Helen waves from a corner booth, her dark hair tucked neatly behind her ears and a warm, genuine smile on her face.
I slide into the seat across from her, and Octavian doesn't follow me to the table. Instead, he takes a seat at another table a few feet away, his back to the wall, his eyes scanning the room like everyone is a potential threat.
No more standing outside, I guess.
Helen leans forward, her manicured nails tapping against the table. "Keira, it's so good to see you. I was thrilled when you reached out. Always love to chat with our fearless leader."
I laugh. "I don't know about fearless, but I'm glad you could meet," I say, keeping my tone light and friendly. "I've been meaning to connect with more of the Trust's team, especially now after everything that's happened."
"Of course, sweetheart," she says, reaching across the table and patting my hand. "The explosion was horrible. I can't believe it. I was so relieved most everyone survived. How are you doing? You look great."
I smile, and a waiter comes over and slides a cappuccino in front of me and an americano in front of Helen.
"Oh, I don’t think that's hers," Helen says to the waiter and then looks at me, "I didn't order you anything because I wasn't sure.”
“This was ordered by him,” the waiter says and nods toward Octavian.
"Oh, he’s with me. This is perfect. Thank you," I say, and the waiter leaves.
I take a sip, and we start talking lightly at first. The usual stuff: fundraiser logistics, donor thank-you emails, small talk about the Trust's current campaigns. She mentions a few new grant applications, some expansion projects, a partnership with a local clinic in Boston. All routine.
Then I steer the conversation where I want it to go.
"That all sounds so amazing. You know, the more we do, the more I feel like I lose some connections with our partners," I say and take another sip of my drink. "Do you ever work with Shadowharbor directly?" I ask, tilting my head like it's casual curiosity.
"All the time," she says without hesitation. "They're the backbone of our outreach program, among other things. Funding comes from them, mostly. They do all types of projects."
I nod. "Oh really, like what?"
"Oh, God, all sorts. Shadowharbor seems to fund everything. Clinics, gyms, schools, and lately, political reform campaigns. Trying to push out some of the older voices, I think. Make room for new leadership here. I don't know if that's good or bad," she stops and takes a sip of her coffee, "but they're very invested inthe community. Honestly, I think they do more for Boston than the city itself sometimes."
"That's impressive," I say, leaning back casually. "I heard something recently, though. Someone mentioned they also fund something called Morrígan or something like that. Ring a bell?"
Helen's eyes flick upward, just for a second.
"A little. Once or twice, really," she says carefully. "Some of their reps have these unusual ideas. Fringe types. They think Boston was stolen, and that everyone running it is illegitimate or imposters. I think that's why they started funding these campaigns."
I keep my face neutral, even though my pulse kicks up. "What?" I say and force a sarcastic laugh.
She shrugs. "I know. There are just a few that openly say that, though. I don't know much more. I'm not really into talking politics, so I don't engage with it. They sensed it, and that was that."
"Yeah." I nod like it's nothing, but my mind is racing. The Morrígan Order. The black feathers. Warehouse attacks. Declan. Bridget's body. The reason I have a six-foot-six enforcer a few tables away.
"And Shadowharbor tolerates that? People being so open with their views like that?"
She shrugs again. "They tolerate a lot if the money's flowing. Some of these people are executives, some are low level. I guess if they just talk about it among other believers, it never becomes an issue."
I nod again, taking a sip of coffee. "Well, so interesting for such a large company."
She laughs. "You know, on the topic of them, something I think is interesting happened about two or three weeks ago," she says.
I pause. "Oh? What was it?"
"Well, I was paying one of their routine invoices, and the business name at the top wasn't Shadowharbor. It said Skyjester LLC."
My brows shoot up. "Skyjester?"
"Yes, and when I called to tell them, they were frantic. Like I'd said a word I wasn't supposed to see. They said it was a mistake. I told them not to worry, but they were adamant I shred it and they'd send me a new invoice."
