Page 43 of Daggermouth

“She cares about you, more than she should. More than she will ever admit. That makes you valuable to them, if they know about your connection.”

Jameson tilted his head. “You think they’re using me to control her?”

“I think Maximus Serel didn’t survive this long by leaving tools unused,” Jaeger replied. “If he knows about you, he’ll use you. One way or another.”

Jameson hadn’t even considered his own life in this scenario, at the possibility that it was now in danger. He thought of the clinic, how the drones had found him there. How many others had they been watching? How many of Shadera’s connections had they already uncovered? Was it just him?

“Kael just became the face of the revolution to the rings because of what those prisoners did,” Jaeger said, his voice cutting through Jameson’s thoughts. His gaze turned to the mercenaries around the room, many of whom were listening intently now. The crowd had already doubled since Jameson entered Wolf’s Head, and they were all watching him.

“Their deaths weren’t wasted. The Heart wanted to silence them, but they just made the message louder. The Cardinal is buzzing with it. Even parts of the Heart’s service class have heard whispers.” Something passed over Jaeger’s eyes—a calculation, a decision being made. “We’ve been planning for years, building networks, preparing for the opportunity to strike. This might be it. The spark we need to light the fire properly.”

Jameson’s blood ran cold. “You want to use her as a symbol, while she’s their prisoner?”

“She’s already a symbol,” Jaeger snapped. “Whether she wants to be or not. The question is how we use that to help her—and help the cause.”

“Fuck the cause,” Jameson hissed, low enough that only Jaeger could hear. “Get her out.”

Jaeger’s eyes narrowed on Jameson. “You think I don’t want that? She’s one of my best. My most loyal. But rushing in blind gets her killed faster than waiting for the right moment.”

“While you wait for the ‘right moment,’ they’re doing God knows what to her in that tower,” Jameson said, his voice dangerously close to cracking. “We all know what the President does to his prisoners.”

“She’s stronger than you think,” Jaeger countered. “Trained for this exact scenario. She knows what to do, how to survive, how to feed them just enough to keep herself alive without giving away anything important.”

“And if they break her? If they turn her against us?”

Jaeger hesitated for only a moment, then answered. “Then I’ll put her down myself.”

The words hung between them, cold and final. Around them, the bar had fallen into an unnatural silence, every Daggermouth watching the exchange with calculating eyes. Jameson was acutely aware of how outnumbered he was, how many blades and bullets could find him before he reached the door.

But fear had burned away, replaced by a clarity he hadn’t felt in years. Shadera was alive. Captured, but alive. That was all that mattered.

The bartender approached again, refilling their glasses without being asked. This time, he lingered a moment longer than necessary, his eyes flickering between Jameson and the broken drones before speaking. “Word from the Cardinal. The Veyra are doubling patrols along the main routes between rings. Something big is happening.”

Jaeger nodded once in acknowledgment, then turned back to Jameson. “We have people inside the Heart. Not many, but enough to get information. As soon as we know more about Shade’s situation, we’ll plan accordingly.”

Jameson took the fourth shot of whiskey, the alcohol doing nothing to dull the edge of his growing anger. Jaeger was playing a longer game—he always was—but Shadera didn’t have the luxury of time. Not if Maximus had his hands on her.

“How long?” Jameson asked. “How long before your informants get anything useful?”

“Days. Maybe a week,” Jaeger admitted. “The Heart is locked down tighter than usual. Something else is happening that we don’t fully understand yet.”

A week was too long.Far too long.

Jameson stood, gathering the broken drone parts and shoving them back into his bag. “Keep me informed. Anything you hear, I want to know immediately.”

Jaeger watched him, expression sliding back to unreadable. “Where are you going?”

“To find someone who might know more than your informants,” Jameson replied, already turning toward the door. “I have my own contacts.”

“Be careful,” Jaeger said, the warning clear in his tone. “The drones were just the beginning. If they’re watching you, they’ll be ready for your next move.”

Jameson paused, looking back at the Wolf of the Boundary. “Then I’ll make sure it’s not what they expect.”

He strode to the exit, feeling the eyes of every Daggermouth tracking his movement. His mind was already five steps ahead, creating contingency plans, mapping routes into the Heart, cataloging the weapons he would need.

Jameson was halfway to the door when something inside him snapped. The accumulated pressure of days without sleep, the fear that’d been his constant companion since Shadera walked out of her warehouse, the casual way Jaeger spoke of waiting while she suffered—it all crystallized into a single, blinding point of rage.

He pivoted on his heel, strode back to the table, and slammed his fist down so hard the whiskey glasses jumped. One rolled across the table then shattered against the floor.