“How do you feel about working with Hever?” I asked Yilan as we made breakfast over a small fire.
She grimaced. “I like himlessthan spiders,” she drawled, but her words lacked the heat she’d had the day before. Was she softening? Or just tired?
“I thought about what he said, about posing more than one problem for Lucifer at the same time,” I offered. “I don’t know if it’s what he meant, but I see a need for multiple fronts. Multiple battles to be fought, so he’sforcedto choose one.”
Yilan nodded, staring into the flames as she poked at them. “It’s a sound approach, but… how?”
“That’s the hard part. I feel like Hever might have ideas that could help us—but I’m still unsure whether to trust him or not.”
“Well, before we bring him in—what options do we have? What politics do the Nephilim invest in? Or is it all just rape and cruelty by whatever opportunities present themselves?”
I looked at her flatly. She raised one brow and didn’t take it back.
“What we need,” I muttered, “Is something to undermine the Neph’s confidence in Gall’s leadership.”
“Well, that’s Lucifer himself. You really think there’s a way to make the Neph question him?”
I shrugged. “That’s the question. Anything that could get the Neph whispering and undermining…”
Yilan frowned. “Diadre and I can shadow walk and explore, see if we can find any areas of unease or resentment that we could exploit by speaking into their minds, affirming any doubts. Are there bloodlines, or leaders who might be upset that Gall was appointed and given so much power? Men who thought they’d have a shot at the crown?”
“What you need, is to—”
The voice came from nowhere, and Yilan and I both leaped to defense, drawing blades and turning back to back, only to find Hever, his cloak hood shrouding his face, standing twenty feet down the tunnel.
Yilan hissed when she saw him, but I tensed further.
“Hever, what the fuck?”
“I chose this path to return to the city, because it comes out on the plains, which is an easier walk—I need them to see me coming,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “I thought I should make myself known after I heard my name mentioned.”
Instincts prickling, I gazed at the man and squeezed the hilt of my blade.
Hever hadn’t been lying when he’d said his strengths no longer leaned to battle and blade, but he was no fool—and not unskilled. I didn’t underestimate him in the least.
“Your mate is right that the Fetch can help you–ifthey’re loyal,” he said casually, as he started up the path towards us. “You know how superstitious our people are. Let the Fetch feedmystical knowledgeto the mediums that our strongest leaders lean on.”
Why hadn’t I thought of that?
Yilan frowned, “Melek, what is he talking about?”
“I’ll explain later,” I said quietly, still watching Hever approach, his hands buried in the sleeves of his cloak.
“If you need help with names, I have servants who can provide them. I’ve often wished I could use that channel more reliably. Bribery is so easily revealed—or outbid.” Hever grimaced. He was only feet away now, but just kept walking. “This seems like the perfect opportunity toactuallydeceive them.” He nodded at Yilan. “After all… to defeat a supernatural enemy, it seems one might need supernatural assets?”
Yilan and I both stood, watching, as Hever continued up the path, passing us without picking up his pace, then walking on—even when his back was bared to us.
“Use the enemy’s primary weapon—deception—against him. Not about your leadership, of course, Melek,” Hever said quietly,turning his head slightly to be easily heard as he walked away. “That point isn’t a lie. We all know that.”
I watched, dumbfounded, as the man walked on, until he was out of sight around a corner.
Neither Yilan nor I moved for a full minute. Then Yilan blinked out of sight—which always startled me. But I nodded. She’d make certain he’d kept going. He knew she had the ability and he’d assume she was checking, I had no doubt he’d stay on the move. The question was, had the timing of his approach been fortuitous… or had he been out of sight, waiting?
Yilan didn’t return for almost fifteen minutes. Then she reported that he never slowed or turned back at all, just kept on his way. “…The man is a walking nightmare,” she muttered.
I nodded, but scratched the back of my neck. “He’s… an enigma.”
Yilan snorted. “That’s one word for it.”
