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SPAR HQ seemed quiet as we pulled up in the van. The rear gates yawned wide, the courtyard beyond empty, and the doors to the vehicle bay gaping open. No evidence of forced entry, but disconcerting in the failure of these barriers.

Another SPAR unit had beaten us there, clustered near their vehicle as they watched us approach.

“Report,” I said as we climbed out.

One of them stepped forward. “Lieutenant Haines. We’ve just arrived, sir. The SATCOM’s down, and—” He grimaced, realizing that was obvious. “No movement inside.”

That suggested Moreau’s forces—and the escaped convicts—were likely long gone.

“Very well,” I acknowledged. “Stay here and form a defense with any other units that arrive. We’ll scout ahead.”

“Yes, sir.” He turned to his men. “Hold position and secure the perimeter.”

Yeah, that. I really should have read more military fiction.

I glanced at the girls. We raised our shields and headed for the vehicle bay.

Inside, bodies lay strewn across the floor, all in SPAR uniforms. The only mercy was that there weren’t more of them. We pushed through and ran for the Containment doors—also breached, every layer of protection reduced to scrap.

More bodies lay just inside, like some of the SPAR forces had tried to mount a resistance. Streaks of carbon and melted infrastructure marked spellfire. Two overturned desks had proven to be inadequate barriers. Every glass partition had been smashed, shards grinding beneath our boots.

But the place was empty.

Maybe they were deeper inside, but with no vehicles left in the bay and no guards posted, it seemed unlikely.

Beside one body lay a dagger, giving off shadow aether to my senses.

I picked it up, feeling better for having a weapon.

Its sheath was on the belt of its dead owner, lying face down.

I gritted my teeth and rolled him over, unbuckled his belt and pulled it off.

Kara and Iyoni watched in silence, no judgment in their eyes as I looped the sheath onto my own belt, but kept the dagger ready.

We walked through Containment to the main doors into the Nexus, and these, at least, were closed and secure, a red warning light strobing above them. Too little, too late.

I tried my pass on the doors and they swished open.

A jet of flame and a lance of ice burst through, both exploding on the reception desk behind me. All three of us jumped to the side, out of direct sight.

“Hold fire!” The command came from within the Nexus, and I recognized Firth’s voice.

I shouted back. “This is Assistant Director Xan Sullivan. There are no hostiles remaining. Identify yourselves.”

“All forces stand down,” I heard Marlow shout. “Xan, show yourself.”

I kept my shield up, but dropped my link to Iyoni, letting the white swirls fade away—they would only raise very awkward questions—until just Kara’s black remained. Then I poked my head around the corner, ready to draw it back if need be.

The Nexus had been turned into a last-ditch defense, with tables hastily pulled together to form a barricade from which a dozen SPAR agents huddled behind.

Marlow stood tall in the center of them, hands clasped behind her back.

It was something of a relief to see her; at least it meant there would be some order in the remnants of SPAR, even if we didn’t always see eye-to-eye.

Happier that they weren’t going to take more potshots, I stepped out fully in view. “They’ve gone, Director. They’ve got what they came for.”

Firth emerged from behind a barrier, expression grim. “Let’s go see how bad it really is.”

With too many of us to take the elevators down to the lower floors, we used the stairs; drab, white-painted walls and function over form.

I pulled my phone out and subtly texted Natalie, letting her know we were here, and asking if she’d heard any movement.

Her reply in the negative was reassuring; confirmation that none of Moreau’s forces remained.

I sent a follow-up, asking her to come join us in the stairwell as we passed her floor.

“Hold up, Natalie is down here,” I said, pitching my voice to ensure all of our larger group heard. “Try not to blow her head off.”

She joined us a minute later, wide-eyed and with crumpled clothing. “Director.” She nodded a greeting to Marlow, but it was Kara she chose to walk next to, a step behind me. I gave her a warm smile, glad to see her safe and well.

We proceeded on down two more floors, the décor changing from white-painted walls to steel panels. The door at the bottom was reinforced, a biometric security panel nearby. Except the door was hanging half off its hinges, and smoke drifted aimlessly from the panel.

Firth held up a closed fist, then waved two SPAR agents forward. Their equipment gleamed with activated aether, barriers and defensive measures, one holding a wand, the other with a sword. They crept forward to the doorway, covering each other. Professional and serious.

The rest of us waited as they scouted on ahead, but it was pretty clear whoever had been here was long gone.

