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“I’m not leaving you alone with him.” Rook moved closer, his hand settling on Ethan’s lower back.

“Let’s just get this over with. I call dibs on eating him when you’re done. His endless complaints and entitled rantings have gone on long enough.” Thorn opened the door and stood to one side as Ethan, closely followed by Rook, went inside. The cell wasn’t large - maybe ten by twelve feet.

Pope sat on a metal bench bolted to the concrete floor, his silver hair was disheveled, and his suit definitely looked as though he’d had a rough night. But that might have been from the capture the day before. Ethan noticed that his hands were bound with what looked like ordinary zip ties, although there seemed to be a shimmer of warding along the plastic.

Pope’s gaze locked on Ethan immediately, then dropped to the shadow marks visible above Ethan’s collar. His smile resembled that of a tiger who’d just been let into a butcher’s shop.

“You’re flaunting your bonds to the monsters today. I’m sure you’re aware that makes you quite the prize, Mr. Park.”

Ethan pulled the single chair closer to the glass and sat down, while Rook remained standing behind him, his shadows coiling visibly in the air. Ethan pulled a notebook from his pocket and opened it to a fresh page, tapping it with his pen.

“My bond is no concern of yours. Let’s discuss Ashford’s business activities.”

Pope’s smile widened. “Direct. I appreciate that.” He leaned back against the concrete wall. “What exactly do you want to know?”

“Start with the tracking sigils. You placed seventeen, according to your documentation. I want to know the locations of those people and what made them targets.”

“Ah.” Pope’s fingers drummed against his knee despite the restraints. “Well, we weren’t just focused on the Garrison Theater, if that’s what you’re wondering. I believe the current crop are spread over four venues in total - the Garrison, the Madison Opera House, the Rowan Street Playhouse, and that delightful little restaurant on King Street. The French one.”

The term “current crop” was more disconcerting than it should’ve been - Fiona had been part of that, and in theory so had Ethan. Pushing the personal ramifications out of his mind, Ethan wrote quickly. “Victim profiles?”

“Eleven theater staff across the three venues. Four restaurant workers. Two workers from the Historical Society.” Pope watched Ethan’s pen move across the page. “They were all chosen for various reasons – you could say they had a variety of skills. All of them were clearly educated, presentable, and capable of following complex instructions. That kind of inventory sells well, which is why you were targeted even before we knew of your” - Pope waved his fingers at Rook - “monster affiliation.”

Rook’s shadows lashed out, stopping just short of the glass, and his growl definitely wasn’t human. Ethan didn’t look up from his notes. He could tell Pope was deliberately trying to provoke Rook, although he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps Pope thought he could escape if the glass barrier was broken, or perhaps he wanted to see if Rook could break it. Anything was possible in a madman.

“You’re describing human beings as merchandise, which, as I’m sure you can appreciate, doesn’t paint you in a good light.” Ethan worked on keeping his voice calm.

“There’s nothing good or bad about it. You’re asking questions, and I’m answering them. Targets were chosen for their various attributes - just like a person might choose apples from a barrel at a grocery store. It’s a business model that operated successfully for six years before your guardian decided to play hero outside a theater.” Pope’s tone remained conversational. “Although I suppose I should thank him. The bond makes you considerably more valuable than you were as intelligent eye candy.”

“I’m not as worried about that as you seem to think I should be,” Ethan said. “If we could focus. There are three other holding facilities. Where are they?”

Pope studied him for a long moment, and Ethan refused to flinch or look away. “You’re remarkably calm for someone who was two inches from death yesterday.”

“And you’re remarkably talkative for someone in a warded cell with one Eldritch guardian standing four feet away from you and three more within shouting distance. I’m not sure when they fed last, but evil people are their favorite type of snack. Locations, please.”

“They’re all in Wisconsin. A warehouse in Kenosha, in the industrial district near the lake. Another in Milwaukee - a converted brewery on the north side.” Pope paused. “The third one is in Green Bay - what Ashford called ‘Epsilon’ in his documentation. It’s an old shipping facility, and by all accounts, it’s very private.”

Ethan recorded the information, then tapped his pen against the page. “I don’t imagine you’re telling me this out of the goodness of your heart. What did you expect in exchange?”

“Now we’re getting to the nuts and bolts. I always knew you were a smart boy.” Pope leaned forward as much as his restraints allowed. “I want immunity, of course. Full cooperation in exchange for witness protection and no jail time.”

Behind Ethan, Rook made that sound that let anyone within hearing range know that he really wasn’t human. As Ethan had mentally winced at the term “boy” - yes, there were still some things unresolved from his previous relationship - he could understand Rook’s anger.

Looking up from his notebook, Ethan met Pope’s gaze through the glass. “You trafficked countless people, developed weapons specifically designed to harm supernatural protectors, and tried to kill me twice in one day - once with a ceremonial dagger, once by proxy through guards with automatic weapons.

“I’m not qualified to negotiate immunity deals, but I’d like to think you’ll live long enough to face human justice. Or not. If one of the guardians is hungry, it doesn’t bother me one way or the other if you get out of here or not.”

“We could draw straws for him, but Thorn’s already called dibs.” Rook didn’t sound as though he was joking, and while Ethan hadn’t known his new friends long enough to know if they did draw straws for human snacks, he could picture a scene just like that.

Pope’s expression tightened. “You need what I know.”

“Do we?” Ethan flipped back several pages in his notebook. “Grant Voss is also in our custody. Ashford’s property records are already in Silas’s database. Your client list was photographed before you regained consciousness. What exactly do you offer that we can’t obtain elsewhere?”

“I’ll guarantee you didn’t know Ashford has a failsafe.” Pope’s fingers stopped drumming. “If he’s arrested - if he even suspects he’s compromised - a dead man’s switch releases all my research to supernatural black markets worldwide. Every binding sigil, every suppression ward, every piece of technology we developed would be shared, meaning every guardian globally would be at risk within weeks.”

Rook’s shadows stilled, and even Ethan held his breath for a moment. That would be…not good.

“Elaborate,” Ethan said, keeping as much expression out of his voice as possible.