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Carrick, clearly a professional at surviving MacAllen nonsense, ignored both of them. “I’m searching for anything connecting Fogarty’s organization to Keevandrie’s work beyond the shipping mark. Do not assume more than we know.”

Bernie nodded. “Agreed.”

I lifted both hands. “Nobody is assuming. We’re aggressively side-eyeing.”

“That,” Bernie said dryly. “Is not a recognized investigative category.”

“It should be.”

Knox didn’t say anything. He was looking at Guy, really looking at him, and I could practically see the pieces moving behind those gorgeous, haunted eyes.

I looked from Guy to Knox. Then to the Hellmark on Knox’s forearm. Then out the kitchen window, where the Arrhythmia Wards shimmered faintly beyond the glass like purple geometry trying very hard to mind its own murderous business.

My artist brain shifted. Not the bartender brain. Not the musician brain. Not the obvious-question brain. The artist brain.

The part of me that did not look at the thing everyone else was looking at. The part that looked at the edge of the canvas. Negative space. Repetition. Echoes. Lines that didn’t belong until you turned the whole image sideways.

Oh, fuck.

“Guy,” I said quietly.

Every head turned toward me.

“When Fogarty put you here, were you already connected to the Wards?”

Guy frowned. “Not like I am now.”

“Meaning?”

His shoulders tightened. “Meaning they were already built. Fogarty’s Magic and Hell Sorcery were woven into the original structure. But I’ve spent nearly a century feeding my own Dragon Magic into them. Strengthening them. Repairing them. Binding them tighter to the land.” His mouth flattened. “At this point, the barrier recognizes my signature and my blood.”

“Right.” I nodded slowly because my stomach had just started doing gymnastics and I did not appreciate the routine. “So maybe that part wasn’t the original plan.”

Guy’s eyes narrowed. “What part?”

“You becoming a major ingredient.”

His face went perfectly blank.

I hated that, too.

“Fogarty didn’t have to be clairvoyant enough to predict every choice you made for a hundred years,” I continued. “You chose to strengthen the Wards. You chose to become part of them.”

Guy said nothing.

“But he still put a Dragon Guardsman inside a Magical containment system built with Hell Sorcery.”

Bernie went still again.

Great. Fabulous. Loved that for us.

Knox exhaled through his nose. “Son of a bitch.”

“Yeah,” Guy said softly.

The symmetry unfolded in the silence.

Knox had been placed at an Infernal gateway as a living anchor. Guy had been placed inside an Infernal containment system. One brother at a door. One brother inside a lock.