"The usual."
"The usual." I pause at the doorway, looking back at him. He's backlit by the morning sun, beautiful, God-like, with those dark eyes, and my chest twists at the sight. "I'll be back in a few hours."
"And if you're not?"
"Then run. Get to Jace. He'll know what to do. He will keep you safe."
I leave before he can respond.
Edmund’s place is an unsuspecting townhouse in the old city, brick and ivy and money that predates the revolution. Edmund's brother, the Holloway Custodian, lives in the main family estate uptown. This place is Edmund's consolation prize, the home of a second son who was never quite good enough.
It shows in the decor. Everything is slightly too expensive, slightly too polished, the desperate performance of a man trying to prove he belongs.
The butler shows me to the study. Edmund is waiting by the fireplace, whiskey in hand, that practiced smile already in place.
"Jagger. Thank you for coming."
"You didn't give me much choice."
"No, I suppose I didn't." He gestures to a chair. "Please, sit. Drink?"
"I'm fine."
"Suit yourself." He settles into the chair across from me, crossing one leg over the other with deliberate casualness. "Let'sdispense with pretense, shall we? I know you have the Doe asset. I know you've been hiding him from the Ministry. What I don't know is why."
"I told you. Specialized evaluation."
"And I told you I couldn't find documentation. Which means either you're running an unauthorized operation, or you're lying to me." He sips his whiskey. "Neither option reflects well on you."
I let the silence stretch. Edmund is the type who can't stand empty air. He'll fill it eventually.
"Here's what I think," he continues after a moment. "I think you've discovered something in Moore's archive. Something connected to the Doe asset. And I think you're protecting him because whatever he knows is valuable enough to risk your position."
"That's quite a theory."
"It's more than a theory. I've been watching you, Jagger. You've been distracted for weeks. Missing meetings. Delegating tasks you'd normally handle yourself. Something has changed." He leans forward, eyes bright with interest. "I want to know what."
"Why?"
"Because knowledge is power. And I'm very interested in power." He sets down his glass. "I'm also interested in survival. My brother thinks he's untouchable, but the world is changing. Webb is gone. The Harrison seat is in flux. Alliances are shifting. I intend to be on the winning side when the dust settles."
"And you think I can help with that."
"I think you know things. Things about Project Omega. Things about what really happened at Westpoint." His smile turns cold. "Things I could use."
Ahhh, so he knows.
Edmund doesn't care about Jonah specifically. He cares about what Jonah represents: information he can use against his brother, against the other Custodians, against anyone standing between him and power.
He's also, I realize, too connected to be allowed to live.
Edmund knows about the asset. He suspects the Omega connection. If he starts pulling at those threads, he'll unravel everything. Even if I could neutralize his immediate threat, he'd keep digging. Keep scheming. Keep looking for angles to exploit.
There's only one way to guarantee his silence.
"You're right," I say.
Edmund blinks, surprised. "I'm sorry?"
