They were left standing a few feet from the portal in the Dark Man's basement, alone in silent darkness. Abram collapsed. Started vomiting, just like people always did when they shifted dimensions.

But how the hell had they just done that?

James dropped to his knees, struggling to hold onto Benjamin's weight in Hell's increased gravity. Elise sank with them. Clutched at Benjamin's hand.

"How did you do that, Ben?" she asked. He didn't reply. She smoothed a hand over his forehead. "Ben?"

He was unconscious again.

A cracking sound drew Elise's attention to the archway. The image of New Eden wavered, flickered. Then, with a mighty groan, the stone around the edges cracked. The portal vanished. The hallway went dark.

The only door Elise knew could reach New Eden was gone.

Twenty.

"FUCK," ELISE GROWLED, jerking away from James's touch. "That hurts."

"Sorry. Almost done." He pulled and twisted. The fragment of the stone spear wrenched out of her side with a slick, meaty sound. She groaned, eyes shut, fingernails digging into her kneecaps. James set it on the desk next to Elise's thigh.

Lincoln Marshall immediately picked up the bloody piece of stone. "What is this?"

"Don't know what it's called. It's ethereal." Elise grimaced as she probed the edges of her wound. It seeped amber blood.

"Looks like it messed you up pretty good," Lincoln said.

She grunted again. "Nothing I can't heal. Speaking of healing..."

He didn't even let her finish. "I want to do it," he said firmly. "I spent the time you were gone praying for wisdom, and I haven't changed my mind. I want James to cure me."

Praying? James covered his mouth with his hand and concealed his laugh by coughing. Elise caught his eye. She wasn't smiling-she didn't find it remotely funny-but he could feel her agreement through the bond. It was nice to have reached a consensus on something.

"Fine," Elise said. She brushed her hand over James's knuckles, then jerked her hand back, as if only realizing that she had touched him after the fact. He was sitting in her desk chair, at eye level with her wounded side. He focused on her knees and tried not to smile. "How soon can you attempt to heal him, James?"

Lincoln didn't have much time. A few days before he went comatose again, if he was lucky. A few more days after that before the anathema powder sucked his life away. James would have to write a spell as quickly as possible.

"Two days," he decided. "In the meantime, I have to ask that you remain prone as much as possible and remain well-nourished, Lincoln. Feed frequently." He chose his words carefully. He didn't exactly want to encourage the man to eat like a megaira did, but Lincoln wouldn't have a lot of alternatives if he hoped to survive.

"Will do," Lincoln said. "Except Gerard's asked me to go to a meeting this afternoon. Says he wants my help getting ready for a war. Any reason why he thinks we're going to war?"

Elise's lips pinched into a frown. "Go to the meeting. Tell Gerard I'll have a decision soon."

Lincoln tugged her off the desk, drawing her into a corner of her office-away from James. He spoke in a low voice, quiet enough that James shouldn't have been able to hear him, except that James could listen through Elise's ears.

"What happened down there? Nobody's talking." Lincoln sounded like he was trying to be so damn private. As though it was his right to speak to Elise like that.

She remained stiff, her hands limp in his. Her side was throbbing. "That's because nobody knows what happened yet. I have to make a decision, Lincoln. You'll be one of the first to know the outcome. For now, leave me the fuck alone."

Lincoln's grimace flashed through James's mind, as seen through his kopis's eyes. But he nodded and left.

Elise didn't return to the desk to let James bandage her. She slipped into her bedroom.

The precognitive, Benjamin Flynn, was lying in her bed with the silky black sheets pulled up to his chin. Elise had insisted on having him put in her quarters where she could watch him. The cells where Rylie and Abel had been kept weren't good enough. It had to be her room, and Elise guarding him.

Dwarfed by the black iron bed, Benjamin looked young-no more than thirteen or fourteen years old, even though Elise had said that she thought he had to be an adult by now.

"Who is he?" James asked, hovering behind her as she sat on the side of the mattress.

"He's a prophet."

