Page 13

V anya

The elevator climbs through the Syndicate Towers, giving me a few precious moments alone to gather my thoughts before facing the world that sees me as the Ivory League’s secret weapon.

It’s been twenty-four hours since I questioned Hargen in that sterile chamber. Since then, I’ve picked apart every word, every micro-expression, every careful breath while he spun his lies.

He remembered the third option.

I just pray that he understands that I was forced to take it that day. Not to die. Not to betray him. But to survive in the only way available to me. And thank God that I did, or the child I didn’t know I was carrying would have died with me that day.

My fingers brush the tablet containing my preliminary report as the elevator slows.

The doors slide open to reveal my executive floor.

I expect the usual quiet—Marek at his desk, reviewing schedules, the soft hum of everyday operations.

Instead, Vex waits in my outer office, his solid frame making my assistant’s workspace look cramped.

“Elder Arrowvane.” Marek shoots me a look that says I tried to warn you. “Elder Vex and Director Creed insisted on waiting rather than scheduling an appointment.”

Of course they did. Vex has never been one for protocol when he wants something. And Creed is increasingly showing himself to be the man’s personal attack dog.

“Thank you, Marek. Hold my calls.” I gesture toward my inner office. “Elder Vex. Director.”

Creed emerges from behind Marek’s desk, where he’d been studying my assistant’s computer screen. Probably searching for signs of disloyalty or hidden communications. The man sees conspiracy in coffee orders.

Paranoid bastards.

But their suspicion keeps me sharp, keeps my cover intact.

I glance over my shoulder at them as I make my way into the office. “This is unexpected. I assume you’re here about my preliminary assessment?”

Vex’s mechanical nod carries weight. “Among other things. Shall we?”

My office door closes behind us. Vex settles into the chair across from my desk while Creed continues his restless pacing near the windows, wound tight enough to snap.

I sink into my tall, leather office chair and place my tablet on the polished surface between us.

“So,” Vex begins without bothering with small talk, “what have you found?”

“The subject’s story has enough truth to seem convincing,” I begin, keeping my voice steady and cold. “His account of manipulation through the handler bond shows he understands Rossewyn magical techniques. The psychological markers fit with genuine coercion.”

Vex leans forward, suddenly more interested. “You believe he was legitimately compromised?”

“To a degree.” I pause, letting the qualifier hang between us. “But he’s holding back. Information he thinks is too dangerous to reveal in a formal interrogation.”

Creed stops pacing, turning toward me with sharp interest. “What kind of information?”

I meet his gaze through my mask, staying calm while my mind races through the careful truths I need to weave. “Aurora’s security goes deeper than he’s admitted. The network of contacts within our ranks—it’s bigger than his initial testimony suggests.”

The words taste bitter, but they serve their purpose. The elder perks up immediately.

“I suspected as much.” Vex’s satisfaction shows in his posture. “The pattern of interference we’ve tracked suggests coordination, not random mercy. What else did he say?”

“Not much more than he told our initial interrogators.” I shrug.

“Despite your efforts?” Vex’s satisfaction levels drop a notch. “How could that be?”

“The subject fears retaliation,” I continue. “From possible traitors in our ranks with Aurora associations. His cooperation would increase significantly if I could get him outside.”

Creed’s scaled skin shifts beneath his uniform. “Outside how?”

“Remove him from the interrogation chamber. Create an atmosphere that suggests partnership rather than hostile examination.” I lean back, projecting confident assessment. “Fear shuts people down. Trust—even fake trust—opens them up.”

And gives me the private access I need to coordinate our next moves.

The thought carries more weight than strategy. Our time apart may have ended yesterday in that sterile room, but our reunion felt incomplete. Hollow. We need time away from cameras and listening devices to plan how we’ll protect Ember.

And maybe I simply want to be alone with him.

Vex studies me for long moments, his mask giving away nothing. “You’ve never had to struggle to break an interrogation subject before now. What’s changed?”

“This one has been altered by the most powerful witch we’ve ever had in our facility,” I say smoothly. “Her influence affected him significantly.”

“So you’re suggesting we deviate significantly from standard procedure.” He doesn’t look convinced.

“Standard procedure hasn’t gotten us the intelligence we need,” I point out. “The subject knows things that could identify Aurora operatives within our organization. Knowledge that dies with him if we push too hard, too fast.”

“The security risks—” Creed begins.

“Are manageable.” I cut him off without bothering to look in his direction. “Maintain surveillance. Limit his movement to secure areas. But create conditions that encourage voluntary disclosure rather than forced extraction.”

Silence stretches between us, filled only by the soft hum of climate control and the distant sounds of the tower’s daily operations. I watch Vex weigh options, calculating risks against potential gains.

Finally, he speaks. “What environment do you propose?”

“My private offices. Magical wards prevent unauthorized surveillance while maintaining security protocols. Comfortable enough to suggest partnership. Isolated enough to prevent escape or communication with external contacts.”

And private enough for the conversation that will determine whether we save our daughter or watch her burn.

Creed’s expression darkens. “You want unsupervised access to a potential Aurora infiltrator?”

“I want effective interrogation of a valuable intelligence asset.” My voice gets that edge that’s silenced stronger opponents than him. “My methods have produced results for fifteen years, Creed. I suggest you trust them.”

The words carry just enough bite to remind him where we stand in the hierarchy. He may command security operations, but I answer directly to the Ivory League. In this room, his authority stops where mine begins.

Vex raises a hand before Creed can respond. “How long would you need?”

“Seventy-two hours minimum. Possibly longer, depending on his cooperation.” I meet his gaze steadily. “Building trust takes time. Breaking psychological barriers requires patience.”

Three days. Enough time to plan. To coordinate. To find a way out of the trap closing around all of us.

“The timeline works,” Vex decides. “But I want regular updates. Every twelve hours, regardless of progress.”

“Of course.”

“And full surveillance on the transfer,” Creed adds, making it clear he’s not asking. “I don’t care what wards you’ve got—I want eyes on both of you until he’s secured in your facility.”

I nod gracefully, as if his paranoia doesn’t perfectly serve my purposes.

Let him watch the transfer. Let him see nothing more threatening than a prisoner moving from one cell to another.

He’ll never suspect he’s facilitating the reunion that will either save us all or destroy everything we’ve built.

“When can we begin?” I ask.

“Immediately.” Vex stands, his movements carrying decisive energy. “I’ll have the transfer orders prepared. Creed will coordinate security protocols.”

“Understood.” I rise as well, my movements suggesting professional satisfaction. “I’ll prepare my facility for an extended session.”

As I move toward the door, Vex’s voice stops me. “Elder Arrowvane?”

I turn back, maintaining a careful balance of respect and authority.

“This intelligence could be crucial to our ongoing purification initiatives. Don’t disappoint me.”

Behind my mask, I smile with genuine warmth for the first time in years.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I turn away before my smugness betrays me.