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“It is not as implausible as it sounds,” Evander countered.

“We’ve already seen the device Renwick’s master had Alastair Millbrook make to extract the life force of thralls.

James Thornfield was writing a thesis on elemental transmutation theory, an essential component of magical transference.

And we have established dark mages are involved in the disappearances that have taken place at the Institute and among the thrall population.

” He paused. “Although we do not yet know the details of how all these incidents are connected, there is no doubt in my mind that they are.”

A stark hush befell them.

“I have to concur,” Leon said reluctantly. “It is too much of a coincidence.”

Rufus and Shaw nodded in agreement.

Something that looked like relief flitted across Viggo’s face then. Evander resisted the urge to reach over and take his hand.

Winterbourne stood abruptly and strode to the window that overlooked the Thames. He stared out at the river for a long time, his back ramrod straight. He finally turned, his expression resolute.

“I want a full report on this James Harker. Expedite the necropsy and get me results by this evening.” Winterbourne’s gaze shifted to Viggo. “Mr. Stonewall, I’ll need a complete list of the missing thralls, along with all the information Nightshade has gathered on their disappearances.”

The tension in Viggo’s shoulders eased. “You’ll have it by lunchtime. I have a couple of requests of my own.”

Winterbourne raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“ Nightshade is planning to set a trap to try and lure the ones behind the thralls’ disappearances.

We have already asked Lady Hartley for her assistance in the matter.

I would be grateful if the Met could provide officers for this operation.

” The Brute paused. “We would also like one of your handwriting experts to examine the resignation notes many of the missing thralls supposedly submitted to their places of work. We believe they are forgeries.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Winterbourne said with a brisk nod. “I’ve already authorised full Arcane Division resources for this case. Duke Ravenwood and Inspector Grayson will see to it that we have men dispatched for the operation.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Viggo said solemnly.

Winterbourne hesitated. “Please be so kind as to offer my heartfelt apologies to the families of the missing,” he said quietly. “I shall ensure that the officers involved are reprimanded for their actions.”

Viggo blinked, his surprise evident. “I will convey your message.”

Evander suppressed a smile.

Winterbourne frowned at him. “Are you planning to return to the Institute today?”

“Yes. I’ve requested for Mrs. Scarborough to examine Whitley’s laboratory for any unexpected surprises in view of yesterday’s incident.”

Winterbourne bobbed his head. “Good.” He stilled, his frown deepening. “Incidentally, how goes the project you entrusted to Mrs. Scarborough and Mr. McAndrew?”

A buzz of excitement shot through Evander. “I believe they might be able to complete the prototype in the next month.”

“What prototype?” Viggo asked, his puzzled gaze swinging between them.

“I requested that Mrs. Scarborough and Elias McAndrew work on something that could disrupt the magic used to create shadow creatures,” Evander told him. “We could all do with such a device, now more than ever.”

Viggo’s eyes flared. “Is that even possible?!”

“We won’t know until we try,” Evander said, resolute.

Viggo swallowed and nodded. He looked at Winterbourne. “I would like to accompany them to the Institute.” He met Evander’s startled stare. “As the representative of the missing thralls, I believe it is my duty to do so.”

Evander hesitated before dipping his chin. Though they hadn’t discussed the matter that morning, he could not find a reason to refuse the Brute’s request.

Judging from Leon’s frown and Rufus’s uneasy expression, the two men harboured some reservations about this arrangement.

“Very well. I’ll expect a full account by this evening.” Winterbourne addressed Evander as they rose. “Ravenwood, a word in private before you leave?”

The others filed out, Leon casting a final glance at Evander that did not go unnoticed by Viggo. Winterbourne’s formal demeanour relaxed slightly when the door closed behind them.

“Evander,” he said, using his first name as he did only in private, “are you certain about involving Stonewall so deeply in this? The man has a complicated history with magical authorities.”

Evander grasped the commander’s unease on the matter.

“Viggo’s network has already provided information we would never have obtained through official channels,” he said quietly.

“And his insight into the thrall community is invaluable.” He paused, a faint smile curving his lips.

“Less you forget, he was also the one who identified Noctis Bloom as the ingredient the dark mages were using in their rituals.”

Winterbourne studied him, his expression unreadable. “There’s more to your relationship with him than professional collaboration, isn’t there?”

Surprise jolted Evander at the frank question. It was unlike Winterbourne to delve into his private life. A heavy feeling settled in his stomach as he met his commander’s steady stare.

The fact that he and Viggo had a close association that went beyond their mutual interest in enacting justice for thralls was a secret he knew he could not keep forever.

And neither did he wish to, despite London society’s views on the subject of two men entering an amorous relationship.

He was not ashamed of who he was and neither was Viggo.

It was a moment before he spoke.

“My personal affairs are my own concern, Commander.”

Winterbourne’s expression grew shuttered as he grasped the answer hidden in his words.

“Normally, I would agree. But these are not normal circumstances. If your judgment is compromised?—”

“It isn’t,” Evander cut in. “And it never will be.”

Winterbourne held his gaze for a long moment before sighing. “Very well. But tread carefully. This case has implications that reach far beyond Scotland Yard.”

Queen Victoria’s face swam in front of Evander’s eyes.

“I’m well aware. And Reginald?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you for your concern. I know you mean well.”

Winterbourne’s expression softened.

Evander found Viggo and Rufus waiting in the corridor outside the administrative offices, their postures tense.