"I know that part." James had once possessed a book of Benjamin Flynn's prophecies, and he knew how chillingly accurate the boy's precognition and retrocognition was. "Who is he to you? Why is he the one you insisted on dragging back from New Eden, of all the victims?"

"Because," she said, sinking on to the mattress beside Benjamin, "he knows everything about me. Everything. When he wakes up, he'll be able to answer any question."

She stroked a curl out of Benjamin's face. The look she gave him was impossible to interpret, even with the emotional feedback through the bond. There was definitely a mixture of worry and fondness. But even Elise didn't seem to understand her feelings.

"Is he going to die?" she asked James.

"I have no way to be sure."

"Alert me through the bond if he wakes up. And work on finding a way to block his premonitions while you're at it, because it's the only way we'll be able to keep him sane once he's conscious."

First she wanted a way to heal Lincoln. Now she wanted a way to heal Benjamin. It should have irritated James to have her make such demands as if his time and knowledge were infinite, but it didn't. If anything, he found it exhilarating.

"I'll see what I can do." He hesitated. "Elise...about what we were discussing earlier..." He couldn't bring himself to say "feeding" in regards to their relationship. "I spoke more harshly than I intended. There must be some kind of compromise. Something we can both tolerate." She pressed a hand to her forehead. He could feel her growing headache through the bond. "I just don't want you to give up yet."

"James," she sighed.

"What?"

"Is that what you're worrying about right now? Of all the things?" All her other worries cascaded between them: New Eden, approaching war, Lincoln's imminent death, the boy in the bed.

"Elise, there will always be something else. There always has been." He traced the backs of his knuckles down her side, gently brushing the edge of her wound. "None of it matters nearly as much to me."

She caught his hand. Pressed it against her side, where her shirt was sticky with blood. She was watching his face for a reaction. "I don't have the time or desire to negotiate with you." The words were harsh, but her voice was soft. "I don't think there's a compromise. If you decide you want to be with me, you know what you have to agree to."

"We don't have to hurt each other," James whispered.

"There are worse things than pain." She pulled a new jacket on over her bloodied shirt and zipped it up tight. "Watch Benjamin for me."

"Where are you going?"

"I'm taking Ace for a walk."

"But you're still injured."

"I'll take care of it. You've got bigger problems to fix." She took a last, lingering look at Benjamin, then vanished into smoke.

James would never get used to that. He wished she wouldn't do it where he could see. It was a constant reminder that Elise had changed in a very permanent way that even he couldn't heal.

He spent the next several minutes spinning spells, weaving them together, and allowing his magic to settle into Benjamin.

The physical repairs were relatively minor. The boy was low on blood. Bolstering its production was a complicated spell, but fortunately, James already had it under his left glove. The minor head trauma was much easier. But once he fixed those things, he didn't know what else to do. Benjamin Flynn was still unconscious.

James grabbed a notebook from Elise's desk and started drawing. He'd need a new spell to block premonitions. Something no witch had ever done before, as far as he knew.

"James," Benjamin croaked.

He almost dropped the notebook. James ripped his reading glasses off to look at the boy, whose eyes were just barely open. "How do you know my name?" James asked, before realizing what a stupid question that was.

When he wakes up, he'll be able to answer any question.

Elise would want to know. She would phase to them instantly so that she could question him.

But surely she wouldn't allow James to ask a question first.

"Before you ask," Benjamin said, his voice barely any louder than a whisper, "the Cubbies will never win the World Series. They always want to know that. It's not happening."

James hardly cared for baseball. Maybe Benjamin wasn't that prescient after all, if he didn't realize that. "You're in the Palace of Dis, Benjamin," James said, even though he hadn't asked. "Elise Kavanagh rescued you from New Eden. You're safe here."

"I know," Benjamin said.

"Yes, I imagine you do."

His head lolled on the pillow, eyes sliding shut again. Benjamin was slipping quickly. The boy was going to be gone soon, and James didn't know when he'd be able to revive him.

If he wanted to ask a question, he needed to do it now.

The problem was that James had so many questions for him. Not just questions about the future, but the past. How and when Benjamin had been taken to New Eden. What the angels were doing with him. How he could have possibly been communicating with Elise, even as he was lost in prophecy in another world.