They returned shortly, combat readiness replaced with grim resignation. “The entire block has been emptied out, sir.”

Firth turned to Marlow. “We need to get communications back online and pull everyone in. With a mass escape of this magnitude …” He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

Marlow started barking out commands, but I didn’t pay attention. This was SPAR’s problem, not mine, and with the threat of Dacien over, so was my reason for remaining. As soon as the opportunity availed itself, I’d be cutting ties.

“Let’s head back up,” I said quietly to Kara and Iyoni, sheathing my new dagger. “We still have work to do this evening.”

“Xan?” Marlow called my name as I turned to leave, and I hesitated, waiting for her. She stepped over as Firth and the rest of the group dispersed on the tasks she’d set them. “This is a nightmare,” she said, looking haggard and drawn. “I may have to pull in help from Federal SPAR Oversight.”

“That’ll be interesting,” I murmured in reply. “Not least because Firth believes the bomb warning came from there.”

She winced. “I hadn’t forgotten.”

I braced myself, seeing this as the expedient, if somewhat callous, moment to separate myself. “Director, I’m well aware that SPAR was compromised based on intelligence that I passed you. I apologize for my inadvertent role in this, and … I tender my resignation, effective immediately.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Noble of you, Xan, but I can’t afford to let good men fall by the wayside in times like this. Besides, the decision to act was mine, not yours, and so is the responsibility.”

That hadn’t been the reaction I’d anticipated. I raised an eyebrow. “‘Good men?’ Aren’t you always complaining how much work I make for you, and how you’re overpaying me?”

She regarded me seriously. “You saved agents’ lives at the docks. And again when the patrol was ambushed—”

“—At least one of which wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been there.”

“Nevertheless, you perform well under pressure, and Firth respects you.”

Both my eyebrows raised this time. “Pardon?”

Her lips twisted in something close to a smile. “It’s true, even if he sometimes doesn’t show it. You’ve proven your loyalty today, and you put the lives of others ahead of your own.”

It was an effort not to give her a skeptical look for that ‘loyalty’ comment, given the hooks Moreau had into her. And I didn’t even know how deep they went.

“So did you,” I said instead, pointedly.

She winced, knowing what I was referring to, then straightened as her jaw firmed. “Moreau played both of us, and I won’t forget that. You prioritized the safety of the people of New Providence, and I won’t forget that either.”

I nodded. “Well, I did what I could. I still think it’s better if I resign. We both know I’m not SPAR material.”

She laid a hand on my arm. “I won’t argue that, Xan, but what you are is a warlock. The only warlock. For that reason alone, I’d ask you to reconsider. With Moreau more powerful and tensions higher than ever, we need a role model for the supe community.”

“You want to use me as a mascot?” That sounded like an excellent reason for leaving.

“No.” She paused, withdrawing her hand. “Well, yes, I suppose so. Less a mascot, more a well-regarded and popular face in the media. But I won’t argue semantics with you. The supe community needs guidance right now. They’re hurting, they’re getting angry. Just think of the good you could do.”

I remembered the ice supe in the park, the moment when he asked me if I was going to lead the supes. Maybe there was something to what she was saying. “I’ll give it some thought,” I said. “Still, if that’s the goal, we may need to rethink my role.”

“Of course,” she said too eagerly. “Whatever role you think best suits.”

She’d latched on, like I’d already agreed. Maybe I had implied that.

There was still the small matter of me not being who SPAR thought I was.

Marlow already knew I wasn’t a ‘professor’, but that would come out sooner or later, causing only problems. Then there was the fact I was an Aetherborn, not merely a warlock.

This was more complicated than merely being a face for the masses.

If I stayed around any longer, SPAR might become a part of me. More than it already had. I wasn’t sure that was good for any of us.

I settled for giving her a nod. “I don’t think this is the time to resolve anything, Madeline. SPAR needs to concentrate on the prisoner breakout.” And I needed to concentrate on Moreau.

“I quite agree,” she said. “Take the weekend, and let’s discuss it on Monday morning. Along with a salary.”

Generous of her. Also, not at all what I meant.

“We’ll see,” I said. “Good hunting.”

“You too,” she replied.

It was only after I walked away with Kara and Iyoni that it struck me as odd that she’d said that.

Unless she suspected what I was planning to do.

*

We went home, too tired to even drop the van off first.