The night had grown darker, though the clock on the wall said it was only three in the morning. A storm was forming over the river, and lightning flashed from somewhere beyond the city. The air in the French Quarter felt heavier than usual, thick with the kind of silence that comes before a storm that changes everything.
Inside the grand hall of the Voss Estate, all three supernatural factions had gathered. Vampires from House Mallory and House Devereaux sat stiffly on one side of the long table. Peter Hale and his wolves leaned against the walls, restless, half ready to fight. The witches were divided into two groups: the Cypress Circle, with Anabell at its center, and the Gallows Court, which had come only because they could not afford to ignore the fire that had been lit.
Francis stood at the head of the room. He did not sit. He never did when war was close.
"This council," he began, his voice firm, "was meant to happen two weeks from now in quiet. It will happen tonight because the Covenant is cracked, and if we keep playing house politics, it will shatter."
Mallory's captain leaned forward. "This started on your ground, Francis. The Covenant is under your family's name. That ash was your failure."
Peter's voice cut through before Francis could answer. "The ash belonged to your elder, Mallory. If you want to blame someone, look in your own graveyard."
The captain stood up halfway, but Francis raised a single hand, and the room went still. His calm weighted it. When he spoke, the silence carried his words like a blade.
"Blame does not close gates," he said. "Blame opens them faster."
Anabell stepped forward, her fingers still stained with black ink from her Vein work. "I found two ley lines that lead to another possible Gate. Door Four isn't just a symbol; it's already awake. If we keep fighting each other, we'll lose before we even know who the enemy is."
An older witch from Gallows Court hissed under her breath. "You always speak like you know everything."
"I don't," Anabell said, steady. "But I know enough to say we are not the only ones in this fight. Demons gave humans the tools. And humans are using them well."
The room broke into mutters, low growls from wolves, and whispers from witches. One vampire slammed his fist on the table. "Then we crush the humans before they spread."
Elena stepped forward. "And then what? Do you think killing a few humans will stop it? The world isn't blind anymore. One video, one stream, and it's all over. If you make war on them now, they'll bring everything they have."
Francis looked down the table at all of them. "She's right."
Zeross had been silent at the far end, leaning against a pillar. He finally spoke. "Killing marked humans is a short game. Demons never give power without keeping a way to call it back. You kill the body; the debt remains. They'll simply find new hosts. Or worse."
Peter glanced toward him. "Then what do you suggest?"
"I don't suggest," Zeross said, voice like soft steel. "I count. One Gate has opened. One is breathing. Seven remain. When they all open, it won't be your city anymore."
The storm outside cracked the sky, and the lights flickered for a moment. Everyone in the room felt the air tighten. Something in the distance was moving.
Across the city, in a quiet apartment, Noah Rivera sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. He had deleted the clip hours ago, but his screen still felt hot in his hands. What he saw at the cemetery wouldn't leave him. It wasn't a trick of light or a bad dream. Someone burned to ash right in front of him, and the ground opened like a mouth.
A soft knock came at his door. He jumped. When he opened it, Elena stood there in the hallway. She wasn't supposed to be here, but the way she looked at him, calm and sure, made the air around him feel a little less heavy.
"I thought vampires couldn't just walk into people's places," Noah said.
"They can if they're invited," she answered, tilting her head. "Are you going to let me in?"
He hesitated for a heartbeat, then stepped aside.
Inside, she walked to the window and stared out at the glowing street lights. "You've seen something you shouldn't have. That makes you a target."
"You mean those men with the knives," Noah said quietly.
Elena nodded. "They work for humans who made deals with demons. And they'll do anything to keep the world from finding out the truth."
He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not part of this."
She turned to him, her voice low but clear. "You are now."
Their eyes met, and for the first time, Noah saw what lived behind her calm face. It wasn't just danger. It was history, weight, and a kind of loneliness that he couldn't explain. And somewhere beneath all of that, something else stirred between them. Not love. Not yet. But something that could grow into it if they survived long enough.
Back at the council, the argument had turned into something sharper. House Mallory wanted war. Gallows Court wanted to cut off the Vein lines completely. Peter wanted to hunt the marked humans. Anabell wanted to map the doors before anyone made a wrong move.
Francis let them shout. He watched. He listened. And then, when the noise peaked, he raised his voice once.
"Enough."
The sound cut through the room like a blade. He stepped forward, the storm flashing behind him through the windows, throwing lines of white light across his face.
"Everyone of you has enemies," he said. "Everyone of you wants control. But if you don't stop tearing at each other long enough to face what's coming, none of you will have anything left to control. Not your houses. Not your circles. Not your packs."
For a moment, the room was quiet again.
Zeross smiled faintly, though there was no humor in it. "For once, I agree with the vampire."
Peter stepped forward. "So, what's the move?"
Francis's jaw tightened. "We find the buyer who opened the first Gate. We track who paid for Door Four. We break their chain before the next door opens. If we don't, none of us will own this war."
Anabell nodded, sliding her ink-stained hands back into her coat. "Then I'll need more time in the Veins. And someone to keep me alive while I work."
Peter lifted a hand. "Done."
House Mallory's captain crossed his arms but didn't argue. He didn't want to help Francis. But he didn't want to burn either.
The meeting ended with uneasy silence, the kind that follows a promise everyone knows will break.
Far beneath the city, where the Veins crossed under old streets, a dark hall stretched through the earth. One Gate was fully open. Another was breathing. A third pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat waiting to rise.
A voice, smooth as smoke, whispered through the tunnels. It did not belong to any human or low demon. It was older. It was waiting.
Voice: "Little pieces. All falling into place."
On the roof of the Voss Estate, Francis stepped into the cold air. The storm was almost here now. He could feel the pressure building over the city. Elena joined him a moment later, silent.
"She trusts you," Francis said quietly.
Elena didn't ask who. She already knew he meant Noah. "I didn't give him a choice," she said.
Francis shook his head slowly. "No. You gave him a door. He'll choose how to walk through it."
Down in the Quarter, a faint scream echoed in the distance. Another mark had been found. Another step in the game.
Francis clenched his jaw. "This city is not theirs to take."
Elena turned to him, rain beginning to fall against her hair. "Then we'd better make sure it remembers who built it."
Lightning split the sky.