* * *

“Let’s go.” The young man still had a hold of my arm, despite my best efforts at freeing myself.

I should have been frightened, for even now we were making our way to the entrance of the building. But he was moving me away from Bael, and this made me believe that we were somehow on the same side.

The crowd seemed to part as we moved through it, the young man commanding a strange, unspoken respect as everyone stepped aside.

“I can walk on my own, you know.” I tried one last time to wrench free of his grasp, but his fingers were like a vice on my arm.

“I have no doubt,” he said. “But I think you should stay close. It seems we may have company.”

It took me a minute to understand what he meant, but as we reached the door, I looked back to where Bael had been standing. Then I understood.

He was no longer there.

I felt a rush of utter fear followed quickly by shame. Fear could not co-exist with vengeance.

“Can you at least tell me your name?” I asked as the young man pulled me out the door and into the cold night.

He sighed, and I marveled that he could sound so bored when it seemed we were both on the run. “It’s Asher. Now will you be quiet until I think of a way to get us out of Bael’s sight?”

His words silenced me as nothing else could. They were confirmation that he did, indeed, know Bael by name. I had never heard the demon’s name spoken aloud except by my Mother and Father.

That meant the young man holding my arm could only be one thing.

I knew there were other Descendants, though they were scattered far and wide. Underground for their own protection against filth like Bael. And though we knew the Assassins were among us, attempting to quell the execution of the Descendants, we did not speak of them. They moved silently among the shadows of our world, doing their duty without worldly aplomb or association.