Johnny lingers, gives me a faint, almost apologetic smile. "See you."
I manage a nod. The images from the file burn behind my eyes. She's not wrong. Not entirely. And Kayden is no saint either. He has his own file and trail of bodies.
I glance at him now, framed in the doorway. Rigid, watching me with concern.Mine.
She's not wrong, but I'm not wrong either. Maybe that's the problem at the heart of all this.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Asher
Harlan makes me wait in one of his back offices. A petty power move, and we both know it. My mood sours. The longer I'm away from Sage, and especially from Kayden, the more likely something will spiral.
Finally, the door opens. The mayor strides in. Suit pressed, tie neat, self-importance radiating like cheap cologne. He doesn't sit. Neither do I.
I stay in the far corner, hands clasped behind my back, stance standard and controlled.
"What is it, Darrow?" he says briskly, shutting the door. "I don't have time for this. Important things are happening."
You don't say.
I hold his gaze in silence. The weight of it stretches the moment until his impatience shifts to discomfort.
At last I speak. "So I've heard. Meeting with Darius Hawthorn himself?"
If he's surprised, he buries it deep. "Yes. Mr. Hawthorn has proposed a significant investment in this town, and my schedule is full because of it. So, please, be quick."
Thepleaseis all polish, no sincerity. I let it slide.
"Darius isn't here to help this town. He's here for someone important to me. Everything he's promising is leverage. A strategy for control."
Harlan frowns, lips tightening. "You want me to believe that a well-respected billionaire would throw millions around just to—what? Steal away someone you care about?"
"Darius Hawthorn is one of us," I say calmly. "Not human."
That makes him pause. He forces a laugh. "Mr. Hawthorn is a businessman, widely known—"
"And an ancient satyr," I cut in. "Both can coexist."
He scoffs, derisive. "Right. What's next—the whole cast ofMidsummer Night's Dreamhiding in my county?"
Closer to the truth than he realizes. I don't bite.
He exhales hard through his nose, frustration flaring. "Look, Darrow. I've tolerated your little enclave in this town because I owe you for Donna. But if you think that gives you a say in how I run this place, you're mistaken."
I take two measured steps closer. No words. Just presence. It presses on him like a weight. His bravado falters. He shifts back a half-step without realizing, throat working.
When he speaks again, his tone is different. Quieter. "I… I won't pretend I understand everything going on. But you need to understand me too. If I turn Hawthorn away, he'll take this project elsewhere. This is an opportunity for the people here. For the whole county. Do you want me to be the one who denies them that?"
I clench my jaw, steady. "No. But he won't take the project elsewhere. Because this isn't about the town. It's about the person he's hunting."
I can see him filing it away, expression thoughtful. He'll use it for leverage, no doubt. Typical politician.
"We're signing in two days at a public event," he says. "It's already in motion. I can't back out now. What do I tell mypeople? That a vampire warned me this billionaire businessman is actually an ancient satyr with ulterior motives? Even if he is—Hawthorn's investments are real. The track record is real. The money is real. You want me to throw that away because you've got an axe to grind with him? I can't."
The last words aren't defiant. They're pleading.
"He doesn't care about this town or you," I say evenly. "He'll twist this into whatever he wants."
