Page 50

Pride mixed with concern in my chest. He was good at this, too good. But some truths were dangerous to know.

“Smart boy,” Rowan purred, but her eyes were sharp. “Perhaps too smart.”

Isaiah Reed leaned forward, his voice carrying the baggage of his former life as a prosecutor. “The question becomes whether that intelligence serves Hallow's purpose or works against it.”

“The barriers between worlds are thin in places,” I continued, choosing my words carefully. “New York sits on a convergence of ley lines, making it... vulnerable. Hallow was founded to guard those weak points, to prevent anything from crossing over.”

“And now someone's trying to open them again,” Cade concluded. “Using these marks, these sacrifices...”

“The Guardian's victims,” I added grimly. “He's not just marking them for death. He's marking them for something worse.”

Colonel Harker's fist came down on the table. “This is precisely why outsiders should remain outside. Knowledge without the proper context is dangerous.”

Dr. Li raised a calming hand. “Yet here he stands, having discovered more in weeks than many find in years. Perhaps we should consider that the old ways of secrecy are no longer serving us.”

Rowan moved to the center of the room, silencing the brewing debate with her presence alone. “The question, Agent Cross, is why you're really here. Are you seeking answers, or absolution?”

“Neither,” Cade replied, meeting her gaze steadily. “I'm here because whatever's happening in my city is bigger than jurisdictional disputes or ancient grudges. And if working with Hallow means stopping it, then that's what I'll do.”

I watched him carefully, noting the steel in his spine, the quiet determination that made him both fascinating and dangerous. He wasn't afraid, not of Rowan's power, not of Hallow's secrets, not even of the truth unfolding before him.

“Tell me exactly what The Guardian promised your victim,” I said, leaning against an ancient weapons rack with practiced casualness. Inside, every instinct was on high alert.

Cade pulled out Sullivan's journal, and I watched the other Hallows shift uncomfortably as he read. “Protection from 'the hungry ones.' Said he could ward off whatever was hunting them. Charged them fifty grand for the privilege.”

“Fifty grand?” I whistled low. “O'Brien's prices have gone up.”

“That's not the interesting part.” Cade opened the journal to a marked page. “Sullivan wrote that The Guardian seemed scared. Said something was 'changing the game.' And look at this.” He showed us a crude drawing of a symbol. “The same mark we found at Phoenix's research sites.”

Rowan's face went still in that way that meant serious trouble. The other Council members exchanged glances heavy with meaning. I'd seen that look before, right before Dublin went to hell.

“O'Brien's a con man,” I said carefully, “but he's not stupid. If something scared him enough to get sloppy...”

“Phoenix Pharmaceuticals,” one of the Council members muttered. “Always pushing boundaries they shouldn't.”

“They're buying up properties along ley lines,” Cade continued. “And now they're connected to murders bearing marks that look suspicious.”

I straightened, pieces clicking together. “O'Brien wouldn't know those symbols unless...”

“Unless someone taught him,” Rowan finished. Her power crackled through the room like static. “Someone with access to the old texts.”

Well, shite. This just got considerably more complicated.

“So either O'Brien's working with Phoenix,” I mused, watching Cade's quick mind work through implications, “or he's running from them. Either way...”

“We need to find him,” Cade finished.

“We?” I asked, letting my accent thicken. “Getting awful cozy with pronouns there, fed.”

“You know his patterns and his location. I bring manpower” Cade met my gaze steadily. “Seems like a natural partnership.”

“Partnership comes with conditions.”

“Of course it does.” His slight eye roll shouldn't have been as endearing as it was.

“You follow my lead when it comes to Hallow business.” I straightened up. “I know you can handle yourself but O'Brien's our problem to deal with.”

Something flickered in his eyes at the mention of his past, but he didn't flinch. “I don't take orders well.”