Lucian materialized from the shadows like he'd been carved from them, silent and brooding, the scars on his face stark in the moonlight filtering through the windows.
Raphael was the last, standing slightly apart from the others, violet eyes haunted, hands clasped in front of him as if in prayer—or as if he didn't trust what he might do with them otherwise.
Heena looked at each of them in turn, then shook her head slowly.
"An ambush," she said. "How wonderfully dramatic. Did you rehearse this, or was it spontaneous? Because if it was spontaneous, I'm almost impressed by the coordination."
"This isn't a joke," Kieran snapped, taking a step forward.
Heena's expression didn't change. "Then by all means, enlighten me. What emergency requires all five of you to corner your Empress in a hallway in the middle of the night?"
"What are you 'doing'?" Kieran demanded.
