Page 96 of Daggermouth

Callum’s free hand clenched into a fist. “One. Any more risks exposure if I’m bringing her.”

Another pause. “Okay. Tomorrow night. The usual place?”

“No. I’ll send coordinates an hour before. And whoever you send better understand the stakes.”

“They will.”

Callum ended the call, immediately wiping the tablet’s memory. The device would show nothing more than a normal evening’s browsing history, carefully cultivated to maintain his cover.

He slipped the device back into his pocket and made his way to the kitchen, as his mind began to race with contingencies, with the delicate dance of betrayals and allegiances that had become his life.

The kettle met the stove with more force than necessary, the metal connecting with a sharp clang that echoed through the quiet space. His hands wouldn’t stop shaking. Not from fear—he’d long ago trained that response out of his body—but from rage so concentrated it seemed to have its own gravity, pulling at his muscles, his bones, his blood.

Maximus was cracking, pressure slowly breaking down the dictator. That meant their window was closing. Whatever he was planning, whatever was causing him to snap, was nearing. They had to strike first.

While the water heated, he measured loose tea leaves into a porcelain pot—chamomile and lavender, something to help her sleep. The kettle began to whistle, steam erupting from its spout in an angryplume. Callum removed it from the heat, pouring the boiling water over the leaves and watching as they unfurled, releasing their essence. As the tea steeped, he pulled out his tablet again, keying in a different set of security protocols.

This call connected immediately.

“Sir?”

“Bring Davish in,” Callum ordered, keeping his voice low. “First thing in the morning, to the interrogation room in my private residence.”

“Yes, sir,” the man replied without hesitation. “Any specific preparations?”

Callum’s fingers tightened around the tablet. “Make sure he arrives with all his Serel Industries credentials. I want his access.”

“Understood, sir.”

“And, Meras,” Callum added. “No trail, no records.”

“As always, sir.”

The call ended, and Callum set the tablet aside, pouring the steeped tea through a strainer into a delicate cup—a relic of his family line that had belonged to his mother before she passed. He added a spoonful of honey, knowing Lira’s preference for sweetness, and carried it toward the guest room.

Serel Industries was the key—the last piece of the puzzle he needed to understand what Maximus was planning.

Callum paused outside the guest room, listening. The sound of water lapping against porcelain told him Lira was still in the bath. He slipped into the room and made his way toward the bathroom door, careful not to spill the tea. It was partially closed, a small crack wide enough that he could see a sliver of her body through the mirror’s fogged reflection, hear the broken, muffled sound of her trying not to cry but failing.

His knuckles rapped against the door. “Li?”

“Come in,” she said so soft he could barely hear it.

Callum pushed open the door and met a wall of steam and heavy warm air. It all registered as background as his gaze focused on her and froze.

She sat in the tub like a child trying to disappear, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped around her shins. She still wore her mask—that broken, bloodied thing as the water lapped at her waist. She made herself as small as possible, a defensive curl that revealed the trauma she never spoke of.

Her shoulders shook. Slight tremors that ran through her whole body, visible even through the steam. Each breath came ragged and wet, catching on sobs she was trying to swallow.

Something fractured in his chest at the sight.

“Your tea,” he said gently, setting the cup on the table next to the tub before sinking to his knees beside it. “It might help you sleep.”

Lira nodded but made no move to take it.

“Do you want to be alone? Do you want me to leave?” he asked, though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

She shook her head, a quick, almost desperate motion. “No,” she said. “Please, don’t go.”