Aiden Knight's POV
I wake to the sound of rain pattering against unfamiliar windows. My head throbs like someone used it for hammer practice. The events from last night flood back – the stone, the visions, the overwhelming rush of ancient knowledge.
I'm lying on a couch in what looks like a modest apartment. Sunlight filters through cheap curtains. This definitely isn't the Graves mansion.
"You're awake."
I turn toward the voice. A young woman stands in the doorway, holding a steaming mug of coffee. She's pretty in an understated way – shoulder-length brown hair, intelligent eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses, wearing a simple business suit.
"Where am I?" I ask, sitting up slowly.
"My apartment." She sets the mug on a side table. "I found you collapsed in an alley behind the old industrial district. You were burning up with fever and talking nonsense about graveyards and swords."
