The night air felt wet and heavy, like another snowstorm was imminent. Lowering clouds filled the sullen sky. There wasn’t a star in sight, only an indirect illumination cast by the hidden moon.

Julian asked, “What kind of wager are you going to offer Malphas?”

I don’t know. He hadn’t had a chance to think that far ahead. All I know is he won’t be able to resist a gamble.

The Vampyre laughed. “Cutting it a little close to the bone, aren’t you? Well, something had better occur to you quick.”

Don’t worry, he said. I’ve got this. Just be ready to grab him when he solidifies, and we’ll be good to go.

As they flew in low to the approach to Hart Island, Julian directed them to the appropriate section of shoreline. “There’s thirty Peacekeeper troops hidden in those nearby buildings, mostly war mages and medics. Soren and Khalil brought them in, so there aren’t any scents or foot tracks in the outlying areas. For the last half hour, they’ve been layering deflection spells over the group, along with cloaking spells.”

A disembodied, familiar Djinn presence rose up to meet them. It was Khalil. The Djinn informed them, “They’re hidden well enough. If I can sense nothing, neither will Malphas.”

Graydon’s skin began to prickle as he studied the narrow, uneven beach. Nearby, a tall, crumbling chimney stack jutted into the sky.

As he circled the area, the view aligned, until he could look up at the length of the chimney stack as it towered over the land like a behemoth.

Constantine and Rune circled with him, the three gryphons wheeling like gigantic birds of prey.

Julian slapped his shoulder, splintering his preoccupation. “Where do you want me?”

You don’t need to breathe, he said. And the cold won’t bother you. The best place for you to hide is under water, at the shoreline. The water will cover your scent.

“Agreed,” said Julian. “The water it is.”

“We can’t land here,” Carling shouted to them, “or we’ll leave too many footprints in the snow. We need to take cover in the nearby buildings. When Julian makes his move, we’ll be out here as fast as we can. Julian, make your drop. I’ll cover you with cloaking spells.”

On my count, said Graydon. He swung around, descended further and spread his wings so that he coasted over the water as he approached the shore. One, two – drop.

Rolling off his back, Julian hit the water with a splash. A moment later, Graydon’s paws touched down on the cold, rocky ground. He barely noticed when Rune dove, spun and dove again, while Carling layered cloaking spells over the area where Julian had disappeared.

Shapeshifting, Graydon stared around him.

Overhead, the clouds broke apart. As the moonlight grew sharper, he saw white snow covering black rocks on the beach. Whorls of ice banded the rocks where the uneasy ocean rocked and lapped.

White, and black, near a dark, tempestuous shore.

He had never been to this place before, and yet he recognized every detail of it.

See you soon, buddy, Constantine said in his head.

The two other gryphons, along with Carling, winged toward the buildings and disappeared.

Khalil said, “This is where I leave you. Good hunting.”

The Djinn’s presence arced away.

Graydon’s heart began a slow, hard pounding, like the deep clanging of a bell. He breathed deeply and evenly to manage the dump of adrenaline plunging through his veins.

Telepathically, he reached out to Julian. You close enough to hear me?

Yes, said the Vampyre. I’m a few yards away, just beyond the ice.

Okay, he said.

Okay.

Balancing on slippery, broken rocks, he moved away from the shoreline until he reached the end of the narrow beach, where he turned, putting the chimney stack behind him and facing the ocean.

All his planning fell away. All the talk, the preparations. He had lived the very best of his life in a single moment. The only thing that remained was the sound of his breath as he released it. It vaporized into the endless winter’s night.

Injecting Power into his voice, he called out, “Malphas.”

The pariah took his time answering the summons.

As Graydon sensed Malphas’s leisurely approach, he realized that for all of their caution and extreme effort in laying the trap, the Djinn wasn’t acting like he was suspicious.

He was acting contemptuous.

Angling his jaw out, Graydon crossed his arms as he waited.

The Djinn poured onto the scene without materializing. Like an oil slick, his presence smeared the fresh night air.

“I get no Christmas cards, you don’t write.” Malphas circled around Graydon. “Now, after all this time, you decide to pick up the phone. One wonders why one even bothers to respond.”

Hatred clogged his throat. Curling his lip, he growled, “And yet, I see one does.”

“Curiosity does sometimes get the better of me.” Like a devil riding his shoulder, Malphas sighed in Graydon’s ear. “And oh look at what a dismal setting. You couldn’t even invite me to a nice restaurant.”

The Djinn was toying with him, like a cat with a mouse.

He refused to flinch, and said between his teeth, “I would rather be caught dead than be seen in public with you.”

Truth.

If he stuck to the truth, he couldn’t go too far wrong.

Malphas laughed. “My feelings, they are wounded. If I had a heart, it would be broken. What do you want, gryphon?”

“I want to change our agreement.”

Come on, asshole. Show your face.

“No, I don’t think I want to do that. I’m perfectly content with our bargain as it is.” As leisurely as he had arrived, the Djinn’s presence began to fade.