“Did you send a message to Nightshade ?” he asked the Brute.

Viggo nodded stiffly. “I’ve asked Solomon and Finn to put the information we gathered in a report for Winterbourne.”

Evander frowned at his expression. He looked at Rufus. “Where are Leon and Shaw?”

“Shaw went to talk to Dr. Mortimer about James Harker’s necropsy,” Rufus replied awkwardly. “Leon said he wanted to get some fresh air.” He glanced at Viggo.

Evander’s heart sank. From the Brute’s mutinous mien, it appeared words had been exchanged in his absence.

He looked out the window. The rain had abated.

“Let us leave,” he said curtly. “The sooner we start investigating Whitley’s lab, the better.”

“Is everything alright?” Viggo asked in a low voice as they made their way back to the main entrance.

“Yes,” Evander replied, though the lie tasted bitter on his tongue. “Just some administrative details.”

“By the way,” Rufus said to Viggo uneasily as they negotiated the stairs. “Did something happen between you and Leon that I’m unaware of? He seemed very hostile towards you just now.”

Surprise flared across Viggo’s face. He stared at Evander.

“He doesn’t know?”

“No,” Evander replied irritably. “I don’t make it a habit of shouting my past affairs from the rooftop of every building in London.”

Confusion clouded Rufus’s face for a moment. He stiffened when understanding finally dawned. “Oh.” His expression fell. “ Oh… ”

“Yes,” Viggo confirmed darkly. “And it seems that French bastard wants to rekindle their past relationship.” He shot a guilty look at Evander. “Not that you have any intention of agreeing, of course. I completely trust you. You know that, right?”

Evander sighed. “How about we focus on the case?”

They were halfway across the foyer when Shaw appeared.

“I’ve spoken with Dr. Mortimer,” she said breathlessly as she joined them, her usual brisk stride even more hurried than normal. “He’s agreed to expedite the necropsy on James Harker personally, per your request.”

“Good,” Evander said. “Let’s not waste any more time.” He paused as a thought came to him. “By the way, did the forensic team find anything of note at Walter Whitley’s home?”

“No, your Grace,” Shaw said, chagrined. “Lady Whitley was most helpful, but there were no clues on the premises to aid our investigation.”

The forensic mage fell into step beside Viggo as they departed Scotland Yard, an air of curiosity evident in her sidelong glances.

“Something on your mind, Miss Shaw?” Viggo asked eventually, his tone surprisingly patient.

“I sense some tension between you and the French investigator,” Shaw said innocently. “So, what’s the beef between you two?”

Viggo blinked. Rufus groaned.

“How about you save your investigative spirit for Whitley’s laboratory, Shaw?” Evander suggested coolly.

The forensic mage wrinkled her button nose, her eyes gleaming with undiminished curiosity. “But my investigative spirit senses a scandalous story, your Grace,” she declared, unabashed. She grinned at Viggo. “And judging from Mr. Stonewall’s expression, it’s a humdinger.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Viggo protested at Evander’s frown.

Leon was waiting for them outside Scotland Yard, next to a police carriage.

The ride to the Royal Institute was swift, the tension between the Frenchman and Viggo eclipsed by that of their forthcoming task.

Evander could feel Viggo’s discomfort intensify when they passed through the iron gates of the Institute. For a man who had spent his life avoiding the magical elite, entering this bastion of arcane privilege must have been like walking into the lion’s den.

The courtyard was strangely quiet. To Evander’s relief, they did not cross paths with any meddlesome faculty members on their way to the south wing.

Fitch and Bartley stood to attention outside Whitley’s lab. They greeted Evander with a salute, their gazes settling on Viggo with undisguised curiosity.

Fitch’s eyes widened with recognition. “Oh.” He recovered his composure. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” He bobbed his head courteously.

Viggo appeared surprised for a moment. “I appreciate the sentiment, Constable, but I am hardly a noble,” he grunted.

“You are a hero of the people, sir,” Fitch stated quietly. “And I believe in giving credit where it is due, regardless of status.”

Evander couldn’t hide his astonishment. This was the most he’d ever heard Fitch articulate to anyone about his personal opinions.

Shaw beamed at Viggo. “See? I told you so.”

Bartley elbowed Fitch sharply in the ribs. “ Psst ,” he hissed. “Who is this bloke?!”

“It’s your favourite thrall.”

Bartley stared.

Fitch made a face. “Viggo Stonewall? The Ironfist Brute?”

Bartley blinked. His eyes bulged and his mouth rounded on a gasp. He stared at Viggo, starstruck.

“Is it true you can bend steel with your bare hands, sir?!” he blurted.

Shaw snickered. Leon looked on disapprovingly. Rufus muttered something under his breath.

Viggo scratched his cheek awkwardly, not quite sure what to make of the constable’s enraptured gaze. “Yes.”

Bartley reached inside his jacket and jerkily removed a notebook and a magic quill. He shoved them in Viggo’s face. “Could I please bother you for an autograph, sir?!”

“For the love of God, Bartley,” Rufus groaned.

Bartley pretended not to hear the inspector. “It will be our family’s pride, sir,” he pleaded.

Viggo hesitated before reluctantly taking the notebook.

Leon’s expression went from disapproving to plain disgusted.

“Mrs. Scarborough is already inside,” Fitch reported to Evander while the Brute gingerly signed the paper. “There have been no disturbances since we started our watch yesterday.”