Page 14 of Fallen (Designation #2)

LEVIATHAN

Another whole day and no answers from Essence PI regarding Elias’ whereabouts. When I asked Gerald last night what happened and how Elias could have possibly known about the ginger, his answer was cryptic at best. Something about how ginger grows in that part of the forest.

I really hoped meeting someone like me would give me meaning but it’s really just starting to piss me off. Which is why I’m at the condo rather than in the office I’ve been given, poring over papers and trying to make sense of what Elias said to me.

My phone buzzes, Rowan grabbing it from the kitchen table and chucking it at me.

Silas: I’ve been tracking Elias. Found something. Meet me at the diner, midnight.

As much as I don’t want to do this, it might be the only thing we have. I tell my mates, Rowan shaking his head. “Lev, this screams trap,” Rowan growls, stopping to glare at my phone. “Silas already led you into one ambush. Why the hell would you trust him now?”

I sigh, running a hand through my unruly curls. “I don’t trust him. But he’s not the killer, Rowan. Elias is. And if Silas knows where he’s hiding, we need to hear him out. I’m not saying to give him another chance but maybe he’s feeling enough guilt to help us end this.”

Amand’s jaw tightens, his hand gripping the counter. “Hear him out? He’s been playing you since the nightclub. That notebook, the sob story about Elias—how do you know he’s not setting you up again?”

“I don’t,” I admit. “But we’re out of leads and I can’t trust Gerald to truly help us without one of us getting hurt. Elias is wounded, but he’s still out there, and he’s coming for me. If Silas has something, I have to take the risk.”

Rowan’s growl vibrates through the bond, and he stalks over, looming over me. “You’re not going alone. That’s non-negotiable.”

I roll my eyes, but my heart does a stupid flip at his protectiveness. “I wasn’t planning to, snake boy. You and Amand are coming, whether Silas likes it or not.”

Amand’s lips twitch. “Good. Because if he tries anything, I’m sinking my fangs into him again. And this time, it’ll be fatal.”

***

I head toward the back of the diner, confused when my gaze falls on Silas. He looks worse than last time—hair mussed, eyes shadowed, his tailored suit replaced by a wrinkled jacket. “Lev,” Silas says, his voice low. “Thanks for coming. I know you don’t trust me.”

“Understatement of the century,” I mutter, crossing my arms. “What’s this lead, Silas? And don’t waste my time.”

He leans forward, his hands clasped on the table. “Elias is holed up in a hidden enclave in the forest preserve, near the old oak grove. I’ve been tracking him since he took you the other night.”

Knowing Silas figured out I was taken and didn’t do anything about it just pisses me off. He’s definitely on my shit list, still. “What’s in it for you?”

Silas hesitates, his eyes flicking to Rowan and Amand. “I want Elias stopped. He’s my brother, but he’s gone too far. And… I owe you, Lev. For college, for everything.”

I scoff, the old hurt bubbling up. “You owe me? That’s rich. Elias stepped in and told me I was nothing, pretending to be you and you never came back to right that wrong. And now your twin’s killing because of me. Spare me the guilt trip.”

Silas flinches, his expression pained. “I know I fucked up. But this is real. The enclave’s dangerous, but you’re the only one who can get close. Your Chameleon magic—it’s perfect for infiltration. I… uh studied it a little bit and it looks like it might work if the legends are true.”

“Fine,” I say, standing. “Give me the coordinates. We’ll check it out.” It could be another trap but I’m going to call a different kind of backup this time. Shifters I’ve worked with personally, which have no ties to Gerald and Essence PI.

Silas slides a folded paper across the table, his fingers lingering. “Be careful, Lev. Elias… he’s not himself anymore.”

I pocket the paper, ignoring his touch. “Yeah, well, neither am I. Stay out of my way, Silas.” He has the decency to look hurt as we head back outside, driving in silence to the edge of the preserve.

Few words are said as we move through the underbrush, careful to stay quiet until we reach what is supposedly the enclave.

It feels like we’ve been walking for hours but it’s barely been thirty minutes.

After tonight, I demand that the police start clearing out the forest because this is the second case I’ve dealt with deep in the trees, with people believing they don’t have to follow the law.

We slip through the enclave’s barrier with ease—mostly because I assume no one is coming out here by accident.

And that’s when I catch the god awful setup of every stereotypical unicorn thing laid out in front of me.

Horns, stars, and glittery bullshit are plastered everywhere.

I mutter under my breath, “Unicorns need a new interior designer,” and feel Amand’s silent chuckle right behind me.

Unicorn magic coats this entire place, shifters moving through the camp, their eyes glazed, chanting about purity and power. It’s creepy as hell, and I’m hyper-aware of Rowan and Amand’s tension, their beasts ready to strike.

We duck behind a tent, and I peer through a gap, spotting a central altar draped in white cloth, a unicorn horn gleaming on it.

I’m about to signal the guys when a hand grazes my back, and I nearly jump.

It’s Rowan, his human form pressed close, his hand slipping beneath my shirt to rest on my bare skin.

“You got this, Lev,” he whispers against my ear. “We’re right here.”