ABUJA THE FEDERAL CAPITAL TERRITORY
The SUV moved through Abuja's traffic like a funeral procession—slow, deliberate, respectful. The morning sun glinted off the windshield, and the air conditioning hummed a low, mournful note.
Praise sat in the back seat, her amber eyes fixed on the window, watching the city pass by in shades of grey and gold. She wasn't crying. She hadn't cried since the courtyard. But something behind her eyes was different now. Quieter. Like a room after the music stops.
Jonathan sat beside her, his bruised ribs hidden under a pressed black shirt, his jaw tight. He wasn't looking out the window. He was looking at his hands.
The driver—Ayo, a slim man in a plain black suit with a face that seemed designed to be forgotten—kept his eyes on the road.
"ETA twenty minutes," he said.
Praise nodded.
Jonathan pulled out his phone and dialed.
Jaron answered on the second ring.
"Jonathan."
"We're almost there."
"How is she?"
Jonathan glanced at Praise. She didn't look back.
"Quiet," he said.
"That's not good."
"I know."
A pause.
"The parents?" Jaron asked.
"They're expecting us."
"Be gentle."
"I'll do my best."
"Jonathan."
"I know."
He hung up.
The SUV kept moving.
UNIBEN: FACULTY OF PHARMACY
The building was white, modern, too clean for a faculty that dealt with chemicals and compound drugs. Students streamed in and out, lab coats flapping, faces tired from sleepless nights and too many assignments.
David stood by the entrance, leaning against the wall, his sketchbook tucked under his arm. He'd changed into something casual—a plain t-shirt, dark jeans, the same Jordans from yesterday. His bruises were healing, the concealer doing its job.
He saw her before she saw him.
Jane walked out of the building, her lab coat still on, her natural plait hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. The white tips caught the sun, and her face—usually warm, usually open—was tight with concentration.
"Hey," David said, pushing off the wall.
She looked up. Her expression softened, just slightly.
"Hey."
"You look busy."
"I am busy." She stopped in front of him, close enough to touch, but didn't. "David, I can't stay long. I have a project that's going to take all night."
"All night?"
"All night." She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Pharmacy compounding. We're making topical creams. It takes hours."
"Sounds thrilling."
"It's not. But I have to do it."
She stepped forward and hugged him—brief, warm, over too soon.
"I'll call you tomorrow," she said.
"Yh.. ."
She smiled—that smile, the one that made his chest hurt—and walked away, her lab coat disappearing into the crowd of students.
David watched her go.
Then his phone buzzed.
Eloghosa: Base. Now.
David stared at the message.
Now? I just got here. I haven't even…
A pink dove materialized on his shoulder.
"Oh no," David said.
The world folded.
THE COVENANT BASE: MAIN ROOM
David landed on his feet, stumbling slightly, the dove already gone.
The base was busier than usual. Vanguards moved through the halls, some in uniform, some in casual clothes, all of them with that same alert energy that said something is happening.
Eloghosa stood in the center of the main room, fully dressed in his Vanguard uniform—the black jacket, the pink accents, the katana nowhere to be seen but definitely somewhere close. His arms were crossed, his expression unusually serious.
Ivie sat on a bench against the wall, eating a meatpie, her blue gloves resting on her knees. She looked up when David appeared, nodded once, and went back to her food.
And then there was the woman.
She was leaning against the far wall, one leg bent, her foot flat against the concrete. She was tall—5'10", same as David—with an athletic build that suggested she could move fast and hit hard. Her skin was light brown, her features sharp, pretty in a way that seemed almost accidental.
Her hair was blonde. Braided. Long, thick braids that fell past her shoulders and caught the light like spun gold.
She wore the Vanguard uniform, but her version was different. Black jacket, unzipped, revealing a silver tanktop underneath. Black baggy joggers with silver chains that clinked when she moved. White socks, no shoes.
She looked comfortable. She looked dangerous. She looked like she knew both things and enjoyed them equally.
"David," Eloghosa said, gesturing toward the woman. "This is Tessy Ogbe. You're going to accompany her to Ekpoma."
