Valeria Nocturne's Arc

Chapter 3 of 4

Valeria left the archives with the night humming against her skin. The stolen file weighed on her more than her own folder ever had. She turned toward her sister's cafe, needing one steady voice before dawn. The pink coffee house glowed ahead, its windows warm against the dark street. She never reached the front door. A shout cracked from the alley behind the cafe. Valeria ran, boots skidding on wet stone, and rounded the gothic dumpster where the trash lamps flickered. Vexxir lay against the dark metal, one hand pressed to her ribs. Her white hair was streaked red. A tall shape in a wide hat and ragged cloak stood over her, blue lenses glinting like cold lamps. The Mourning Monster. Valeria's breath stopped. Then the tavern door down the lane banged open. A pack of drunks spilled out laughing, lanterns swinging, voices loud and stupid and beautiful. The hooded figure jerked back, melted into the shadows, and was gone before Valeria could draw her blade. She dropped to her knees beside Vexxir. "Stay with me." Vexxir gripped her wrist, jaw tight. "I saw the mask," she said, calm and clipped. "Long beak. Blue eyes. He knew my name, Val." Among the stumbling witnesses, one figure stood very still at the lane's mouth, a plague mask under a wide hat. Mortis VonPlaag. He stared at the blood, then at his own gloved hands, and murmured, "Another. I was too slow. Again." Valeria pressed her cloak to her sister's side. The killer had hunted her blood now. The alliance with Xander was no longer about clearing a name. It was about keeping Vexxir alive.