Page 293 of What We Burn

“Welcome to the Hangmen.” He extends his hand. She takes it. One shake—firm, brief, the handshake of equals.

Milo starts a slow clap. Eli shoots him a look. Milo claps louder. Micah joins in because Micah can never resist Milo’s momentum, and then Holden is shaking his head, but the corner of his mouth is up, and I⁠—

I don’t clap. I’m not a clapper.

But I catch Fury’s eye across the room, and the smile she gives me has me lifting my chin toward her.

She apparently interprets that as my version of applause, because she beams at me.

Odin lets the moment breathe before speaking. “Now. While I have all six of you here—I want to discuss capacity.”

This is new.

“You’ve been operating as a single unit, five operators, one target at a time. That works. It’s safe. But the static material Fenrir preserved before the failsafe wiped the devices makes one thing clear: the local yard wasn’t isolated.”

“How big are we talking?” Eli asks, crossing his arms.

“Bigger than we thought. The accounts we identified were part of a regional cell. What survived points to thousands more operating through the same structure. The live routes are gone, but the wider Kennel isn’t. After Milo’s . . . invitation, the local cell went quiet. We have no way of knowing exactly what’s going on until they start up again and we follow the noise.” Odin pauses, then shakes his head. “In the meantime, my existing referral backlog is growing. I have names stacking up faster than my teams can process them, and every week a name sits on that list is another week someone is being hurt.”

The room stills. I can feel the shift—from celebration to calculation.

“With six of you,” Odin continues, “there’s an opportunity to split into two teams of three. Work through the list faster. Two operations running parallel instead of sequential.” He looks at Eli. “You’d coordinate both. Assign based on skill set and target profile.”

“Two teams,” Eli says slowly. He’s already running scenarios—I can see it in the way his eyes unfocus, his brain sorting personnel like chess pieces. “That would double our throughput.”

“It would also double our exposure,” I point out, because someone needs to.

“Which is why I’m raising it here, not issuing a directive.” Odin spreads his hands. “Think about it. Discuss it. Bring me a proposal at next Tuesday’s meeting with team compositions and operational protocols. No rush. But the list isn’t getting shorter. And once the Kennel pops up again, there’ll be even more.”

Fury speaks up. “Who decides the teams?”

“Eli proposes. I approve,” Odin says. “But input from the team matters. You’ll work better with people you trust in the field.”

She nods. I watch her brain working. She’s thinking about pairings. Strengths. Who complements who. She’s been a Hangman for ninety seconds and she’s already optimizing.

“We’ll discuss further next week.” Odin closes the folio. “Anything else?”

“The threat against Sage,” Holden says, opening his own folder. “Has your team learned anything more?”

Odin gives a long, exhaling nod, as if Holden’s question was a chess move he anticipated. “Nothing has moved in six weeks. No messages from Brock’s number. No local profiles have resurfaced. Nobody has made another approach.”

“Say it’s not the number that goes quiet,” Holden cuts in. “Say it’s him. A new phone, a new name, a face-to-face. What’s monitoring that?”

“Nothing,” Odin says, without apology. “Nothing can.”

“Can you confirm Stephen was one of the dead men?” Eli asks.

“No. We still can’t identify every man or connect each one to a Kennel handle.” Odin looks at Fury. “My assessment is that the immediate threat has receded. We can’t guarantee it’s vanished. Ease the restrictions, but keep some form of surveillance going.” He looks at me. “Knox. Can you handle that?”

“She has a tracker embedded inside her choker,” I say, nodding to where Fury is sitting with the cameo around her neck. “I say we keep it active until we’re certain. Baseline precaution.”

“Agreed,” Odin says.

“That’s reasonable,” Fury says, reaching up and lightly touching it. “I’ve worn it so long now, I think I’d feel strange without it.” Her eyes drift to Eli’s and I see the flash of heat in them. I imagine he’s doing the same as me right now—imagining her the one night she wasn’t wearing it.

She looked so fucking gorgeous with that collar around her neck.

I shift my weight where I stand by the door and drag my attention back to the room before it settles too long on what that collar looks like on her when she’s disobedient.