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Ethan studied Pope’s photograph. “Where would someone like that hold someone like Voss for interrogation?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Thorn moved to look at the property records. “He owns multiple locations. Downtown penthouse, suburban estate, as well as a block of warehouses in the industrial district.”

“My money is on the renovated church in the historic district.” Silas pulled up the architectural plans. “Pope purchased that place fifteen years ago, and it’s been extensively modified since then to create a living space. The neighbors complain about noise occasionally, but nothing ever comes of the complaints.”

“Because he has political connections,” Ethan finished. “He probably has dirt on half the city council.”

“Including Ashford.” Julian tilted his head. “Which means he had to have known about the trafficking operation.”

Closing his eyes for a moment - Ethan was deathly tired - he tried to visualize the new information as if it were puzzle pieces, putting them together in different configurations until they made a clear picture. When they did, he gasped as his eyes flew open. “Pope doesn’t just want information about Ashford’s network. He wants to take over the entire operation.”

Everyone turned to look at him, which would normally make Ethan cringe, but he kept going.

“Think about it.” Ethan gestured to Silas’s screens. “Ashford runs a trafficking ring using his legitimate business as a cover. He has political protection, established transport routes, and connections to buyers. If we assume Pope has been selling him wards and suppression technology, then he already knows the operation exists and how profitable it is.”

“So why kill the golden goose?” Rook asked.

“Because the guardians were already dismantling Ashford’s network.” Ethan paced, his thoughts racing. “We rescued five victims tonight and found documentation for three more sites. It could be that Ashford’s overextending himself, but losing those victims tonight puts Ashford’s whole operation at risk. Fiona and the others are going to mention Voss’s name, and possibly Ashford’s too. Pope sees all that as an opportunity.”

“To do what?” Thorn’s voice had dropped into a low grumble.

“To remove Ashford, absorb his infrastructure, and use the guardians to eliminate his competition.” Ethan met his eyes. “Pope grabbed Voss before the warehouse raid. He’s likely interrogating him now, getting the names, locations, buyer contacts, and transport routes from someone who will want to save his own skin. But that is the information Pope would need to take over.”

“How does that tie into the tracking sigils?” Cillian asked quietly.

“I think they’re insurance.” Ethan shivered despite Rook’s shadows wrapped around him. “Let’s assume Pope knows that guardians hunt traffickers, among other criminals. If he marks potential victims with his sigils, he will know exactly where the guardians will appear next. He can set traps, deploy wards, and study guardian response patterns. In fact… in fact…” Ethan stopped for a moment, thinking about his next words carefully, but no, they did make sense, so he said them out loud. “Pope’s not just taking over Ashford’s network - he’s weaponizing it against you.”

Silas’s fingers froze on his keyboard. “That’s...disturbingly logical.”

“It also explains why I got sent a tracking sigil even though I’ve said no to Voss’s advances. I think Pope wants me specifically.” Ethan forced himself to say it. “I initially thought Voss marked me for trafficking, because that fit with his pattern of behavior. But if Pope got wind of the fact I was seen with Rook - twice in the same week - then perhaps he saw that as an opportunity. A beacon connected to guardians has more worth than a random bartender to someone like that. He could use me as bait, leverage, or study material for improving his suppression technology.”

Ethan really wasn’t surprised when Rook’s shadows exploded outward again, cracking the concrete floor this time. He noticed that even as they did that, there were still parts of the shadows that held Ethan firmly, as if making sure that he was safe. There was something very intense about the connection, and Ethan wasn’t going to lie. He liked it. He’d just rather have those feelings without the threat of being trafficked or used by morally gray people.

Chapter Thirteen

“We’re going into lockdown protocol.” Thorn’s voice cut through the fractured concrete dust settling around them. “Now.”

The wards activated with a low hum, and shadows from all of the guardians pooled around every entrance and window. It was standard procedure when an attack was imminent, and Rook should’ve felt relief. Ethan was safe inside the reinforced walls, surrounded by four guardians who’d burn the city before letting harm reach him or Julian.

But no, Rook could never assume what his shadows would do, because they sometimes acted as if they had their own intelligence. All they seemed fixated on was burrowing toward Ethan like they could sink beneath skin and bone, and anchor themselves permanently to his soul.

Which was wrong, very wrong, and even as Rook tried to pull them back - which seemed to be a constant battle since he’d first laid eyes on his mate - it was getting worse and he wasn’t the only one who noticed.

“Rook.” Cillian’s hand landed on his shoulder, immediately steering him toward the hallway. “Kitchen. Now.”

“But…” Cillian wasn’t taking no for an answer, and Rook was practically dragged out of the room, only peripherally aware of Silas and Julian already pulling up files on Sebastian Pope’s known associates, property acquisitions, and occult dealings that apparently spanned decades. Ethan seemed happy enough, settled into the chair Julian vacated, leaning forward to examine something on the screen. He was safe… but was he really…? Rook’s shadows strained toward him anyway.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” There was clearly no getting between Cillian and the door, because Cillian was leaning on it, his arms crossed and his shadows making his shoulders seem twice their normal size.

“I’m just…” Rook went to point, but his shadows were trying to slide around Cillian’s feet in their effort to get back to Ethan. “You’re in my way.”

“I’ll be in your fucking face in a minute.” Cillian lifted his booted foot and stamped where Rook’s shadows tried to get past. It didn’t hurt, but Rook still winced. “Don’t you realize your shadows are going to hurt him if you don’t get them under control?”

“I’m trying.” Rook dragged both hands through his hair. “Like, actively really trying.”

“Are you?” Cillian’s black eyes fixed on him. “Because from where I’m standing, you’re about thirty seconds from crawling inside his ribcage.”

“That’s not…” Rook bit off the denial. Never lie to a brother, and Cillian was right - not necessarily about the ribcage aspect, but Rook’s shadows had cracked concrete. Twice. “I don’t know how to stop it.”