"The remaining ward signatures match three locations," Seraphina says. "Two in north Georgia. One outside Chattanooga. These are Konstantin's. Not Adrienne's. The architecture is different."
"Different how?"
"Older. More layered. He's had witches building these for decades."
Celeste looks at me. "Three more sites."
"Not tonight."
"No." She turns back to the screen. "But soon."
Marcellus appears in the doorway. His jaw is tight.
"Courier at the gate," he says. "Human. Paid cash."
He holds out the envelope.
Cream-colored. Heavy paper. Sealed with red wax pressed into the shape of a serpent swallowing its own tail.
The conference room goes quiet. Julian's tablet lowers. Seraphina's fingers still. Celeste turns from the screen.
I take the envelope. I break the seal.
Something falls out before the paper.
A photograph. Glossy. Face down on the conference table.
Celeste reaches it before I do. She turns it over.
A hand. Pale. Long-fingered. Resting on dark wood. The angle is composed. The light is chosen. He wants you to see exactly one thing.
Heavy gold on the third finger. A stylized M.
My father's signet ring.
Celeste's fingers go to her throat. She still reaches for it sometimes. She doesn't know she does it.
She sets the photograph on the table. Face up.
I pick up the letter. Heavy paper. Elegant script.
Maximus,
My compliments on the farms. The execution was clean. You and your bonded work well together. I expected nothing less from the investment I made in her.
I trust you've celebrated. I gave you those facilities, old friend. Adrienne's wards were compromised the moment she turned. I could have reinforced them. I chose not to. Every human you walked out of those buildings, I allowed to walk.You freed four hundred people because I decided the cost was acceptable.
What I gained was worth more. Your wolves are on camera. The Hidden Accords are fracturing. And your alliance is spending its resources on a cover story instead of a war.
A thought regarding your Dr. Carson. His purification work is admirable. Crude, but admirable. My people have been refining a version of his design for eleven months. Ours processes at volume. His does not. I mention this not as a threat but as context. The gap between his prototype and mine is the gap between a candle and a furnace. When the lords are ready to choose, and they will choose, I want you to understand what they are comparing.
Carson himself is a remarkable man. Brave. Principled. Fragile. I would hate for anything to happen to him before he sees what his work becomes in the right hands.
Enjoy your evening.
—K
I read it once. I read it again.
