Page 51 of Soulmarked

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Page 51 of Soulmarked

“Really? Never would have guessed.”

Rowan watched our exchange with shrewd assessment. “If you pursue this, you do so independently. Hallow cannot be officially involved.”

“When have I ever needed official sanction?” I asked.

Her smile was cold. “That's precisely what concerns me.” She turned to Cade. “And you, Agent Cross? Are you prepared to face what O'Brien might reveal? Some secrets are kept for good reason.”

“With respect,” Cade replied, “I've been keeping secrets since I was eight. I can handle a few more.”

“Well then,” I said, forcing lightness into my tone, “fancy a road trip to Millbrook? I'll even let you drive.”

“How generous.”

“I'm known for my giving nature.”

But as we headed out, plans were already forming in my mind. Ways to handle O'Brien without exposing Cade tounnecessary risk. Exit strategies if things went south. Because something told me this wasn't just about a rogue Hallow member or corporate conspiracies.

This was bigger. And whatever game Phoenix was playing with ancient symbols and hungry creatures, something told me we were about to step right into the middle of it.

At least the company would be interesting.

Assuming O'Brien didn't get us both killed first.

12

DEAD END LEADS

Millbrook, New York had all the charm of a town that time forgot, and from the looks of things, time had good reasons for the abandonment. Victorian houses loomed like rotting teeth, their paint peeling in strips that reminded me uncomfortably of flayed skin. The few locals we passed hurried by with downturned eyes, as if eye contact might invite conversation or worse.

“Stop fidgeting with the tie,” I muttered, reaching over to adjust Sean's windsor knot for the third time in as many minutes. “You're supposed to be a federal agent, not a teenager at prom.”

“This thing's trying to strangle me,” he growled, Irish accent thicker with irritation. “How the hell do you wear these torture devices every day? Pretty sure there's a hunt for whatever sadist invented these things.”

“Practice.” I smoothed his lapels, definitely not noticing how the tailored suit transformed his usual rough style into something almost civilized. Almost. “Now remember, we're CITD agents following up on suspicious deaths in the area. No mention of monsters, magic, or anything supernatural.”

Sean rolled his eyes, but his posture shifted subtly, shoulders squaring, stance becoming less obviously lethal. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. Play nice with the locals, don't threaten anyone, pretend I give a damn about proper procedure. Just your standard government monkey routine.”

“And no stabbing,” I added firmly.

“You're really taking all the fun out of this, you know that? Next you'll be saying no drinking on the job either.”

We moved down Cedar Street, past houses that probably hadn't seen renovation since the Korean War. The address Hallow had provided was supposed to be around here somewhere.

I watched Sean from the corner of my eye, noting how he automatically checked sightlines and escape routes even in broad daylight. The suit might have changed his appearance, but underneath he was still pure hunter. Every movement calculated, every sense alert for threats.

“So,” he said as we turned onto a particularly decrepit block, “how exactly does this arrangement with Sterling work? He just lets you chase monsters on the government's dime?”

I kept my voice neutral. “It's complicated.”

“Complicated meaning you don't trust me, or complicated meaning you don't actually have permission?” He smirked. “Come on, I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

“Complicated meaning it's none of your business.” But there was no real heat in it. After what we'd been through, he deserved some answers. Just... not all of them. Not yet.

“Right.” His smile was sharp enough to cut. “Because CITD's totally fine with one of their agents running around with a hunter, investigating things that officially don't exist.”

“Says the man wearing a two-thousand dollar suit to play federal agent.”

“Two thousand?” He looked down at himself, horrified. “You've gotta be kidding me. For this monkey suit? I could buy a decent arsenal for that kind of cash.”


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