Ren knew he should have walked away, but ever since boyhood, he'd had a habit of eavesdropping. So he stayed. And he listened.

The rustle of fabric. "Sit down with me?" Markos's voice was gentle. Affectionate. So unlike the way he spoke to colleagues and inferiors.

Movement, footsteps, and the faint creaking of wood followed. The Minister cleared his throat.

"I believe that the robbery, tonight's attack, Luiza's abduction—all of it was retaliation."

"For what?" Nika exclaimed. "Until now, we didn't know they even existed!"

"Shhh, not so loud. What I'm about to tell you goes against my vow as a Minister. The public was supposed to be protected from this knowledge, and I'm technically committing treason by sharing it. But if it's the Ministry's fault that Luiza was taken, then you deserve to know.

"The Volkari race never went extinct. The Ministry has known about them all this time, and the lie was fabricated a hundred years ago, when my grandfather was a Minister. I discovered it after my appointment to the role."

Ren was glad to have been leaning against the door frame. Otherwise, his knees might have buckled. He wasn't ignorant to the fact that the Ministry excluded the public from sensitive information, but to blatantly lie about something so significant . . . It was unsettling.

"Why would you do this?" Nika stole the words right from his mouth.

"Me personally, or the Ministry?"

"Both."

"I did it because that's what was expected of me. It's part of the job. But I take no pleasure in it. As for the rest of the Ministry, especially the purists, it was to make sure the wolves couldn't stir up trouble."

And look how that turned out, Ren thought.

"Like Inferni, the Volkari race has never been regarded as civilized in the eyes of the Ministry. They're more monster than man, and that's why they were annexed from the community."

"So tonight's attack was revenge for being banished?" Nika asked.

"Not exactly. After the wolves had been exiled, they tried to incite dissent against the Ministry, and the Serafi race as a whole. And it didn't take long for Nefili to start agreeing with them."

It was an age-long struggle in the Daemonstri world. For centuries, Serafi had lorded over the other races. They were smarter, wealthier, and more suited for government than the rest of Daemonstri, so it seemed an obvious choice.

But that power was easy to abuse, and the scepter of tyranny often nudged keepers of the Vigil in its desired direction. It was no surprise that dissent had sprouted so easily among Nefili.

"The Ministry feared that a rebellion would occur," Markos continued, "and in order to stop it, they cursed the Volkari of North America."

"Cursed? With magic?"

"Yes."

It was known to all that magic used to be a central part of Daemonstri life. The Serafi race had once mastered spell-casting and other witching practices. In the modern era, however, Serafi no longer manifested such gifts. Magic had essentially grown obsolete.

"But magic hasn't existed for—" Nika scoffed. "Let me guess, the Ministry lied about magic, too."

"More like heavily exaggerated. Magic has been censored by the government because it's dangerous and unpredictable. And as a result, it has begun to fade over time. The less it's used, the more it dies out.

"But the censorship of magic is a different conspiracy. The Ministry promised to remove the curse if the Volkari signed a treaty that stated they would never incite rebellion again. So they signed the treaty, but the curse wasn't removed as promised, and so the wolves have suffered from the affliction for the past one hundred years."

"What sort of affliction is it?" Nika asked.

"Volkari can only shift into wolves on the night of a full moon, and only when the moon is at its apex. If they shift outside of that timeframe, they'll turn into wolves forever, and lose every last shred of humanity. Some Volkari stopped manifesting the ability altogether, and those who are able to shift often die during their first transformations because the curse makes it difficult on their bodies."

Nika swore, and Ren silently echoed the sentiment.

"I still don't understand how it relates to what happened last night."

"Ten years ago, the alpha of the North American Volkari came to the Ministry in secret. He tried to negotiate, asking us to lift their curse. But the purists—mainly Prime Minister Rostova—wouldn't even consider it. They hate Volkari just as much as they hate Inferni.

"Personally, I sympathized with them, but I couldn't convince enough of the others to help. The alpha came to us again and again, until one year ago, when his pleas turned into threats. He declared that we would regret refusing him, and that violence would be brought to the community."

"So killing Miles," Nika said, her words tremulous, "kidnapping Lu . . . It was all retaliation. For the curse. For the Prime Minister's refusal to help." A pause. "But why target the school? Why steal the journal? Why kidnap Lu?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe it's just a scare tactic to get the Ministry to cooperate."

"The Volkari are beyond scare tactics, Nika. This attack was the first move in a dangerous game, and now we have no choice but to play."

Movement on the crime scene snagged Ren's attention, and he found Headmaster Kovachev approaching the cabin.

Ren stepped aside as the headmaster opened the door and said, "Sorry to interrupt. Minister Mirza has arrived. He's requesting a meeting immediately."

Kovachev departed, and Markos said something to Nika in a low tone before they exited. Ren watched the girl limp down the porch steps, nimble as a bird. He almost followed, ready to guide the Minister to the main campus, but Markos tugged him back.

"Romanovich," he said, "I need a favor. And you might not like what it's about."

"It's not my job to like things, sir."

Markos gave a small, almost woeful, smile. "Ever the obedient keeper."

Ren chose to disregard his slightly mocking tone and said, "What's the favor?"

"Be a keeper. For my daughter."

He might have raised his brows in surprise, but his keeper's mask was drawn, preventing all manifestations of emotion. He didn't despise the order, and he didn't challenge it, either. It was just an odd thing to ask.

Nefili didn't have keepers. Ever. Not six centuries ago, when the Vigil was first founded, and not today. But Ren understood that Markos wished for his daughter's safety. He supposed that was reason enough.

He just had one question: "For how long?"

"Until Luiza is found, or until I say so. Whichever comes first."

Ren nodded.

"Oh, and don't make it seem like you're guarding her. She won't like it."

"It's not her job to like things either."

A breathy laugh. "Tell her that. I dare you."

"Do you want me to stay at the school, then?"

"No, the Ministry wants to interview the survivors, so Nika will come to headquarters with us once the funeral is over."

Markos's gaze fell to that blood stain on the ground. "An innocent child dead. Another one snatched away. It seems like things can't get worse, but I have a feeling they will. So I'm counting on you to keep Nika safe."

"I will," Ren said, his voice rougher than intended. "I promise."

The Minister followed Kovachev into the crowd, and with a sweeping gaze, Ren searched for Nika. The sun emerged through spaces between the trees, sending daggers of light into his eyes. But he found her a short distance from the crime scene, gazing into the ominous woods—almost as if she could command her friend to reappear.