Kit’s pupils constricted as his mind cast the mute colors of the dark. On his first solo venture, he had cowered behind a bright flashlight, its beam too bold, nearly getting him arrested. He pitied that younger version of himself, trembling at the slightest things.

Now, he was unafraid of what toiled in the shadows of this wooden derelict. At the bottom of the stairs, he looked up to the second floor, where he knew she would be. The staircase had caved, and he felt the draft of a cold well plummeting through the buckled portal. “Damnit,” Kit muttered, thinning his lips, imagining Father Emerus’s scold for the curse.

The railing dangled, groaned, and fell. Kit covered his nose to suppress a sneeze and struck his forehead with the heel of his hand. The crash plunged the house into eerie silence as he eyed the jagged hole, quickly dismissing the idea of jumping. “Careless,” he hissed.

The air’s stillness broke with the creak and crunch of his boots and scuffling, vying vermin. A lone moonbeam pierced the gloom through a large window, lighting a steel lattice clinging to the exterior wall. He slipped out the back door, relieved to breathe fresh air.

Ivy clung weakly to the wrought iron bars, the only shade-seeking plant in the yard ravaged by daily sun. He climbed easily but paused when the fasteners groaned. His breath caught, and he shifted his weight before continuing his ascent with greater caution.

A previous intruder had shattered the second-floor window. Sharp edges grazed his skin as he maneuvered across the broken pane. He landed and straightened. The room was empty, its surfaces layered with dust except for a single immaculate mirror on the wall.

Compelled, he wiped his gloved hand across it, brushing away the dust he had stirred onto its flawless sheen. Moonlight caught Kit’s eyes, drawing him closer. His rough complexion and dishwater-blonde hair streaked with silver in the pale light. His shape was different, something hair-raised feral.