I stared at him, startled by the questions that pitted coffee against gore.

“You won’t be jumping anywhere,” Lydia said, pulling Tess back into an embrace. “Reapers are to hold down the fort. Just Strikers and the wolf out on this run.”

“And me,” Adne said.

“I heard you’re the new Weaver, Ariadne.” Isaac was pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Welcome aboard.”

“Adne,” she replied. “It’s just Adne.”

“Still rebelling against your father, Ariadne?” Tess asked as she leaned against Lydia. “We’ve talked about that.”

“You’ve talked about that,” Adne said, pushing past them to grab a seat at the kitchen table next to Ethan, who was staring at his coffee and a plate full of cookie crumbs. “And would you two get a room? You know not everyone here has stumbled across true love and yet you two rub our noses in it every chance you get.”

“Watch it,” Lydia said. “We don’t get that many chances and you know it. We’re lucky to share an hour in the same time zone on most days.”

“Besides, you’re sixteen, Ariadne.” Tess fixed her with a stern gaze. “You haven’t had time to stumble across love yet.”

“Sure she has.” Connor slid into the chair on the other side of Adne, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “She just doesn’t appreciate it yet.”

Adne groaned and dropped her forehead onto the table. “I’ll marry the first person who gets me a cup of coffee, I don’t care who it is.”

“Throw me a mug, Isaac!” Connor half rose.

“Oh, please,” Adne mumbled onto the tabletop.

“Are you kidding?” Connor said. “A cup of coffee instead of a ring? That’s the kind of proposal I’m ready for.”

I traced the cool metal band circling my finger. When I caught Adne watching me, I hid my hands under the table.

“And all you can afford,” Isaac added.

“Well, that too.” Connor laughed.

“I still don’t have any coffee,” Adne said. “Even with my generous offer.”

“Don’t give up that easily, sweetheart.” Isaac smiled, bringing Adne a steaming mug. “Coffee, Calla?”

“Uh, I—” I hesitated, still not understanding this bizarre chatter in the face of impending battle. “Shouldn’t we focus on the attack? Anika said we only have a brief window for this to work.”

The room went silent. I held my breath, clearly having said the wrong thing.

Tess took pity on me. “Sweetie, there’s always time for a cup of coffee.” She took my arm, settling me in the chair next to Connor.

“Time for anything good when you’re staring death in the face,” Connoradded.

“Amen,” Ethan muttered from the corner.

I gazed at their thin, bleak smiles and my confusion evaporated. I thought about their lives. About what they had to face. Keepers. Guardians. Wraiths. The stuff of nightmares.

Survival. That’s what this was about. The Searchers were warriors, like Guardians. They looked at every fight like it could be their last. All of this—from oddly timed coffee to Connor’s inappropriate jokes—fortified their defenses. Only this wasn’t body armor. It was a mental bulwark. A way to save their spirits from despair.

As strange as it was, I could get on board with this strategy. Especially if it involved coffee, though I wondered if the crankiness of not getting any might give me the winning edge in a fight.

“What is this place?” I asked, trying to piece together the storage area, the training room, and now the kitchen.

“We have outposts adjacent to the major Keeper settlements across the globe. They have two main purposes: to keep us connected to our contacts in the human world and to use as staging areas for strikes against Keeper targets.”

“It’s home sweet Purgatory.” Isaac sighed.

“It may be Purgatory.” Lydia laughed. “But the coffee is damn good.”

“Purgatory?” I frowned, then smiled when Isaac handed me a mug full of swirling liquid, black as tar.

“You know, it’s the place you get stuck between heaven and hell,” Connor said. “Heaven being the Academy and hell . . .”

“Is Vail.” Ethan pushed his chair back and went to the far side of the room, apparently no longer able to tolerate my presence.

Tess shook her head at him, but he ignored her, drinking his coffee in solitary silence.

I decided that giving Ethan a wide berth was probably my best bet. Whether he trusted or liked me didn’t matter. I hadn’t come here to make friends. I was here to save my pack.

I turned back to Connor. “So where are we exactly?”

When I asked the question, I had to hide my own shudder; if we were close to the Keepers, how safe could we be?

Lydia answered as she and Tess joined us at the table. “We’re in a warehouse in Denver. Weavers open doors from here to our strike sites. Strikers come and go according to their assignments.”

“And we Reapers sojourn alone,” Isaac said, looking mournful.

Tess clucked her tongue. “Are you saying I’m not good company?”

“Not if it means you’ll stop cooking for me.” Isaac flashed a grin at her.

“He’s got you cooking for him now?” Lydia asked. “You’re much too nice.”

“Don’t ruin my arrangement, woman!” Isaac protested. “Plus I do the dishes.”