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Eira’s shock tears through the bond as Tavish begins to seize. As the gag clamps harder, crushing memory, rupturing thought.

I force myself deeper, ruthless now, reaching beyond the pain, beyond the dying mind, towards the last sealed corridor.

What does Volkov want?

Tavish’s eyes roll back. His mouth opens, and when he speaks, his voice changes. Older. Softer. Ecstatic. ‘Morrighan.’

The name fills the chapel. Eira hears it. As do my sired.

The wards in the forgotten station flicker as if something far below the city has turned over in sleep.

Tavish smiles with blood on his teeth.

Then his mind collapses and he perishes beneath my hand.

I release him and turn to where Eira stands several feet away, one hand at her throat, face pale and furious and devastated. She’s thinking of Tezra, of that vial. Of being a weapon in someone else’s hand.

I cross to her before anyone else moves. Fold her into my arms. ‘Did you hear?’

She nods once, her voice rough when she whispers, ‘Morrighan.’ The name is not safe in her mouth. ‘So this all leads back to her?’

I feel the Glass across the city pulse through my mark as if answering.

Yes. But do not say her name again.

Her gaze lifts to mine and I see fear and defiance burn together there.

Then we need to find out why everyone else is saying it.

Aaron steps forward, all discipline. ‘Sire, the papers.’

Gideon and Rook are already collecting them from the table. Orion examines the ash bowl without touching it. Nikolai stands over Tavish’s body, expression flat.

‘Take everything,’ I say. ‘Burn the rest.’

The chapel burns behind us when we leave.

Vey’s debt-door deposits us back beneath the apothecary, where the warlock looks at my bloodied mouth and decides, wisely, to ask no questions.

‘Your disclosure was useful,’ I tell him.

He bows his head. ‘Then may our bargain hold.’

‘For your sake.’

We leave him breathing.

For now.

By the time we return to the Tower, dawn presses faintly against the eastern edge of the city, still hours away but close enough for every vampire in the building to feel the shape of it.

My chambers have become a war room.

The recovered papers spread across the black table. We examine names, seals, transfers between Briarhook, Chicago, New Orleans, and three offshore accounts tied to shell charities that Kessler once serviced before his death. The courier’s recordings sit beside them, neatly catalogued by Gideon.

Eira stands near the Heartshard Glass, arms folded tight across her chest.

Too tight. I move to her side and she does not look at me at first. And when she does I want to roar at the haunted, devastated look in her eyes. ‘She said the hunter would carry what they need. She meant me.’