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A figure materialized from the aircraft's shadow. Never seen him before, but my assassin's instincts screamed danger.

He was tall, lean muscle under a threadbare black tee that clung to his frame, with the cold confidence of someone who'd survived St. Petersburg's harshest winters.

Worn black tactical pants hung low on sharp hips.

A few tattoos marked his visible skin. His golden brown hair fell in waves over a severe undercut on one side.

A single silver orthodox cross dangled from one ear, matched by a small hoop through his eyebrow.

His features were Slavic—high, sharp cheekbones, full lips curved into a permanent half-smirk, and eyes so pale blue they seemed almost colorless, like the eyes of a wolf in winter.

The katana strapped across his back seemed at odds with his Russian heritage, but he wore it like it belonged there. He moved like the blade was an extension of his spine.

The stranger took a drag of his cigarette, studying me through narrowed eyes. The silence stretched uncomfortably as he exhaled a perfect smoke ring.

"Jasper," Lo greeted him, breaking the tension. "Thanks for coming."

"Lorenzo." His voice was surprisingly soft, with an accent I couldn't place. "You said it was important."

"It is." Lo gestured toward us. "This is Luka and Dr. Matthews. The ones I—"

"I know who they are." Jasper flicked ash onto the concrete floor. "Prometheus's favorite attack dog. Until recently."

My spine stiffened at his dismissive tone. Vincent's hand pressed gently against my lower back, a silent reminder to stay calm.

"I'm no one's dog," I replied evenly.

"Everyone in The Pantheon is someone's dog. Some just have longer leashes than others."

Diego moved to a small refrigerator, extracting beers. "Let's talk business, yes? Before my dark prince here sends everyone into therapy with his brooding intensity."

He hopped onto a nearby workbench, legs swinging like an excited kid, his eyes constantly returning to Jasper. The look was unmistakable—pure adoration mingled with something deeper. Diego had it bad for the mysterious stranger .

I didn't miss the way Jasper's gaze lingered on Vincent. My hand instinctively settled at the small of Vincent's back, marking territory. Mine.

Jasper snorted, unimpressed. “Why am I here, Lorenzo?”

"Luka needs help," Lo explained. "Transport to a funeral. Something discreet. Something The Pantheon won't see coming."

"It's a trap," I clarified. "Set by Prometheus. He's killing the people Vincent cares about. One by one."

Jasper's eyes lingered on Vincent. I stepped closer to him, my shoulder angling in front of his chest. A clear message: Back off.

"Why should I help you?" Jasper demanded.

"Aw, come on, Jasper. Don’t be like that!” Diego said.

Jasper huffed. “Very well. The enemy of my enemy is useful, if not quite a friend."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" I demanded.

Jasper moved closer. "It means our interests align. For now. We share a target. Prometheus.”

As his blue eyes held mine, I suddenly realized something that made my blood run cold.

The intensity of his gaze, the calculated precision of his movements, the way he projected power without effort…

It was all eerily familiar. I’d seen his picture before.

Once upon a time, it had been plastered all over the Pantheon news.

"You’re him," I said, the pieces clicking into place. "Hephaestus."

Jasper's expression didn't change, but the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees. "Hephaestus is dead."

Lo's hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing in warning. "Identities are fluid in our world, Luka."

The silence stretched taut, electric with unspoken threats. Vincent's hand remained steady in mine, a silent anchor amidst the dangerous currents swirling around us .

Jasper considered me for another long moment, then nodded. "Who I am and who I am not doesn’t matter. You came here seeking help and I believe we can help each other. After all, you would rather have me as an ally than an enemy, da?”

He extended his hand. After a brief hesitation, I shook it. His grip was firm, precise. Professional.

"So," Diego clapped his hands together. "Now that we're all friends, let's discuss details. I can arrange transportation. Bulletproof. Two car changes. Enough guns to make you Americans proud. I’ve already worked out routes. But my assistance doesn’t come cheap. And I don’t take Pantheon currency."

I snorted. “I can pay. Just send me the details.”

Diego grinned and clapped me on the back. "Excellent! Now, for the specifics—"

"There's something else you should know about Prometheus," Jasper interrupted, his pale eyes fixed on me.

The room went still. Even Diego's perpetual enthusiasm dimmed as he cast a wary glance at his partner.

"What about him?" I demanded.

