“If everything goes perfectly,” Viktor countered. “Which it never does.”
“Then we adapt.” Ant squeezed his wrist once before releasing him. “It’s only a few more minutes and one more task.”
Viktor wanted to argue. Gods, he wanted to argue so badly. Every protective instinct he had demanded that he carry Ant away from this nightmare estate and never look back. But his mate was right. Without physical evidence, Claudius’s lawyers would tear apart the case. They’d claim magical interference, argue the scene reading was unreliable, maybe even suggest Ant had fabricated the vision out of bias against vampires, or some other fucking shit, leaving Claudius free to leave the court and rebuild his fucked-up idea of an empire all over again.
Fuck.
“Four minutes,” Viktor said flatly. “We’re in and out in four minutes. Any longer and we bail, evidence or not.”
Relief flickered through their bond before Ant’s expression smoothed back into cool professionalism. “Agreed.”
Viktor glanced at the manor. They’d have to move fast. Some of the younger guards were starting to stir, and Claudius’s eyes were tracking their conversation now, rage building beneath the disorientation.
“Stay close to me,” Viktor ordered, already running through the fastest route to Claudius’s study in his head. “And I meanclose, Ant. If anything feels off…”
“I’ll tell you immediately.” Ant bent to speak to Able, running his fingers through the dog’s fur. “Guard. Protect.”
Able barked once and planted himself more firmly between the restrained vampires and freedom.
Viktor extended his hand. Ant took it without hesitation, and Viktor felt the absolute trust radiating through their bond. His mate believed they’d succeed because Viktor wouldn’t let him down.
I’d better not fuck this up, then.
“Let’s go rob a vampire,” Viktor muttered.
They moved quickly across the garden toward the manor’s entrance. Behind them, Claudius made a sound - fury and desperation mixed together - but Able growled, and the vampire went still again.
Viktor kicked open the already-damaged front doors. Glass crunched under their feet as they entered the main hall. The ward collapse had done serious damage inside as well. Some of the portraits hung crooked, chandeliers swayed dangerously overhead, and several pieces of antique furniture had toppled over.
“The study is in the west wing on the second floor,” Viktor said, pulling Ant toward the grand staircase. “Claudius’s private rooms. No one goes there without permission.”
“It helps that you remember the layout.” Ant kept pace beside him, despite his exhaustion.
“Yeah, well.” Viktor took the stairs three at a time, keeping his grip on Ant’s hand. “I lived here for long enough, and I did do a spot of snooping when we first arrived, remember. But the wards around the safe were too strong then.”
They reached the second-floor landing. The west wing corridor stretched ahead, lined with closed doors. Viktor’s memory supplied the layout - guest rooms to the left that were barely ever used, donor quarters to the right where Claudius’s flavors of the week were held, and at the very end…
Claudius’s study. The door was heavy oak reinforced with iron, probably warded to hell and back under normal circumstances. But the ward collapse had stripped away the magical protections, leaving it vulnerable.
Viktor smiled grimly. “Time to see what he’s been hiding.”
“Three minutes, forty seconds remaining,” Ant said calmly.
Viktor released Ant’s hand, stepped back, and kicked the door with enough force to splinter the wood around the lock. The door crashed inward, revealing Claudius’s private sanctuary.
The study was as pretentious as Viktor remembered, but he ignored the décor and his attention went straight to the back wall, where a painting of some long-dead Raven ancestor hung slightly crooked from the ward collapse.
“Behind the painting,” he said, already moving. “That’s where he kept the safe. I saw it when I did my snooping, and we both saw it when Ronald found it, although it was a wood panel covering it that time. Claudius is probably too damn cocky to change the location now, especially when he didn’t expect you to leave here breathing.” And yes, Viktor was still pissed about that, but according to his mate, they had a job to do.
Ant followed, eyes scanning the room. “Any secondary defenses we should anticipate?”
“Not anymore. You blew them all to hell.” Viktor grabbed the painting’s frame and pulled it aside, revealing a wall safe built directly into the stone. It was older than the manor itself - heavy iron with an intricate locking mechanism and faint runes carved around the edges. “Magical lock. Can you open it?”
Ant studied the safe, head tilted. “Yes. Though it will require more precision than force. I don’t want to damage the contents.”
“How long?”
“A minute, maybe two.”
