Page 38 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

“Aphaea Carter taught me that. Well...she wasn’t called that then, but that’s how you know her.” She glanced at her watch, then at the sinking sun. “Find me the thieves ransacking my city and burning my buildings, and you have my allegiance.”

“They’ve burned your buildings?”

“The barn, the storage lot, the bank you investigated—all mine. Yes. This is personal. I can’t cross the border without them knowing...you, however.”

“You baited my temper, sending me out with a full escort.”

“You’ve historically worked well alone.”

“Why not start that way?”

“Why not tell me your plans from the beginning?” she countered.

I grinned. “Better to beg forgiveness than permission.”

“Arrogant.”

“Perhaps,” I conceded, smile still in place.

“Blaz is ready. Best you be.”

The commotion erupted suddenly. I grinned before schooling my expression.

“Stick to the shadows.”

I sprinted for the property’s edge just as the sun vanished over the horizon.

EIGHT

UNWELCOME GUEST

CYRUS

The disconcerting monotony of daily tasks hollowed me out as I watched reports roll in from my shadows.

Nobody had shit. Not on our target. Not on The Wraith. Not on gathering another suspect for last week’s attack.

My hunch was unsubstantiated, especially with my mother silencing any further attempts at conversation on the subject. There was no arguing with the Queen of the Paladins. But it was the only lead I had.

The only progress for the day came when my cousin slapped a folder onto my desk—details on the warehouse we were acquiring to rebuild Uptown.

A spark of something hopeful lit up Carr’s dark blue eyes as they met mine when I turned my chair to face him. On the tail end of a yawn, I asked, “What do ya got?”

“Seventeen thousand square feet, finished interior, six bay doors. It’s a start.”

“It’s a start,” I agreed. But it wouldn’t replace it. Nothing could. The history our thief had unknowingly—or knowingly—robbed from us wasn’t something that could be duplicated. I rubbed my palms over my aching cheeks, willing away the exhaustion settling into my bones. Sleep wasn’t a luxury granted to a second-in-line whose security lapse had resulted in such a catastrophic loss. Had anybody else been responsible for the failure, their reception likely wouldn’t have entailed family fucking dinner on Friday night.

Carr cleared his throat. “You alright, Cy?”

“Yeah,” I said, tone clipped.

“Very convincing.”

“Tired. That’s all.”

“Sure,” he said, rotating to lean against my desk as I stretched out in my office chair. “Nothing?”

“She’s a fucking ghost.”