Jasper took a final drag of his cigarette before crushing it under his boot. "Prometheus answers to someone else. Someone called Zeus."

I frowned, genuinely confused. "Zeus? I've never even heard that name before."

"Of course you haven't," Jasper replied. "That's by design."

"And you expect me to believe this based on what? The word of a disgraced former director with a vendetta?"

Something dangerous flashed across Jasper's face.

Diego moved slightly between us, his smile gone. "Careful, amigo. Some topics are... sensitive. "

The tension stretched taut between us until Jasper exhaled slowly, his composure returning like a mask sliding back into place.

"Believe what you want," he said with cold indifference. "But when you go after Prometheus, understand you're poking a much larger beast than you realize."

Vincent, who had remained silent throughout the exchange, finally spoke. "How does this relate to Michael's death?"

Jasper's attention shifted to Vincent. "It’s part of the bigger picture. Why do you think Prometheus was testing Luka’s loyalty?

Because he’s consolidating power. He’s preparing for something.

Something big. And you two have now placed yourselves directly in his path.

You’ve given him no choice but to cut you down or die trying. ”

Diego moved closer to Jasper, his smile returning as he clapped a hand on the Russian's shoulder. "My dark prince is being dramatic again! Always with the conspiracies and shadows."

Jasper rolled his shoulder, breaking free of Diego’s grip.

Diego turned back to us with his megawatt smile. "We've said enough. Details of transportation, yes? Let's focus on keeping you both alive before we worry about the politics."

We worked out the logistics and traded contact information, all inside the space of an hour.

Later, as Lo walked us back to the van, I couldn't shake what Jasper had said.

"How well do you know him?" I asked quietly.

Lo shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Well enough to know he doesn't share information lightly." He glanced back toward the hangar. "And well enough to know he's rarely wrong."

"This Zeus thing—"

"Is above both our pay grades," Lo interrupted. "But I've seen things that don't add up. Operations that make no sense. Assets that disappear after asking the wrong questions." He met my eyes, uncharacteristically serious. "Just be careful, Luka. Whatever's happening, it's bigger than Prometheus."

The drive back in the van Diego provided was mostly silent, Vincent and I both lost in our thoughts. The revelation about Zeus—if it was true—complicated everything. It wasn't just Prometheus we were up against, but potentially an entire shadow hierarchy we knew nothing about.

As we approached a red light, Vincent's hand slid onto my thigh, thumb tracing small circles against my jeans. The casual touch sent electricity straight to my groin. I glanced over, finding his eyes dark and intent.

"Pull over," he said quietly.

I raised an eyebrow but complied, guiding the van into an empty lot beneath an overpass.

The moment the engine died, Vincent unbuckled and leaned across the console, his mouth finding mine in a hungry kiss that stole my breath.

His teeth grazed my lower lip, his tongue demanding entrance I willingly granted.

The kiss tasted of grief and rage and need.

I tangled my fingers in his hair, holding him close as the kiss deepened. His hand slid higher on my thigh, nearly reaching the straining zipper of my jeans before he pulled back, breathing hard.

"I needed that," he confessed, voice rough. "To remember we're still alive."

I traced his swollen lips with my thumb. "We're alive. And we're going to stay that way."

He nodded, settling back in his seat. "I know. Now drive. We have plans to make. "

My body hummed with unfulfilled need as I pulled back onto the road, but my mind was clearer. The physical reminder of what we were fighting for sharpened my focus.

"What are you thinking?" I asked quietly.

He turned to me, his gaze thoughtful. "About Michael. About Jasper. About all of this."

I reached across the console, finding his hand again. "We're going to make this right. Whatever it takes."

Vincent's fingers threaded through mine. "I know." He squeezed gently. "Thank you. For doing this. For risking everything."

"Not everything," I replied, the words escaping before I could analyze them. "You're the everything, Vince."

The admission hung between us, raw and honest in a way I'd never allowed myself to be. Vincent stared at me, eyes widening slightly before his expression softened into something that made my chest ache.

River City's skyline grew larger, jagged teeth against the darkening sky. An animal need to return to safety clawed at me. Twenty-six years prowling alone, and suddenly my lungs seized at the thought of facing anything without Vincent beside me.

For the first time since I'd seen Michael's body hanging from that shower rod, I felt something dangerously close to hope.