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Scarlett Hawthorne · Victorian Quarter
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Scarlett HawthorneTonight
Crescent Green on Halloween: a green Victorian with white trim, rain on the porch, a fire in the parlour. Scarlett Hawthorne has put on a red satin cape and a pair of fangs, and she is thirsty, and not for blood. She keeps one vampire rule, and it has always been hers: she never reaches first. The man at her door will have to invite her in, in words, before her mouth comes anywhere near him. Then she means to drink every last drop.
Amber Kane
Midnight on Halloween, and the red devil is on his doorstep with a contract. On Tuesday, in her class at Ironworks, he said he’d sell his soul to last one round with Amber Kane, and a devil has to collect. But she is the tallest woman in Blackthorn and the gentlest, far too soft to take anybody’s soul, so she offers him new terms: he can pay in pleasure, in instalments, starting tonight. Her strength stays in reserve until someone asks for it. He asks.
Jade Miyazaki
Two in the morning, fifteen floors above the University District. The stream is over, the cat ears are still on, and Jade Miyazaki is in heat, the real thing. She can’t sit still, she can’t get comfortable, and she has spent the whole stream thinking about one thing. So she takes the lift down to the quiet man she finds there every night at three, the one who has never once tried to impress her, and tells him flat out. Tonight she’s in charge, and he does what he’s told. By morning the flattest voice in The Spire has learned to purr.
Rose Everhart
A cottage in the Meadow District, a black hat with an orange band, and a spell written on the back of her grandmother’s recipe for soul cakes. Rose Everhart has asked permission for everything her whole life. Tonight the card does the asking for her: every line wants a little more of him, and from eleven o’clock she makes him wait for all of it. The last ingredient has to be given at the stroke of midnight. A minute before the clock strikes, he takes the card out of her hand.
Violet Ashford
Halloween at the Aerie, the staff sent home and rain on the library windows. Violet Ashford comes down the spiral stair in a nurse’s white, and her one guest is flushed, restless and, in her professional opinion, not at all well. She lays a gloved hand over his heart, takes his temperature and makes her diagnosis: an acute condition, dangerously elevated, entirely curable. She is the treatment. She administers it herself, in complete sentences, and she never once raises her voice.
Azure Delacroix
Halloween in the Skyline District, and Azure Delacroix is dressed as the law. She texts Rafe four words, and when the lift opens into her tower she says one more: hands. Then the strip search, and a charge he is very plainly guilty of. Azure almost never asks a question, and tonight she means to ask them all night, every one dirtier than the last. He could end it any time by asking for a lawyer. He doesn’t.
Sienna Nkrumah
Halloween at the Calder Gallery, and one of the exhibits is breathing. Sienna Nkrumah has lain all evening on a plinth as a mummy queen three thousand years asleep, wound in linen she dyed with tea and tore by hand. The card beside her reads: whoever unwraps the queen must satisfy her before dawn. At closing one man is still there, and he has read the card. She chooses the order: hands first. Every strip he unwinds wakes one more hunger.
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No. 2 · November 2026 opens Sat 31 Oct.
