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Sharpe beams with pride. “I moved a couch from one room to another without being able to see it.”
“Baby steps.” She grimaces, flashing sharp canines. “Just remember that the distance between locations doesn’t matter. You simply need to fold the two spaces together.”
Sharpe’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“Exactly what I said. Good luck.” She spins on her heel and strides toward a waiting news van, leaving us with more questions than answers.
I turn to Sharpe. “Is she always that cryptic?”
“That was actually more forthcoming than usual.” He gestures for us to walk back up the stairs. “Come on, we still have work to do.”
I sigh with relief as we reach the shaded overhang, giving us some respite from the sun.
While we wait for Julian, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to find Meredith’s name flashing on the screen.
Frowning, I lift it to my ear, and Sharpe leans in to listen. “Hey, Meredith. Sharpe is here with me. What do you have for us?”
“I know, I just watched the press conference. You’re looking good in that suit, Sharpe.”
He loosens his tie. “Thanks, Meredith.”
“So, I’ve been running the site of the sacrifices through my programs, and I tried removing Bailey and Lynch from the equation just to see what would happen.” Tension fills her voice. “I’m not sure if it means anything, but I found a pattern.”
My spine stiffens. “Go on.”
“If you connect the lines based on the compass points, the locations create a star,” she explains. “It’s farfetched, since it leaves no room for Pride or Sloth, but I thought I’d let you know, anyway.”
“Send a picture to my phone,” I tell her, exchanging a glance with Sharpe.
“Will do.” A flutter of keys sounds from her end. “I’ll keep you updated if I discover something else.”
We disconnect, and a moment later, a buzz alerts me to an incoming message.
I click on the image link, and the map of our murder board appears, with a tilted pentagram overlaid on top. The points aren’t equal in length, but it’s recognizable as a star.
Unease twists in my stomach as I zoom in on the forested space in the center of the design.
My heart drops. “Dammit.”
Sharpe grips my hand to angle the screen for a better look. “Isn’t that where the safe house and the Conservatory are located?”
“Yeah.” We chose the cabin at random after Judge Collins died, but this can’t be a coincidence.
Had the Wild Hunt somehow been able to predict where we would stash Lynch and Bailey? And have no more black dogs attacked because their sacrifices are already in position for the kill?
“We have to warn Darius.” My fingers tremble as I dial his number, and I silently pray that he’ll pick up, that he’ll tell me everything’s fine, but after five rings, I get shuffled to voicemail.
I hang up and try again with the same result.
Next, I call Flint, then stab the end button when that, too, goes to voicemail.
Whatever’s going to happen, our people are in the center of it, and we can’t reach them.
a promise to burn
- Darius -
Lynch blows out a long breath as he shuts the laptop. “Well, it’s done.”
