Page 3

TWO

AERIN

T he council chamber felt smaller with Dr. Aerin Thorne in it, her presence somehow compressing the space until everyone seemed hyperaware of exactly where she was standing at any given moment.

She'd taken the seat usually reserved for visiting dignitaries, her leather satchel arranged precisely beside her chair and her credentials spread across the table in a display that was both respectful and subtly intimidating.

Elder Ruth examined the documents with the careful attention of someone who'd learned not to trust paperwork at face value.

The University of the Northern Courts letterhead was genuine—Ruth had seen enough fae documentation over the decades to recognize authentic magical signatures—but it was the federal authorization that made her eyebrows rise.

"Regional Supernatural Authority clearance," Ruth read aloud, her knitting needles stilled for once. "Signed by Director Chen himself. That's not the kind of approval they hand out for academic curiosity, Dr. Thorne."

"No, it isn't," Aerin agreed, her posture remaining perfectly composed despite the weight of scrutiny from six council members.

"The RSA has been monitoring unusual magical signatures across the continent for the past eighteen months.

There's been a pattern of instability at sites with historical significance, particularly those associated with colonial-era supernatural settlements. "

Leo shifted in his chair beside Sheriff Torres, his lion prowling restlessly beneath his human facade.

Every instinct he possessed was screaming warnings about the woman sitting across from them, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly what triggered his unease.

She smelled like old magic and winter storms, with an underlying scent that reminded him uncomfortably of the moments before lightning struck.

"What kind of instability?" Dr. Vasquez asked, leaning forward with the intensity that marked her as someone who'd spent decades studying supernatural phenomena. "Are we talking about minor fluctuations or something more significant?"

Aerin reached into her satchel and withdrew a tablet displaying a continental map dotted with colored symbols.

"Cascade failures. Salem lost containment completely three weeks ago.

The binding beneath Pioneer Square in Seattle is showing stress fractures.

New Orleans reported a forty percent drop in containment efficiency last month. "

The chamber fell silent except for the soft whisper of Ruth's suddenly resumed knitting. Cascade failures weren't theoretical academic concepts—they were crisis management terminology used when supernatural containment systems began failing in connected sequences.

"You're suggesting our recent magical disturbance is part of a larger pattern," Councilman Bradford said, his vampire senses apparently picking up details the others missed. "That whatever happened here is connected to failures at other historical sites."

"I'm not suggesting it. I'm stating it as fact based on eighteen months of data collection.

" Aerin's fingers moved across her tablet, highlighting a series of dates that formed an unmistakable progression.

"The timeline is accelerating. Salem failed first, then Seattle showed symptoms, followed by New Orleans.

Your site activated with the strongest magical signature we've recorded.

The pattern indicates this location might be the key to understanding why the containment systems are failing. "

Leo's hands clenched into fists under the table. "And you just happened to show up with federal authorization and detailed knowledge about classified municipal matters because you're concerned about academic research?"

"I showed up because my specialty is founder magic and ancient binding systems, and because the alternative to understanding what's happening is watching every supernatural containment site on the continent fail in sequence.

" Aerin's pale eyes fixed on Leo with uncomfortable intensity.

"Unless you have a better explanation for why Salem's founding families have been having prophetic dreams about lion shifters and waterfall caverns? "

The words hit Leo akin to a physical blow. Salem. The founding families. Dreams about lions and waterfalls. His brother Marcus had mentioned similar dreams in the weeks before his death, visions that Leo had dismissed as stress-induced nightmares from working too many dangerous cases.

"How do you know about the dreams?" he demanded, his voice rougher than he intended.

"Because I've been interviewing surviving founder descendants for six months, and the pattern is consistent across bloodlines.

" Aerin pulled out a thick folder filled with transcribed interviews and medical reports.

"Prophetic dreams, ancestral memories surfacing during sleep, visions of ancient rituals and binding ceremonies.

The dreams always intensify before a cascade failure occurs. "

Ruth set down her knitting entirely, a gesture that indicated the conversation had moved beyond polite academic inquiry into genuine crisis management.

"Dr. Thorne, I'm going to ask you a direct question, and I'd appreciate a direct answer.

What exactly do you believe is causing these cascade failures? "

"Something is actively working to destabilize the bindings," Aerin said without hesitation.

"The founders didn't just create individual containment sites—they built a network of connected seals designed to hold something that was too powerful for any single location to contain.

Break enough individual seals, and the entire network fails. "

"And then what happens?" Sheriff Torres asked, though her expression suggested she already suspected the answer wouldn't be pleasant.

"Then whatever the founders worked so hard to contain gets loose.

" Aerin's fingers drummed once against the table, the only sign of nervousness she'd displayed.

"Based on my research, I believe they were binding pieces of something that was too dangerous to destroy—an entity that had to be scattered and contained rather than eliminated. "

Lyra felt her founder's mark pulse with recognition and fear. The letter in her pocket seemed to grow heavier as Aerin's words painted a picture that aligned too closely with the visions she'd been having since the storm.

"You're describing a deliberate campaign of sabotage," Dr. Vasquez said slowly. "Someone with knowledge of the founder network and the power to manipulate ancient magical systems."

"That's exactly what I'm describing." Aerin leaned back in her chair, her scholarly mask slipping enough to reveal genuine concern.

"Which is why I need access to your historical records and the site itself.

This location's magical signature suggests it might be the primary node in the network.

If I'm right, understanding what happened here could provide the key to preventing a complete cascade failure. "

Leo stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor with enough force to make everyone look at him. "Absolutely not. We're not giving an outsider access to classified sites based on federal paperwork and academic theories."

"Captain Maddox," Ruth began, but Leo was already shaking his head.

"Elder Ruth, with all due respect, we don't know anything about this woman beyond what she's told us.

She shows up with convenient authorization and detailed knowledge about our most sensitive magical assets, claims to be researching cascade failures that just happen to match our recent experiences, and wants unlimited access to examine our defenses.

" His golden eyes fixed on Aerin with predatory intensity.

"That's either the most remarkable coincidence in supernatural history, or the setup for something much more dangerous. "

"You think I'm lying?" Aerin's voice remained level, but there was steel beneath the academic politeness.

"I think you're telling us exactly as much truth as serves your purposes and not one word more," Leo replied bluntly.

"I think you know more about our situation than someone should who's supposedly conducting independent research.

And I think giving you unrestricted access to our most critical infrastructure would be criminally negligent. "

Aerin studied him for a long moment, her pale eyes cataloging details with uncomfortable precision. "You lost someone, didn't you? Someone close to you, to supernatural forces you couldn't control. That's why you're so determined to keep threats at arm's length."

The words hit harder than Leo had expected, and for a moment his careful control slipped enough to let his lion's grief and fury show through. "What I've lost isn't relevant to this discussion."

"It's completely relevant," Aerin said quietly. "Because the forces that killed someone important to you are the same ones that are destabilizing the founder network. And if we don't figure out how to stop them, everyone you're trying to protect is going to die anyway."

The following silence was broken only by Ruth's suddenly rapid knitting, her needles clicking with the rhythm of someone working through complex calculations. Finally, she set her work aside and looked around the table at her fellow council members.

"Dr. Thorne will be granted limited access to our historical archives and research sites," Ruth announced, her tone brooking no argument. "With conditions."

"Elder Ruth—" Leo began.

"The conditions are non-negotiable," Ruth continued, cutting him off.

"Dr. Thorne will be supervised at all times by Captain Maddox.

She will not access any restricted areas without council approval.

All research findings will be reported to this council before being shared with outside authorities.

And her access can be revoked immediately if she violates any aspect of these terms."