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Chapter twenty-nine

Felix

F elix

Annabella guided me to the nearest bed, and I set Talia down as gently as I could manage.

Annabella immediately began securing thick, padded restraints around Talia’s wrists and ankles.

Even the restraints bore symbols along their edges—containment spells designed to hold supernatural strength, probably.

How many Council members had fought against these same bonds? The thought made my stomach clench. How many had thrashed and screamed while Lydia systematically carved away everything that made them who they were?

“Quite the setup,” I managed, fighting the revulsion that crawled up my throat like bile.

“Lydia designed it,” Annabella replied, checking Talia’s pulse. “The medical equipment monitors vitals, but the real work happens with the circles. This is where she processes them and breaks through their mental defenses.”

Processes them. Like they were items on an assembly line, not people with lives and memories and families.

The door swished open, and Lydia and Mira walked in. Lydia’s eyes immediately fixed on Talia’s unconscious form, that same hungry look I’d spotted earlier intensifying.

“Were we followed?” Annabella asked.

Mira shook her head. “Lydia cast obfuscation spells, and I’ve been monitoring all surveillance feeds. We’re in the clear.”

Lydia moved directly to Talia’s bedside. “You cast Somnus Profundum ?” Lydia asked, waving her hand over Talia’s face, silver tendrils of magic dancing between her fingers.

“It’s holding,” Annabella said defensively.

“It’ll do,” Lydia replied with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “Amateur work, but functional. I would have used a binding component to anchor it directly to her nervous system, but this should last long enough for our purposes.”

Annabella’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t say anything.

“Can we get started?” Duke asked as he joined us. “The longer she remains here, the greater our exposure.”

Lydia nodded and began gathering implements from a nearby shelf, arranging them on a metal surgical table with the care of a chef laying out knives.

Something inside me wanted to recoil from the silver knife with runes etched along the blade that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it; colored vials containing compounds that shifted and pulsed like they were partially alive; what looked like a human tooth set in a copper amulet; and a small electronic device that resembled a smartphone but reeked of organic components fused into its electronic casing.

“How long?” asked Annabella.

“As long as it takes, Annabella, you know that,” Lydia replied, the irritation plain in her tone.

“I’m monitoring all external systems,” Mira announced. “Things are going bat-shit crazy out there. Council transmissions are hot with an alert out for a missing member, and they’ve called in the local police. I calculate a twenty-three percent chance they will find us.”

“Duke, verify our secondary escape routes,” Annabella ordered. “Ensure all exits remain viable if we need rapid extraction.”

Duke nodded and headed out.

My wolf whined, unsure of what to do. To protect Talia, I’d have to fight Annabella. To protect Annabella, I’d have to let Lydia mind-wipe Talia.

Fuck!

My mind raced through scenarios, each more desperate than the last. Direct confrontation would be suicide—I was outnumbered, and they held the tactical advantage.

I scanned the room methodically, mapping potential exit routes, calculating distances to Talia, to the door, to each potential opponent.

If I moved now, I might reach Talia, but then what?

She was dead weight, and I’d have three trained operatives on me before I made it ten feet.

What I needed was separation. Divide and conquer. Maybe I could isolate them, take them down quietly, one at a time.

“Annabella,” I said. “Can I speak with you privately for a minute?”

She glanced up, eyes narrowing slightly. “Now?”

“It’s about the trackers,” I improvised. “Something’s bothering me.”

Annabella hesitated, then nodded. “Make it quick.”

We stepped just outside the door.

“What’s this about the trackers?” she asked.

I had to get her further away, someplace I could knock her out and hide her while I took care of the others.

I motioned her further down the hallway, but before we got two steps, we heard Lydia’s voice, sharp with frustration. “Fucking, bloody hell!”

Annabella turned and rushed back inside. I followed, knowing I was running out of time.

Lydia stood over Talia, hands glowing with silver-purple energy, her face contorted with rage. One of her vials lay shattered against the far wall, its contents leaving an iridescent stain that seemed to be slowly eating through the concrete.

“What happened?” Annabella demanded.

Lydia whirled, eyes wild. “I can’t even begin the preparatory spells. It’s like trying to cast into a black hole.” She thrust out her hand toward Annabella. “Give me your hand. I need a power boost.”

Annabella hesitated for barely a heartbeat before reaching out.

The moment their skin connected, Lydia’s eyes flashed pure silver, and Annabella gasped as if she’d been struck.

Her knees buckled as Lydia began drawing energy from her through their joined hands, the magical drain visible as silver light flowing between them.

Lydia pressed her free palm to Talia’s forehead, chanting words that seemed to slide away from my ears, impossible to focus on.

The room thrummed with gathered power. The air itself seemed to vibrate, making my teeth ache. The witch circles beneath Talia’s bed pulsed brighter, responding to the magical pressure.

Damn it, I was out of time. I inched closer, mind spinning through scenarios. Tackle Lydia, then Annabella, then Mira before going for the boys.

Then, with a sound like a thunderclap, Lydia reared backward, breaking her connection with Annabella. She stumbled into the metal table, sending equipment clattering to the floor.

“FUCK!” Lydia screamed, grabbing another vial and hurling it against the wall. This one erupted in a flash of blue flame before extinguishing itself.

