Lillibet caught me just as I was dumping my tray.

  “Sinclair,” she said. “A word.”

  Her tone didn’t invite debate. I trailed her out of the dining hall, down the side corridor, and out into the cool evening air. The sky was sliding from blue to bruised purple; the first streetlights were flicking on.

  “Dean Cho has decided you’re ready to start fulfilling your community service,” Lillibet said, cutting straight to it. Her hands were in the pockets of her jacket, shoulders straight. “You’re on patrol with us tonight.”

  “Us?” I asked, even though I had a pretty good guess.

  “Me and Vasilakis,” she confirmed. “You observe. You do not engage unless I tell you to. Understood?”

  “Yeah,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Understood.”

  Theo was waiting by the gate, already in patrol clothes—dark hoodie, dark jeans, boots. His sword hung at his hip, sheathed, the hilt worn and too familiar. He gave me a quick grin, then sobered when he saw Lillibet’s expression.

  We headed out into the neighborhood. The city at almost?dark felt different when you were looking for monsters instead of late night snacks. Sodium?yellow streetlights buzzed. A bus sighed past. Somewhere, a siren wailed and then dopplered away. My nerves hummed.

  After a few blocks of nothing, we saw it.

  The slime thing.

  It was oozing out of a side alley onto the street, cone?head first, tendrils pushing it along. Six feet of neon green gelatin with serrated mandibles. The very first impossible thing I’d ever seen.

  My throat went dry. “Do we—” My voice came out thin. I swallowed. “Are we supposed to kill it?”

  Lillibet didn’t even reach for her sword.

  “No,” she said. “It’s harmless. There is no need.”

  “Harmless?” I repeated, eyeing the teeth.

  “It eats carrion and garbage,” she said. “It is unpleasant. Not dangerous.”

  The big worm slid across the asphalt, leaving a glistening trail, and disappeared down the storm drain grate like an overly aggressive booger.

  Unpleasant. Right.

  Lillibet lifted her head suddenly, eyes going distant. She raised one hand, fingertips pressing lightly against the small device tucked in her ear.

  “Yes?” she said. Pause. “Understood.”

  Her gaze snapped back to us. “Greenway Frill spotted near a playground,” she said. “Move.”

  We moved.

  They set a hard pace, fast enough that my lungs should’ve been burning. Bright Life did its thing; my legs kept up even as my brain grumbled. We cut through side streets, past rowhouses and corner stores, the smell of fried food and wet pavement chasing us.

  The playground came into view—empty now, swings hanging still, the little plastic slide glowing faintly under a streetlight. Under the jungle gym, in the shadow just inside the fence, something low and sleek shifted.

  Greenway Frill.

  Even in the dim, the frill’s colors pulsed—poison orange, electric blue, sickly yellow. It hissed, the sound like someone shaking a rain stick full of razor blades.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “Get its attention,” Lillibet said, low. “Herd it into the alley.”

  Theo didn’t even nod; he just peeled off to the left, moving at an easy jog that looked casual but definitely wasn’t. I went right, heart thumping, trying to look like a random girl with a backpack and not bait.

  Lillibet stayed where she was, at the mouth of the alley that ran alongside the playground fence, body relaxed but coiled. Her hand hovered near her sword hilt.

  Theo picked up a loose piece of asphalt and lobbed it. It bounced off the Frill’s shoulder. The creature’s head snapped toward him, frill flaring out in a sudden, gaudy halo.

  “Hey, ugly,” he called, backing up a step. “Come on.”

  I edged closer to the fence, ready to bolt if it changed its mind.

  It didn’t. It lunged for Theo.

  He retreated at an angle, leading it on. It followed, frill rattling, claws scraping on concrete. When it hit the spot Lillibet wanted, she barked, “Now.”

  Theo pivoted and sprinted straight past the alley mouth, close enough to brush Lillibet’s shoulder. The Frill, locked on, barreled after him—

  —and Lillibet stepped in, a precise, sideways move that put her between the thing and open street. It skidded, momentum carrying it into the narrow space between dumpsters.

  “Herding complete,” Theo puffed, circling back in.

  They drew weapons in near?unison. Lillibet’s green blade came free with a soft hiss. Theo’s black one—matte, hungry—cleared its sheath.

  Last time I’d seen them fight a Frill, I’d been half a block away, panicking behind a parked car. Alley mouth, flashes of movement, teeth and color.

  This time, I saw everything.

  Lillibet was the same: calm, controlled, movements like a deadly ballet.

  Theo was…not.

  In Saturday Club, he was focused, but in a way that always had a layer of fun over it. Jokes between drills, flirty asides, cocky grins when he landed a clean hit. His eyes sparkled; his whole vibe said this is hard, but also a game.

  This wasn’t that Theo.

  This Theo’s mouth was a thin, grim line. His eyes were sharp and dark and somewhere far away. The easy tilt in his shoulders was gone; every muscle looked wired tight. Even the way he held the sword was different—no flourish, just a straight, brutal line from his hand to the blade.

  He scared me.

  “Stay back,” Lillibet said to me, tone not leaving room for argument. I plastered myself against the alley wall, heart hammering, and watched.

  They went in together.

  Lillibet feinted left; Theo cut right. The Frill spun, collar flaring, claws slashing. Theo darted in under the halo and sliced along its side. Acidic goo hissed where his blade bit; the smell of hot pennies and rot hit me like a slap.

  He didn’t even flinch at the spray.

  The Frill lunged, jaws snapping where his arm had been a fraction of a second before. He threw himself sideways, shoulder slamming into a dumpster with a hollow bang, then used the rebound to push off and come in again, harder.

  “Vasilakis,” Lillibet snapped once. Warning? Annoyance? Both?

  He ignored her.

  He was reckless. I could see, now, why he’d taken so many hits in the alley I’d watched from far away. He threw himself at the monster, taking chances that made my stomach twist. Ducking in just a hair too late, staying in range a breath too long.

  When one of its claws finally connected, raking across his forearm, he grunted, but didn’t back off. Blood welled, bright even in the low light, dripping down to his fist.

  He used the moment.

  As the Frill overextended, following through on the slash that should have driven him back, he stepped in closer, inside the arc of its foreleg, and drove his blade up under the frill into the soft joint of its neck.

  It screamed—metallic and awful—and reared. Lillibet was already there, green blade carving in a clean line across its hamstrings. The back legs went out. It crashed down, frill spasming.

  Theo didn’t wait. He yanked his sword free and drove it down again, this time straight into the base of the skull, with a force that jolted up his arm.

  The Frill shuddered, colors in its halo stuttering like a dying neon sign. Then it went limp.

  For a second, no one moved.

  Theo stood over it, chest heaving, sword still buried to the hilt. There was a wild gleam in his eyes, something feral and bright that I’d never seen in him before.

  He wrenched the blade free, goo dripping. His injured arm shook once, then went still as he clenched his jaw against it.

  Lillibet straightened, breathing only a little faster than usual. She flicked monster muck off her blade in a neat, practiced motion and finally glanced my way, as if checking to see whether I’d stayed put.

  I had.

  My legs felt like they’d forgotten how to be legs. My heart was still trying to claw its way out of my throat.

  Practice?Theo laughed and flirted and traded disarms with jokes.

  Patrol?Theo threw himself at things that could kill him and smiled after.