toby said. “I don’t want to be caught hanging around anywhere Gunnar Starling might be headed right now.”
    Heather shivered. Neither do I , she thought, remembering what had happened on the train. She glanced over at Toby and did a double take. All of a sudden, he looked as if he’d been up for three days straight. There were deep shadows under his eyes and the beard scruff along the line of his jaw blurred the edges of what was normally a precision-trimmed goatee. His omnipresent travel mug full of coffee was missing in action and she wondered if the fencing coach wasn’t maybe going through major caffeine withdrawal. It was, she realized, a weird thing to think just then. But she wondered if anything in her life would ever be un-weird again.
    Especially when someone like Toby kept saying things to her like: “Do you still have the protection rune I gave you?”
    Heather sighed, accepted the weirdness, and nodded.
    â€œGood,” Toby said. “That’ll repel the Miasma curse when we’re on the ground, and it should help keep you safe from whatever’s coming. Saf er , at least.”
    â€œWhat about the rest of you?” she asked.
    â€œThe rest of us are . . . immune, through various means.” Toby shrugged.
    â€œRight. What’s your deal?” she asked Maddox, who was both disarmingly cute and distractingly competent in the way he handled himself. “Demigod? Demon?”
    â€œHuman, thanks.” He grinned at her. “But I have an impressive constitution. Eat right, don’t smoke, wear a talisman chock-full of really useful Faerie magick . . . you know. All that virtuous stuff. Makes me hard to curse.”
    â€œHandy,” Heather muttered.
    â€œPlus I have over a hundred years’ worth of martial arts training under my belt and that, in itself, tends to give one a bit of a leg up. I’m a firm believer in using every possible advantage to cover one’s arse.”
    Suddenly Heather remembered her own possible advantage—the little crossbow, with the gold and leaden bolts that a mysterious . . . someone had given her on a subway train—and she ran and found her purse where it still lay on the floor near the elevators. She slung it across her body and turned to see Mason walking toward her.
    â€œYo, Starling.” Heather waved casually. “How’s it hangin’?”
    Mason laughed wearily. “Oh, y’know. Typical Friday night. Werewolves, Valkyries, earthquakes, blood curses, and the End of Days . . . I expect a plague of locusts any minute now. You?”
    â€œWeirdly the same.” Heather grinned. “So. Where’ve you really been these last couple of days?”
    â€œWould you believe me if I said Asgard?”
    â€œI kinda think I wouldn’t believe you if you didn’t ,” Heather said. She glanced in the direction Mason had come from. “How’s super-bad hot blond doing?”
    â€œOkay, for now. Under control. Rafe says it’s never happened like that to one of his . . . uh . . .”
    â€œVictims?”
    â€œPack.” Mason shivered and hugged herself.
    â€œRight.” Heather nodded. “So—this Rafe guy—is like . . . what again?”
    â€œAnubis.”
    â€œLord of the Egyptian underworld.”
    â€œEx, yeah.” Mason nodded. “And—added bonus feature—god of werewolves.”
    â€œThe textbooks never mentioned that.” Heather noted dryly.
    â€œI know.” Mason laughed briefly and without much mirth. “Weird, huh?”
    â€œMakes sense.” Heather shrugged. “Look at all those tomb paintings of the guy.”
    â€œYup. Pretty werewolf-y.”
    â€œAnd so . . .” Heather hesitated. “After, y’know . . . Fenn is

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