Annabella steadied herself against the wall, looking drained. “What the hell is going on?”

“I can’t penetrate her defenses.”

Annabella pushed herself away from the wall, moving closer to Talia’s still form. “How is this possible?”

“Could be the Mentem Clypeus compound,” Mira suggested. “There have been rumors about it circulating in chat rooms the last few weeks.”

Annabella turned to Mina. “Mentem Clypeus?”

Mentem Clypeus.

I’d heard whispers about it during my final briefings before going undercover—an experimental neural protection compound the Council’s research division had been developing. When I left for this mission, it was still in the early testing phases and deemed too unstable for field deployment.

If Talia was dosed with it, that meant the Council had fast-tracked the project.

“It’s a prophylactic chemical compound. You dose yourself with it daily. They say it gives you temporary protections against mind magic.”

“But my sleep spell worked on her.”

“Sleep spells target the autonomic nervous system.” Lydia paced along the side of Talia’s bed like a caged tiger waiting for its food to be delivered.

“They’re basic magic—primitive, really. Like turning off a light switch.

Manipulation of the mind is completely different.

It requires creating pathways into memory centers, establishing connections to specific neural networks. ”

Annabella stared down at Talia, her expression unreadable. “How long does this protection last?”

Mira pulled her phone out of her back pocket. “Let me check… reports vary. Six to forty-eight hours, depending on dosage and metabolism. The Council must have her on it as a precaution.”

“So, we wait,” I suggested, carefully masking my relief. “Until the compound has cleared her system.”

“We could try more invasive methods.” Lydia’s gaze never left Talia, but there was an almost hungry slant to her face. “Pain sometimes creates fissures in these kinds of protections.”

Annabella considered it, then shook her head, thank fuck. “No. Not yet. Zeke, I want a complete blood workup: full tox screen, metabolic panel, everything. Mira, dig deeper into this Mentem Clypeus. I want to know dosage protocols, half-life, anything that might tell us when we can proceed.”

“Annabella—” Lydia started, but Annabella held up her hand.

“My decision is final, Lydia. We don’t move forward until we have more intelligence on whatever the hell this is.”

Mira looked up from her tablet, alarm flashing across her features. “We’ve got incoming!”

“What?” Annabella straightened, though I could see the effort it cost her.

“Webster’s here. Full convoy just pulled up outside.”

Annabella’s face went pale. “He wasn’t supposed to—”

“I’ll go,” I said, already moving. She was still too drained from Lydia’s power siphoning to handle whatever crisis had brought Webster here unannounced.

I reached the facility’s main door just as it was shoved inward with enough force to make me step back.

Simon Webster swept through the threshold like he owned the place, his face a mask of composure, but it didn’t hide the rapid pulse at his throat.

His cement-and-lemon scent was laced with something sharper. Excitement.

That politician’s smile appeared and vanished as his eyes found me.

“Masters.”

“Felix,” I corrected, watching him assess and dismiss me in the same breath.

Vivienne Haines, with her ice-queen stare that slid over me like I was furniture, flowed through the doorway behind him. Eight more witches followed in their wake, a mix of suits carrying briefcases and others in tactical gear that suggested they’d come prepared for trouble.

My brain went into overdrive, automatically cataloging threats: distance to nearest weapons, potential chokepoints, reaction times, magical capabilities. Ten hostiles in a confined space. Not good odds.

“Webster. This is unexpected,” I said.

He barely glanced at me, already moving deeper into the facility. “Is it? Where is Annabella?”

“Inside,” I replied, nodding down the corridor. “I’ll get her.”

“No need,” Annabella’s voice came from behind us as she appeared with Duke and Lydia flanking her. Despite her controlled expression, I caught the subtle spike of anxiety in her scent.

“Simon. We weren’t expecting you.”

Webster didn’t acknowledge the greeting, his attention already focused beyond her. “She is secured?”

“Yes. Containment room, under a sleep spell.”

“Have you started the procedure?”

Annabella hesitated for a split second. “No. There’s been a complication with—”

“Mentem Clypeus,” Webster finished for her. “My sources in the Council informed me they have become more creative with their protections.”

I was watching Annabella’s face carefully, so I caught the flicker of surprise that Webster already knew about Clypeus.

“But I will take that as good news today; it provides plenty of time.”

Annabella frowned. “Plenty of time for what?”

Webster’s attention snapped to her. “What?”

“You said that gives you plenty of time. Time for what?”

Irritation flashed across Webster’s face. “That’s not your concern.” Then he turned to Vivienne. “Secure this facility. No one enters or leaves until I’m finished.”

Vivienne aimed a cold but satisfied smile at Annabella as if to say, See? He will always rely on me to do the important things.

“Of course.” Vivienne twirled one finger in the air as she turned to the witches behind her. “Lock it down.”

I couldn’t see exactly what they were doing, but the effect was immediate and overwhelming. Static electricity flooded the air until every hair on my body stood on end. A ward, it had to be. Big enough to cover the whole theater.

Well, that was just fucking dandy. The facility had been turned into a magical fortress in seconds. My burner phone might as well have been on the moon for all the chance I had of reaching it. I was trapped with fifteen hostiles. Talia was in immediate danger. And I had no way to contact Gideon.

This just went from bad to fucking catastrophic.