Page 117 of Villainous Rise

It wasn’t a question, but Havoc nodded anyway. “Someone’s covering their tracks well. The Alliance tech team found nothing, no evidence of hacking, no physical tampering. But these systems don’t just fail simultaneously.”

“And the ‘natural causes’?” Wraith asked.

“Too many, too fast, and too similar to be coincidental,” Havoc replied. “The medical examiner found nothing suspicious.”

“But your instincts tell you otherwise,” Wraith finished for him.

“Yes,” Havoc admitted. “Something connects these deaths. I need someone who can see patterns our people might miss. Someone who understands both the technology and the people who might want to exploit it.”

“What you’re suggesting sounds like it would deal with remote tampering and would require extraordinary skill,” Wraith said.

“Which is why I’m talking to you,” Havoc replied evenly.

Wraith cocked his head. “And why should I help you with this? What’s in it for me?”

I felt my eyebrows rise. Now I understood why Havoc had called him insufferable.

“People are dying,” I said before I could stop myself.

The shadow seemed to turn toward me, though it was impossible to be certain. “Ah, she speaks. And you are?”

“Annie Bishop,” I replied, meeting the featureless silhouette with a level gaze. “Havoc’s Keeper.”

“Bishop,” the distorted voice repeated. The way he said my name sent a wave of prickling down my spine.

Havoc tensed beside me as Wraith’s attention lingered on me.

“Let’s stay focused, Wraith,” Havoc said. “I’ll pay your usual fees for information. Double if you can deliver within forty-eight hours.”

The shadow on the screen shifted, and I realized they’d given a dismissive shrug.

“Money,” the modulated voice sighed. “Always everyone’s first solution.”

Havoc’s expression darkened. His fingers curled into a fist against the desk, and for a split second, I caught the faintest shimmer of chaos energy dancing between his knuckles.

“You want what you asked for last time?” Havoc asked, his voice unnervingly calm despite the storm brewing in his eyes.

What the hell kind of payment was worth that look?

“Yes. My price for you hasn’t changed.”

Havoc paced away from the screen and I took an involuntary step back from him.

“How interesting,” Wraith mused, the distortion in his voice doing nothing to hide his amusement. “Is your problem not important enough to ask for my help now knowing the cost?”

Havoc took a slow, deliberate breath. I could see the effort it took for him to maintain his composure.

“It is that important,” he said finally. “It’s worth the cost.”

The silence that followed felt weighted, as if Wraith was assessing the sincerity of Havoc’s response. I shifted uncomfortably, feeling like we were being toyed with while people’s lives hung in the balance.

“And what about you, Annie Bishop?” Wraith suddenly asked, the shadow turning toward me again. “Is it important to you?”

The question caught me off guard. Why did it matter what I thought?

“I don’t know the cost,” I said, slowly. “But, yes. Figuring out who’s behind these deaths is important to me. There are people who are still in danger. People who need to be saved.”

The shadow figure seemed to study me, though without being able to see his face, I could only guess at his expression. The silence stretched uncomfortably.