Liora's library had never, in Jasmine's experience, looked quite so thoroughly ransacked as it did the night Caleb and Corin returned with their reports — scrolls and ancient bound volumes spread across every available surface, the vampire queen herself moving between them with a focused intensity that bordered on desperation. Jasmine had rarely seen her so visibly rattled, and the sight alone told her more about the seriousness of the situation than any of the reports had managed.

"Drained rather than killed," she murmured, cross-referencing three separate texts at once. "Shape that unfolds from shadow. Eyes that swallow moonlight rather than reflect it. I know this description. I have read...