Ash’s voice cuts through the dark humor. “There’s something else.”
Everyone looks at him, but he keeps his eyes on Rook. “We need to assume Damien has more than Syndicate muscle now.”
Rook’s brow ticks. “More… how?”
“He had NATO ID on the table with Syndicate,” Ash says quietly. “That’s not just muscle. That’s infrastructure. That’s access. That’s protection. That’s quiet corridors and diplomatic cover and people who can take a shot and make it disappear in paperwork.”
Saint’s eyes narrow. “So not just street guns.”
“No,” Ash says. “This is bigger. He’s not thinking gang war. He’s thinking extraction. Rendition. Clean snatch, van, sealed room, off-book interrogation. They don’t need to storm the manor to do that if they can peel her off in transit and ghost her in two minutes.”
Everything in me goes still. I know exactly what that means. I’ve done extractions. I’ve watched black-bag teams move. I know how fast a person can vanish without screaming once. I taste fucking metal again. “No,” I say.
My voice comes out low. Final. Ash’s gaze flicks to me, something like understanding moving behind his eyes. He nods. “Agreed. Which means we handle it now. Tonight.”
Rook folds his hands on the table. “Plan.”
Ash doesn’t hesitate. “She doesn’t go anywhere alone. Not to the kitchen. Not to breathe on the balcony. She doesn’t go near a window without eyes. She doesn’t answer a door I didn’t open. She doesn’t touch a phone I didn’t vet. We start running rotating watch shifts, inside, not just perimeter. If she twitches, one of us is already in the hall.”
Saint makes a soft sound. “We’re caging her.”
“Yes,” Ash says. “Because they’re going to try to take her. And if they take her, we don’t get her back.”
Something primal claws at my throat hearing that. “They’re not fucking taking her.”
Ash doesn’t blink. “Then prove me right.”
Vale whistles low. “She’s not going to like this.”
“No,” I say. “She’s not.”
Saint hums softly. “You planning to be the one to tell her she’s on full lockdown?”
“Yes,” I say.
Vale grins. “You volunteering,wolf? You’re either brave or stupid.”
“She’ll listen to him,” Ash says. Then, after a beat, quieter, “She’ll listen to you if you give her respect while you cage her. If you try to handle her, she’ll bite.”
“She can bite me all she wants,” I mutter.
Vale smirks. “We know.”
Rook clears his throat. Vale puts both hands up, innocent. Saint looks like he’s about to bless someone ironically.
Rook focuses on me. “Wraith.”
I straighten. “Yeah.”
“You’re her shadow until I say otherwise,” he says. “You don’t sleep unless she’s asleep and in your arms. You don’t leave a room she’s in unless someone I trust is already there. You don’t take a bullet for her unless you have to — you don’t be a martyr, you be a wall. You understand me?”
My jaw flexes. “I already decided that without asking you.”
Rook’s mouth twitches, just once. A flash of almost-pride. “Good.”
Saint lifts the whiskey, takes a swallow straight from the bottle. “So, to summarize… We’re anchoring in place, we’re circling our queen, we’re prepping international exit, and we’re about to start a holy war.”
“Basically,” Vale says cheerfully.
