There were no words shared between us as he kicked the door in. The wood cracked, splintering as it caved in under the force of his boot.
No sound came from inside the cabin as we entered. The magical signature remained strong, a steady, beating pulse of power from the back of the house, but there was still no sign of soldiers. No dark magic. No remnant they’d ever stepped foot inside.
It made my frown deepen as we walked into the living room. Three old sofas made of leather surrounded a cold fireplace. The space looked untouched, save for the steaming mug of tea on the coffee table between the lounges.
“Kicking down the door was unnecessary,” a gruff voice said from the adjoining room. Kitchen, I assumed, based on the dried herbs hanging from the archway between the spaces. “You’re always welcome, Elias.”
A growl sounded from the wolf, who pointed his gun at the doorway. “You really think I believe you after what you did?”
The bear sighed when he appeared. The male was old, at least a century, hair silver, beard long. He was an unfamiliar face to me, and upon seeing him, I felt for his magic. For any hint that he’d been changed by his time with the enemy.
“You remember?” the old bear asked, coming to a stop before us.
“Yeah.” The wolf rolled his shoulders back. “I remember.Not everything, but enough. Like you holding me and nine other children captive while a pain demon whipped us to shift.”
The older male sighed. “Anything else?”
“I don’t remember how I got out, but I’m sure you do. Only a matter of time before I get those memories back, and you better hope you’re in our custody when it happens and not dead.”
“Well,” I drawled, releasing the twin blades to the shadows, “even if he does die, a spirit can still answer questions. I’m sure there are plenty of death witches who would be more than willing to help.”
The eyes of the bear darkened as he shook his head. “No need for that, or your threats. If you want me to return with you, then I will.”
My eyes narrowed. “And why would you do that?” I asked, stepping forward. The familiar tingle of death danced down my arms as I watched him. It wanted out and to claim another. “We can have a friendly discussion right here.”
“I figured you would want me in a cell. And I’ve got nothing to hide. Not anymore.”
The wolf hesitantly lowered his gun. “And why’s that, Cyrus?”
The bear tapped his temple with a dark smile. “No blocks, not anymore. My glamour is gone.”
“How did you manage that?” I asked, cocking my head.
The bear looked at me, then at the wolf. “I died.”
15
Rowan
Icrossed my arms, taking in the old shifter. I never had the pleasure of meeting him during my time at Phoenix, since he’d already retired from teaching before Adrian and I joined as agents. But we’d heard stories about him; the missions he’d gone on in the mortal world hunting down rabid vamps terrorising humans, or the jobs he’d done in Faery, locating some of the worst mate killers known to our world.
He was a legend at Phoenix.
But he was also a traitor.
I definitely wasn’t going to be able to see him the same way again, knowing what he’d done to Wolfy and the others. How many children had he held captive for Dante? How many had he help torture?
And how the hell could he sit before us without fear? He wasn’t sweating, and he didn’t look like someone who betrayed his Queen, Goddess, and the people who’d looked up to him for years.
Maeve moved to stand in front of him, the smell of copper strong. She hadn’t bothered wiping her hands of Hyperion’s blood before coming here.
“Cyrus, you claim you can tell us everything we need to know.” Maeve cocked her head, something in her stance tellingme she didn’t believe shit. “And you claim you can now do so because you died.”
The bear shifter lifted his chin, but not out of defiance. He didn’t even look defeated. Nothing about him screamedI’m being held hostage, but there was a flicker of shame in his eyes, an air of guilt.
“I can,” he replied gruffly. “And I’m not working for him. Never have.”
I snorted. “Sure.”
