Page 9 of Let Sleeping Vampires Lie

“Auction starts in two days. Could be sooner if the seller accepts a private offer.”

Two days. Not much time. Barely enough to prepare, especially with internal clan politics spiraling and Valerian looming like a storm cloud.

Con’s jaw tightened. “And Julian, you’re certain this piece is authentic?”

“Positive.”

I exhaled, forcing my thoughts to remain steady. Another unknown player in the game was the last thing we needed, but the opportunity was too important to ignore.

“Can you keep tracking the signal?” I asked.

Julian nodded, fingers already flying across the keyboard. “I’ll narrow it down. If they slip up, even for a second, I’ll catch the location. And if they don’t, I’ll find another way in.”

Con rested a hand on the back of Julian’s chair. “Good work.”

Julian flushed, pride flickering across his features. “I’ll send you updates every hour.”

I met his eyes. “This might be the break we need.”

Julian smiled, the kind that came more easily now that he wasn’t struggling just to breathe. “Then I’ll make damn sure we don’t lose it.”

The weight of the clan’s unrest, Siris’ scheming, and Valerian’s threat lingered at the back of my mind, but for a moment, I let myself feel the spark of something else.

Momentum.

A lead.

A chance to get ahead before our enemies made their next move.

Con shifted beside me. “Let’s prepare. We’ll need a plan before the others catch wind of this.”

I nodded, looking once more at the artifact on Julian’s screen. Another piece of a dangerous whole.

And one step closer to whatever game Valerian intended to play.

The image on Julian’s laptop lingered in my mind as we left the conference room. Another piece. Another clue. Another step toward ending this nightmare.

But one thought kept circling back like a persistent shadow.

“Dimitri might know the name of the broker,” I said as we walked down the hallway.

Con let out a low grunt. “Probably.”

The word carried resignation rather than agreement. He hated needing Dimitri. I didn’t blame him. But we were running out of clean resources, and Dimitri had spent decades in the filth of the underground market. If anyone recognized the trail, it would be him.

The walk to the basement felt longer than usual. Maybe it was the weight of the new lead, or maybe it was the knowledge that we were about to rely on the one man whose entire existence revolved around making our lives hell.

The air grew colder as we moved down the stone corridor, Con leading the way with silent focus. The overhead lights flickered, casting quick flashes of shadow over the concrete walls. By the time we reached the reinforced door to the holding cells, I could already feel Dimitri’s smugness radiating through the metal.

Con unlocked the door, and it creaked open with the kind of groan that matched my mood.

Inside, Dimitri sat on his cot like a king on a ruined throne. His dark suit was wrinkled, hair mussed, tie crooked. Despite his disheveled state, he straightened when he saw us, his grin forming before I even reached the bars.

“Well,” he said, voice bright with amusement. “If this isn’t the highlight of my evening.”

“Save it,” I replied. “We need information.”

“Oh?” He leaned forward, clasping his hands. “Then by all means, ask. I live to serve.”