"Well," Kaveh said with forced cheer, "at least we know the surveillance system works."
"Since stealth is officially off the table," Dre said, pulling out what looked like a small crystal that pulsed with soft blue light, "might as well go with the nuclear option. It’s your EMF dampener.”
Phi’s face brightened. “Oh! We haven’t tested that, but it should scramble any electronics within a fifty-yard radius." I crossed my fingers that it worked. I hadn’t realized Phi had finished the device.
Dre activated the device, and I watched the red lights on the cameras above us flicker and die. The wailing alarms went next. Sometimes it paid to have a sister whose hobbies included magical gadgetry that would make government spooks weep with envy.
The warehouse's main entrance was secured with locks that would have challenged a professional thief. There were multiple deadbolts and a reinforced security bar across the door. "We need to tackle these together and fast," Lia said as she moved toward the entrance. "Before whoever's inside can gather their attack."
The alarms had stopped when Dre killed the surveillance system. That didn't mean we weren't expected now. If anything, the sudden silence was more ominous than the wailing sirens.
"There are multiple magical signatures inside," Phi reported. "At least three, maybe four. And they're moving."
"Then we definitely don't have time for finesse," Dre added, cracking her knuckles. "Everyone channel into me—I'll be the focal point."
We formed a quick circle in front of the door. Each of us placed a hand on Dre's shoulders or back. A familiar tingle traveled up my arm as our magic linked together. Our different types of power flowed into Dre's technical expertise, like tributaries feeding a river. She directed it into a concentrated battering ram of supernatural force. This wasn't about elegance or subtlety; it was about raw, overwhelming power applied with surgical precision to one specific target.
The locks disintegrated. Our combined magical sledgehammer hit the security system like a freight train made of pure energy. Deadbolts vaporized, the security bar crumbled to dust, and the reinforced door frame cracked under the assault before the door swung open with a groan of defeated metal.
What should have been a twenty-minute lockpicking job had taken thirty seconds of coordinated magical assault. We slipped inside like we belonged there. Though, after Kaveh's spectacular landing under the surveillance cameras, subtlety was probably a lost cause anyway.
The interior made my jaw drop. This was a professional intelligence center that would have impressed the FBI. Maps covered every wall showing suspected Guardian sites across multiple states. Genealogical charts traced bloodlines back centuries with red X's marking ‘neutralized’ families. Surveillance monitors displayed real-time feeds from Congo Square, Preservation Hall, and even Willowberry's front lawn. The latter was filmed from across the street but the people milling about were still obvious.
"Jesus Christ," I breathed, studying a wall of photographs that looked like a serial killer's trophy collection. "He's been watching everyone."
There were files marked financial records, medical histories, daily schedules, even DNA analysis. Michel approached this like an expert researcher. Too bad he put all this effort into evil. He could have solved some serious problems with his skill.
"There are Guardian tools over here," Phi called from a workstation covered in corrupted artifacts. "Crystal orbs, scrying mirrors, and so much more. He's perverted them into some kind of communication network."
"These have been soaked in malevolent energy for years," Kaitlyn said grimly.
Kaveh examined the surveillance equipment with a dangerous focus. "They're using djinn-crafted components as well. Someone's been trading with entities they shouldn't have."
"All to give the Collector eyes and ears wherever it needs them," a gravelly voice said from behind us.
We spun to find Michel Drake emerging from the shadows. He was in his early forties with classical features. He would be good-looking if his eyes didn’t hold a fanatic gleam that marked him as a power-hungry loon.
"The famous Six Twisted Sisters," he said with a horror-movie smile, "and the High Witch of New Orleans. You’re a surprise,” he said to the djinn leader. “How delightfully diverse. You've been even more helpful than I anticipated. Every move you've made has served our purposes perfectly."
"Our purposes?" Dre snarled, magic crackling around her hands. "You mean you and the horror that is going to be your demise?"
"The Collector isn't a horror—it's an inevitability," Michel replied with disturbing conviction. "The binding was alwaystemporary. You need to understand cooperation. It’s the only path to survival."
"You've been feeding innocent families to that thing!" I couldn't keep the disgust from my voice.
"I've been ensuring my family's survival," he corrected sharply. "When the Collector returns to full power, those who served it will be rewarded. Those who opposed it will become fuel."
He gestured to the monitors showing Willowberry. Inhuman figures prowled around the perimeter. "It already knows about your plantation, your wards, and your guests. You've made our job easier by gathering them in one place. Cuts down on the manpower needed to hunt them down."
"You've been manipulating everything to get the bloodlines together," Lia guessed with a scowl.
"Brilliant, isn't it?" His smile widened. "Cyran's good intentions, your protective instincts—all serve the Collector's ultimate purpose. There will be a harvest using the combined life force of every remaining Guardian to shatter the binding once and for all."
"And you think it'll spare you after that?" Kaitlyn demanded. "You think a creature like that will let you live because it’s grateful?"
"Especially one that's been imprisoned for over a century," Kaveh added as flames danced around his fingertips. "Entities like that don't feel gratitude—they feel rage."
Uncertainty flickered across Michel's features before fanatic determination replaced it. "The Drake family has served faithfully for generations. We've earned our place in the new order."
