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expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the uncontained, rioting laughter that erupted.

“What?!” Her cheeks flushed crimson as he wiped a tear and caught his breath.

“You really are new to this thing, Valentina.” His accent caressed the words, smoothing the air like he was speaking to a child.

“What’s so funny about elves?” she demanded.

He was about to answer, but instead turned his attention to loose papers scattered across the desk. The gift box had disappeared, thankfully. One less thing for her to explain.

Vladimir lifted his gaze to examine the painting between the candles then turned back to Val. “Álfheimr hasn’t existed since the Accords. The dragons rule the Northern Kingdom from the country of Iyenir, located across most of Earth Proper’s Europe. The dark elves are deep underground, so your best bet is the Light ones in the Enchanted Forest.” He gave her a coy smirk. “The actual name is too many syllables to try pronouncing.”

Val nodded. No images swam up from the Mark. But in its defense, she was exhausted. The magic in the room may have dulled those faculties as well.

“Tell me how to get there.”

He shook his head. “Ágvass.”

“Essence?” she repeated in English.

“Magic has rules, ma cherie.” He stepped from the desk and sat in the armchair across from her. “The aether builds reality. Magic is just manipulating the aether to affect reality. If you’re Ágvass—human, angel, spirit, what have you—your bloodline is closer to the essence that builds the world.” He seemed to note the strain in Val’s face as she fought to wrap her mind around the words. “They can do spells,” he added with a sigh.

Val evened her gaze, but if he was lying, she couldn’t tell. “Then what does that make us?” she asked flatly.

He flicked his wrist and the shadows from the room darted to his body. The room was left in an eerie light from the cracked door. The darkness they’d been in moments before now sat in his palm as a rippling sphere. The vampire made a tsk sound and shook his head. “We don’t channel magic; we are magic. The aether has already given itself. Albeit, as a vampire, I have more flexibility than say, you or a lycan. But you’re still not going to catch me hurling winds or summoning transmutation spells.”

He tossed up the ball and it exploded. The shadows ran to corners, walls, and cracks until the room was blanketed in darkness again. The door closed and the candles went out. She could still see, obviously, but the shadows sat uncomfortably on her chest. Perhaps because she knew they weren’t just contouring from the light, but rather extensions of the creature sitting across.

“But sure,” he said after a pause. The tips of his fangs flashed with a grin. “Let’s go see elves.”

Val’s pupils dilated wider. “But you just—”

“I said,” he began, rising from the chair. “That you’re not able to go spellcasting your way through realms. I can still take you.”

Val chewed over the words. “I’m not coming back.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I mean it!” She pushed him back, summoning as fierce of a glare as she could. “Even if the elves can’t help me, I’ll stick things out on my own. I want a promise that you, or Zadkiel, or Michael, or whoever won’t come after me.”

Vladimir chuckled before tucking his hands in his pockets. “And what makes you think I have that kind of weight?”

“You’re the first of the Sins, incredibly powerful, and king over a fourth of the Annwn,” she listed. “I’m sure you could manage something.”

This sparked another laugh, but this one was lighter. “Deal.” He extended a hand. Val eyed it warily, watching as dark tattoos shifted and spun along his wrist against the dark.

“But I promise you.” He took her hand in his. “You’ll come back willingly.”

Val shook once then threw his hand back. “I doubt that.”

“We’ll see,” Vladimir sang, vanishing then reappearing beside her. “Let’s go, Ebenezer. I will be your ghost of Christmas past.”

Part IV: Deal Brokers and Graveyards

“You can refuse, and God can allow it, but his Will will still be done— with or without you.”

Chapter 22

“What?”

Ignoring Val, Vladimir waved his hand across the ground. A whirlpool of black formed in front of them. Shadows crashed together, steadily stretching upward until a towering, elegant doorway stood before them.

Before Val knew what was happening, Vladimir pushed her through and she was free falling in darkness. When she opened her eyes, she was on her hands and knees with soft grass between her fingertips. A massive stone arch loomed above her. Centuries old, if not older, it was carved in a manner resembling an ancient temple.

Fenestram

Energy swirled within the doorway in purples, blues, and whites. Yet, each of the colors remained transparent. The blue sky was clearly visible behind the arch. Val stood to get a closer look, but quickly found herself at a sharp ledge. The ground beneath was only a narrow island of rooted earth. Hundreds of identical islands, housing similar archways, floated as far out as the eye could see. A spread of levitating stones around each island could probably be used to hop the chain, but Val was more than certain that an attempt would lead to an endless fall—or certain death.

“Beautiful, right?”

Val turned around to face Vladimir. “Where are we?”

“The Avenues of the Dead. Natural currents of the aether that cross the planet and connect realms. For those without the magic to use them independently, Fenestrams let you travel specific currents.”

Half-listening, Val turned back to face the swirling colors of the gateway. As hesitant as she was, everything about it begged her to step through. She willed her breath to steady and straightened her

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