And so the Ripper finally came to our side.
Calder leaned back, something like respect flickering across his face. “Split the team. Some to the northern docks, some to the southern. Make it look thorough while actually covering minimal ground.”
“Exactly as instructed.” Wickett glanced at me. “We play his game. Only far better than he expects.”
“The young witch is learning to bend without breaking. Interesting.” The Oracle said, turning toward me after the raven on her shoulder did.
I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a warning.
“We leave at first light,” I said finally. “Pairs. Wickett and I take the northern docks. Calder and Lucette, southern. Pip?—”
“I’m not going anywhere near water that deep,” she said quickly. “I’ll stay here. Keep watch. Make sure nobody’s following when you leave.”
Riot stirred. “The Oracle and I will remain as well. Should you need extraction, signal the griffin and we’ll come.”
How exactly a blind woman and her dragon would extract us from the docks, I wasn’t sure. But I nodded anyway.
“Tomorrow then,” Lucy said, standing. “Try not to get killed before we even start.”
They filed out slowly. Calder paused at the door, catching my eye. A silent question:Are you sure about this?
I nodded once. He left.
Wickett lingered. Our eyes met across the room, and something passed between us. Not words. Understanding, maybe. Or acknowledgment of the impossible position we’d both been forced into. He left without speaking, and I hated the way I stared after him.
I stood in the empty kitchen for a long moment before returning to my own quarters. Inside, I paced. Back and forth across the narrow space while Silas watched from his corner of the bed with those knowing blue eyes.
An idea was brewing. Not because it was smart. Not because it was even remotely possible. But because I was about to do something really fucking reckless.
The Magistrate’s office would be empty soon. The last of his clerks and advisors would leave within the hour, heading home to their comfortable beds and their illusions of safety.
And I was going to break in.
I was going to find out what DEC really meant. What Tiberius Veyne was really preoccupied with while we chased shadows at the docks.
Silas made a low sound, but whether it was warning or disapproval, I couldn’t tell.
“I know,” I whispered. “I know it’s reckless.”
But I was done playing by their rules, done letting the Magistrate control every move.
Chapter 25
Syneca
A lycan who offers you their blade has decided you’re worth protecting. Refuse, and you’ll never see them again. Accept, and you’ll never be alone in battle.
Chancellery House settled into uneasy quiet after midnight, with most of its inhabitants asleep, or pretending to be. I moved through the corridors with Silas at my side, his smaller form padding silently beside me. Once I left the third-floor hall, I castSilentii, weaving the spell around us like a cloak.
The magic responded sluggishly. I’d clearly pushed myself too hard today. But it held, muffling our footsteps as we crept out of the building and into the yard. I’d have been lying if I said I wasn’t terrified. If I’d said Calder hadn’t begged me to change my mind. But sitting stagnant when a countdown clock was ticking just didn’t sit right with me. After we met with the team, Calder and I had met alone.
There was a huge piece of the puzzle we were missing. We might be able to find Vitoria. Might even be able to get us all outof the city. But if we didn’t find a way to break the Venatori blood oath, we still couldn’t escape death. So on top of needing to find Vitoria, mislead the hunt, and keep my identity secret—andnothaving a complete breakdown—I needed to know how to break the damned oath. A task Calder had agreed to start working on while I focused on the hunt.
Crimson died tracing three letters in the air. Whatever it meant, he’d thought it worth his final breath. And I was done waiting for answers. Even if the only thing I could think to do with the tiny clue was a very illegal and dangerous break-in of our government records. This would probably be fine...
The corridor stretched ahead, dimly lit by enchanted lanterns that never needed oil. My own runework, no doubt. Years of my life poured into this building, strengthening its wards, making it impenetrable.
The irony wasn’t lost on me.
