Ethan bristled. The idea was insulting. How could a homeless girl know more than world-class doctors?
But Lucas reached out, found her hand, and guided it to his face. Lily’s fingers were cold and dirty as she touched his cheeks. Calmly—too calmly—she slid a fingernail beneath his eyelid.
“Get your hands off him!” Ethan shouted.
He was too late.
With a swift motion, Lily pulled something from Lucas’s eye.
It wasn’t a tear. It wasn’t dirt.
It was alive.
Dark, glossy, writhing in her palm.
Ethan felt the blood drain from his face.
Lucas couldn’t see it, but he felt something release inside his head, as if a pressure he’d carried since childhood had suddenly vanished.
“Security! Grab her!” Ethan yelled.
Lily opened her hand. The tiny creature let out a sharp, almost inaudible squeal and leapt—not toward Ethan, but onto the marble floor.
“Don’t crush it,” Lily warned. “If you do, it’ll burst.”
The guards froze as the creature skittered toward the shadow beneath the piano.
“What is that thing?” Ethan whispered.
“A Nocturne,” Lily said. “They live where light has been forced away.”
Lucas spoke again, his voice strained but clear. “There’s another one. My other eye burns.”