Elias sat at the table, hair damp from a quick wash, a cup in his hands and yesterday’s map folded neatly beside him. Bishop was sitting beside him, drinking a cup of tea. Griff layon his back by the hearth, one arm over his eyes, not asleep but not moving either. Nox was gone, which meant he was either on the roof or in the back alley listening to the neighborhood. Eamon sat by the hearth with his bag open, but for once he wasn’t checking his supplies.
“You’re awake,” Elias said quietly.
“Apparently.” My voice came out rougher than I liked.
Nox slipped back through the door then, closing it behind him with his usual casual care. “Street’s busy this morning,” he said. “The rumors have started. People are beginning to talk about a group of missing men. Politicians whose schedules have suddenly cleared. A scientist overdue from an inspection. There’s talk of a ‘technical incident’ at one of the lower facilities, but nothing official.”
A knock came at the door in a recognizable cadence that told me it was one of Mirae’s people.
Nox stepped over and opened it halfway.
Immediately, it seemed like the world turned a bit brighter.
Zara came in first. Her hair was braided back, coat unbuttoned, eyes bright despite the shadows under them. Sera followed, shoulders squared, expression as hopeful and tired as I felt. Behind them, their wolves filed in, and with them came others, faces I didn’t know at first, then recognized from descriptions and old records.
“Hope we’re not late,” Zara said.
“You’re right on time,” I replied.
We met in the middle of the room. She pulled me into a quick, hard hug that smelled like sea air and woodsmoke,then let go before either of us could get sentimental about it. Sera’s embrace was shorter but just as real.
“You alright?” she asked into my shoulder.
“I’ve been better,” I said. “You?”
“About the same.”
We both stepped back, gave each other a fast visual check. Neither of them had any obvious injuries, which made me sigh in relief.
Behind them, the rescued wolves clustered near the wall, eyes taking in the room. One of them, a woman in her forties with iron-gray hair pinned up in a style that belonged to better days, held herself ramrod straight despite the faint tremor in her hands.
I knew her name. It was Lady Faera Fairburne. Once the wife of a prominent shipping merchant, publicly shamed when her wolf nature manifested and shipped off to Ireland as a ‘danger to society.’
Another was a broad-shouldered man with a crooked nose and a grin that kept trying to show up despite the circumstances.
“Jonah Pike,” Zara said quietly, catching my glance. “Used to run the eastern docks. Knows everyone. Complains constantly.”
“I’m a delight,” Jonah said. His accent was pure English, roughened by time away. “You lot have terrible tea, by the way.”
A third was thinner, with ink-stained fingers and nervous eyes that darted from face to face.
“Lionel Ashby,” Sera supplied. “Clerk. Knows where the bodies are buried on paper, at least.”
Lionel gave a jerky little wave. “Not literally,” he said quickly. “Not… most of them, anyway.”
“How are they?” I asked Zara.
“They’ve all been stabilized, but it was a bit touch and go there for a moment,” she said. “The serum works. They’re still a bit jumpy though. Still tired. But they’re here, safe and mostly sound.”
Sera pulled a small canvas bag from her coat and set it on the table with a soft clink. “And we brought these.”
Elias untied the top and peered inside. Small glass vials glinted in the lamplight, each one stoppered and labeled in a careful hand.
“We brought more of the healing serum,” Sera offered. Eamon was already moving closer. His fingers brushed one of the vials, a look of profound relief and excitement on his face. “This is… more than I expected, more than I could have hoped for.”
Sera shrugged. “I wanted to be prepared for anything.”
Zara nodded. “And for people not believing us.”