But none of those questions made it past James's lips.

"Am I somehow a reincarnation of Adam?" he asked. Benjamin struggled to focus on him, eyelids fluttering. "I've been having dreams of his memories. The magic of Shamain recognized me as though I were an old friend. And Elise called me..." He swallowed hard. "She called me Adam."

"You were possessed by God for a few minutes. The most powerful entity in the universe, at the time. It leaves a mark. But no. You're not Adam. Adam is dead, and has always been dead."

Relief mingled with confusion. "How has he always been dead?"

"He was severed from the universe," Benjamin said. "His thread was worn out, and now it's gone. Permanently. He won't be back." His eyes fell closed. "You have to tell Elise something. Please. It's important. She needs to know this." He was so quiet now that James could barely hear him.

James leaned in close. "What? What do I need to tell her?"

"Marion's in New Eden," Benjamin whispered.

The name meant nothing to him. James frowned. "Who's Marion?"

The precognitive didn't reply. He was gone.

Rylie had been through so many homecomings now that she could sense people approaching the fissure. The wind became hotter, the smoke thicker. It was like the entire world held its breath in anticipation of people crossing between dimensions.

She was waiting in the wreckage of Poppy's Diner when she felt it coming. Rylie used to like having lunch there, before the Breaking, before Elise entered her life. It was dark and filled with ash now, but it still relaxed her to curl up in one of the red leather booths with her diary. But when she smelled the shifting atmosphere, she picked up her journal, tucked it under her arm, and headed outside.

Abel had sensed the change, too. He was already waiting by the statue of Bain Marshall. She clasped his hand in hers tightly, trying to control her trembling.

They didn't have to wait for very long. The air rippled, and a fresh plume of smoke billowed out of the fissure.

There was a shape moving inside.

Rylie sniffed the air. She could tell even before the ash settled that it was Elise-her scent was unmistakable, especially since she had brought Ace with her. But there was no preparing for how haggard Elise looked. She didn't walk with any of her usual confidence. She was caked in amber blood and limping. Rylie's breath caught in her throat. That could only mean bad news.

Then Elise stepped aside, and a man emerged from the smoke behind her.

Abram.

Rylie burst into tears and flung her arms around him, hugging her son tightly. "Oh, thank God."

He hugged her back just as hard. It was a lot like being engulfed in a bear's embrace. Even though he was bigger than Seth had ever been, it reminded Rylie very much of hugging him, too. There was just something about Abram that felt warm in that same way. It melted her heart and made her soul fill with joy.

But the joy was short-lived. Abram's scent told an overwhelming story-a tale of worlds Rylie had never seen, and places far more dangerous than Dis. He smelled like sulfur and leather. He also smelled like buttered popcorn, apples, and freshly-mowed grass. He was drenched in the odors of Heaven and Hell. Rylie could almost picture New Eden just from inhaling his scent.

"Thank you, Elise," Rylie said, trying to wipe her cheeks dry.

Elise looked stiff. Uncomfortable. Ace was leaning hard against her calf, sensing her mood. "Don't thank me."

Rylie looked around her son's arm. Elise and Abram had been unaccompanied on their journey up the bridge.

"Shit," Abel said. He'd already reached the same conclusion that Rylie had.

"But...the Scions," she said. "The pack."

Abram's expression said it all.

The pack wasn't coming home.

It was the night of a full moon, and Rylie was lonely. She wandered the streets of the sanctuary feeling like her chest had been packed with shards of glass. She hadn't expected to ever return to this place after Levi ousted her, and now that she had, she almost wished that Levi was still there.

There were only three werewolves in a sanctuary built for fifty, and it felt hollow.

Elise lingered underneath the trees with Ace, separate from Rylie, Abel, and Summer as they prepared to become wolves. None of them needed to shift, but Abel had never been as good at skipping moons as Rylie, and it would be a deeply unpleasant night for him if he clung to his human skin.

"You ready to go?" Abel asked, shedding his shirt.