Evander’s mouth soured. He levelled a hard look at the inspector, his mind racing. “I need every resource your division can spare.”
Richter nodded curtly. “Consider them yours. After what happened tonight, my commander will not hesitate to offer any and all aid.”
Evander released the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.
“Thank you.”
They left the opera house just as the local police swarmed the place, Solomon’s anguish a palpable thing that filled the grim silence in their carriage. Richter had gone ahead to mobilise his division. Laurenz had retreated to his estate with police protection, still shaken but determined to help however he could.
Evander’s mind raced through possibilities and strategies. Anything that might lead them to Ginny and Shaw before morning came.
Frustration burned through him when no avenue presented itself.
They needed more information. And they needed it now.
They arrived at the hotel and gathered in their suite, the tension thick enough to choke on.
“We need to move,” Solomon said, his voice raw. “Every minute we waste?—”
“We have no idea where they’ve been taken,” Rufus said heavily. “Charging off blindly won’t help them.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Solomon snarled. “Sit here and wait for their bodies to turn up?!”
“Solomon.” Viggo’s voice was quiet but firm. “Rufus is right. We need a plan.”
Evander walked restlessly to the window and stared out at Vienna’s glittering lights without seeing them. His reflection gazed back at him, hollow-eyed and grim.
They still had St. Aegidius to investigate. But they couldn’t do so yet. Not without finding Ginny and Shaw first.
“A word, your Grace,” Fairbridge said coldly.
Something in his tone made Evander’s stomach twist.
He turned and met Fairbridge’s gaze. The spy’s expression was carved from granite.
“In private,” Fairbridge added.
Evander hesitated, then nodded. He followed Fairbridge into the adjoining room and closed the door behind them, conscious of Viggo’s gaze tracking them.
Fairbridge rounded on him the moment they were alone.
“What in God’s name were you thinking?!”
Evander blinked at the venom in his voice. “I beg your pardon?”
“At the opera.” Fairbridge’s composure cracked, revealing the anger that had been simmering beneath. “You ordered everyone to evacuate while you stayed behind to face God knows how many dark mages. You put yourself directly in the line of fire with no regard for your safety?—”
“My safety hardly mattered in that moment!” Evander snapped. “I’m an Archmage and a Special Arcane Investigator. It is my job to defend ordinary civilians.”
Fairbridge’s voice dropped to a furious hiss. “You’re also related to Queen Victoria, Your Royal Highness!”
Evander went very still. Blood roared in his skull, a cacophony that drowned out everything else.
“What did you just call me?” he mumbled numbly.
“You heard me right the first time.” Fairbridge stepped closer, his tall frame rigid with tension. “Why did you think General Hartwick sent me on this mission?”
Evander swallowed past the sudden lump in his throat. “To report our activities to the Ministry?”
