Genevieve's POV
The bloody bundle crouched in my closet like a predator waiting to strike. Crimson-stained fabric. Charred remnants of pages. All the proof anyone would need to destroy me completely.
After Julian vanished, I found myself frozen there, weighing my limited choices. Walking downstairs with anything remotely suspicious would be suicide. Benedict already had his claws in me. His watchers were everywhere, even now.
Loyalty meant nothing when survival was at stake.
My power awakened beneath my flesh, eager and electric.
I shut my eyes and released it through my body. That familiar warmth cascaded from my center outward, enveloping the evidence. The bundle wavered before shrinking into something harmless. An ordinary leather purse that could belong to any woman. Something that might hold nothing deadlier than loose change and a mirror.
Nearly flawless. Close enough.