David blinked. "Ekpoma?"
"City in Edo. About an hour from here. A Phobia manifested last night. Tessy's been assigned to exorcise it."
"And I'm going because..."
"Because you need field experience. And because I can't go." Eloghosa's jaw tightened. "I have other obligations."
Tessy pushed off the wall, her chains jingling.
"Other obligations," she repeated, her voice slow, teasing. "Is that what we're calling it now?"
Eloghosa's eye twitched.
"Tessy."
"I'm just saying. The great Eloghosa, too busy to handle a simple exorcism. Must be nice to have rookies to push around."
"I'm not pushing him around. I'm giving him experience."
"Experience." Tessy turned to David, looking him up and down. "You look tired, rookie. You been sleeping?"
"Not really," David admitted.
"Good. Neither will I. We'll get along fine."
She walked past him, toward the exit, then stopped.
"Oh, and David?"
"Yeah?"
"I may acknowledge Eloghosa as a Vanguard." She glanced back at him, a smirk playing on her lips. "But I don't respect him as a person. You should do the same."
Eloghosa's face went through several complicated emotions.
Ivie snorted into her meatpie.
"Tessy," Eloghosa said, his voice strained, "can we focus?"
"I'm focused. I'm always focused."
"You're never focused."
"I'm focused on annoying you. That counts."
From the hallway, Jaron walked past, Ezra a massive shadow behind him. Jaron glanced at the scene, raised an eyebrow, and kept walking. Ezra didn't even look up.
Another Vanguard—a woman David didn't recognize, in the Vanguard's uniform—passed by, saw Tessy and Eloghosa arguing, and immediately turned around and walked the other way.
"Coward," Tessy called after her.
"Sensible," the woman called back, disappearing around the corner.
Ivie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
"They're like this every time," she said to David. "You get used to it."
"I don't think I will."
"You won't."
David turned to Eloghosa. "Where are Praise and Jonathan?"
Eloghosa's expression shifted. Softer. Quieter.
"Abuja," he said. "Marcus's parents. The burial."
David felt something cold settle in his chest.
"They didn't tell me."
"They didn't want to…"
"They didn't tell me."
The room went quiet.
Tessy stopped smirking. Ivie stopped eating. Even Eloghosa, for once, didn't have a joke.
"David," Eloghosa said, "it's not that they didn't want you there. It's that they didn't want to... burden you. You're new. You're still…"
"Still what? Still a rookie? Still not part of the team?"
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
Silence.
Tessy broke it.
"Okay, rookie. I get it. You're angry. Good. Use it." She walked toward him, her chains clinking. "But right now, we have a job to do. A Phobia to exorcise. People to save. You can be mad at your friends later. Right now, you're with me."
She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could see the silver stud in her nose, the faint scar on her chin.
"Pack your bags. We're leaving now."
David's jaw tightened. "I just got here. I didn't even know about this mission."
Eloghosa stepped forward.
"It's covered. Everything you need will be provided in Ekpoma. Clothes. Equipment. Weapons." He placed a hand on David's shoulder. "Trust me."
"I'm tired of trusting people who don't tell me things."
"I know."
"Do you?"
"I know."
Eloghosa's pink aura flickered—just for a moment—and David felt something warm settle in his chest. Not a command. Not a compulsion. Just... reassurance.
"You'll be fine," Eloghosa said. "Tessy's annoying, but she's good. She'll keep you alive."
"Flattering," Tessy said.
"It wasn't a compliment."
"I'm taking it as one."
Eloghosa stepped back.
Pink doves materialized around Tessy and David—fluttering, glowing, warm.
"Ekpoma," Eloghosa said. "Go."
David looked at Ivie. She nodded.
He looked at the hallway where Jaron and Ezra had disappeared.
He looked at the empty space where Praise and Jonathan should have been.
Then he looked at Tessy.
She was smirking again.
"Ready, rookie?"
"No."
"Good."
The doves folded the world.
David closed his eyes. When he opened them, he'd be in Ekpoma. With a stranger. Hunting another monster.
And somewhere in Abuja, Praise was saying goodbye to Marcus.
Without him.