“Appetency,” I say vaguely. No sense sharing about Zoe. Morwyn knows, but the brother is anything but a gossip. “It’s hit me hard today.”
“Call in another Taurus, brother,” Ellison says. “It’s uncomfortable, but you’ll feel so much better afterward.”
Even the thought of calling in Mia turns my stomach. Besides, I couldn’t do that to Zoe. Rejected or not, I don’t want to hurt her. Learning I was with someone else so soon after we were together would unsettle her, maybe cheapen what we shared. Zoe’s not a dragon and doesn’t fully understand the appetency that strikes my kind during our alignment. I won’t do it.
I place the pictures of the ring at the center of the table and pour myself a cup of coffee. “With the help of Zoe, we’ve deconstructed the ring. It’s complex magic.”
“So, does she think she can create something to defend us against it?” Lucas asks.
I frown and reach for a cinnamon roll. If there’s one surefire salve for a broken heart, it’s butter and sugar. I’d better eat two. “Unfortunately, we may need to find someone else for that part. Every time Zoe uses her magic to study this thing, she becomes extremely ill. That’s why I look like this. I was up most of the night making sure she came out of it. Going in again could kill her. I haven’t spoken with her yet today, but we should be prepared. We may need to find another way.”
Ellison scowls. “We should get to finding one, then, because Lucas found something in Maryland.”
I make eye contact with the Leo, and he tosses a manila envelope in my direction. I swipe it off the table and tip the contents out beside me. A series of grainy photos spreads across the table. They are all taken from a distance, maybe using a drone or a telephoto lens.
“Where is this?” I ask, trying to place the opulent mansion.
“New sale on the coast. Property is registered to a corporate entity.” Lucas massages his jaw. “I tracked the bakery bomber by rummaging through a few heads. He was seen exiting the private drive that leads to this place, which is why I decided to dig a little deeper, and I think you’ll be as surprised as I was to see who is living at that mansion.”
I flip to the next picture and focus in on the profile of a man standing on the balcony. “Who am I looking at, Lucas? It’s pretty far away. This could be anyone.”
“Look closer. Flip a few photos in.”
I do as he suggests, and my heart lodges in my throat. I do know who this is, and the realization sends an icy chill down my spine, cold enough to temporarily douse my fever. “Who is this? It looks like?—”
“Roman Cifarelli.”
“Connor killed him. I saw his dead body pinned to the wall with his throat ripped out. We all watched his house burn down.”
Coming to my side, Lucas shuffles through the pictures and points at a close-up of the man. He has three pale scars that pucker along his neck, and half his face appears melted by fire.
“By the creator, how is this possible. No human could survive that.”
Ellison couples his hands together under his chin. “No human could survive…without magic,” he clarifies. “And Roman had plenty of dark magic.”
“And something else,” Lucas says. “When I was investigating, a name came up again and again in the heads of people who had seen the bakery bomber. A waitress who’d served him lunch remembered him telling her that she should prepare herself for the return of the destroyer. She didn’t know what he meant, but it gave her the chills. Really freaked her out.”
I run through the pictures again. “Cifarelli Enterprises has moved on without Roman and Stefan. They’ve named a new CEO. Roman hasn’t been seen in public since Connor put a sword through his chest.”
“All true,” Ellison says.
“Do you think Roman is calling himself the destroyer now? Opting for the big bad moniker and telling his followers that he rose from the dead would definitely galvanize his base.”
Lucas and Ellison nod in unison. “We suspect the same thing,” Ellison says. “Roman is playing dead, but he’s still leading the charge, and he’s targeting us like never before.”
I flatten my hand next to Roman’s damaged profile. “So, to temper the Order, we have to take out Roman. And now we know where he is.”
“Yeah, we know where he is, but attacking him there will be problematic. The place is guarded around the clock by guys with rings. He must have secured a ton of Donovan’s blood before he died because they are recruiting at a record pace—and not just the rich and powerful anymore. Any man who they can convince to join.”
“We’ve found the same thing. We targeted a club owner who fit the profile, but his two friends, who definitely did not, also had rings. And they must have been recent recruits because they barely knew how to use their weapons.”
“How many rings did you get?” Lucas asks, his eyes darkening.
“Three.”
“Did you look at the inscriptions?” Ellison’s mouth takes on a sardonic tilt.
“No. Why?”
