War is coming.
Everyone knows where to look for the enemy.
That may be the problem.
Chapter 25 turns its attention closer to home, where trust has always been the safest place to hide.
By the time the truth surfaces, someone will already have paid for it.
Let the reckoning begin.
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Silence had swallowed the conference room.
Whatever ease remained from brunch had disappeared beneath the tension gathering around the table. Even the Judicars had shifted from their usual places along the wall, their attention fixed on Lady Elsa as she leaned forward.
Her gaze moved across us before travelling to the men behind us.
"I know who's behind this."
The room changed.
A Judicar stepped away from the wall, his black coat brushing his legs as he entered the lamplight. Knives lined his belt, each shaped differently and none intended for ceremony.
I knew him well.
Bleed.
Nobody used his real name anymore. Apparently, carving enough rivers through enough enemies made introductions considerably easier.
He tilted his head.
"Time is bleeding, Lady Elsa. Speak before it drains out."
My mouth threatened a smile.
Bleed rarely wasted words. Usually because somebody was about to become intimately acquainted with the floor.
Across the table, Jamey abandoned his slouch while Alec's attention sharpened. Seth's fingers stopped against the tabletop.
"You've known all this time?" Samantha asked.
Lady Elsa shook her head.
"I've had suspicions. Recent events confirmed them."
Her fingers curled around the edge of the table.
"His name is Anderson Grey."
Silence returned differently this time.
Bleed's face gave away almost nothing, although a muscle tightened along his jaw.
Apparently, even stone could remember ghosts.
Jamey folded his arms.
"Who the hell is that?"
Lady Elsa kept her eyes on the table for another moment before lifting them.
"He was my partner decades ago. Brilliant, disciplined and utterly committed to destroying dark magic."
Her grip tightened against the wood.
"Until he decided destroying it was a waste."
Alec's chair creaked beneath him.
"He wanted to control it."
Lady Elsa nodded.
I studied her face.
"And you're certain he's behind this?"
Her gaze met mine.
"I am."
Bleed stepped closer to the table.
"Grey's return means more than vengeance. He knew the Forum, its people and how we operated." His eyes moved across the room. "If he's moving openly now, he prepared long before we knew to look for him."
Seth leaned back and folded his arms.
"All right. Say he's our guy. How do we find him?"
"Anderson never acted without contingencies," Lady Elsa said. "If he's active, his foundation is already in place. People, resources and somewhere to operate beyond our reach."
Samuel's attention shifted towards her.
"Then follow the magic. Rot always leaves a trail."
Campbell nodded.
"The black market."
Bleed's hand rested near the knives at his belt.
"Someone there will have answers."
I glanced at Seth.
"Guess that makes us backup while these two channel their inner outlaws."
A smile tugged at his mouth as he shook his head.
"Let's hope they come back with their morals intact."
"Ambitious."
Chairs shifted around the table as the conversation turned towards routes, contacts and whatever passed for a sensible plan when black markets and a man called Bleed were involved.
Lady Elsa remained seated.
Her fingers were still wrapped around the edge of the table.
Bleed noticed.
So did I.
Anderson Grey had been her partner.
Somehow, I doubted she had told us everything.
Lady Elsa breaks the silence first.
"He believed we'd never win any wars by fighting clean. He said we had to understand corruption before we could defeat it." Her fingers remain curled around the edge of the table. "I thought I'd pulled him back. I was wrong."
I fold my arms.
"So, what changed?"
Lady Elsa's gaze moves towards me.
"His methods did. His beliefs didn't."
Seth leans forward.
"Meaning?"
"Anderson always believed fear could accomplish what force couldn't." Her attention lingers on me. "This time, he's given people something to fear."
My stomach tightens.
"Me."
Lady Elsa doesn't answer immediately.
She doesn't need to.
Eric's chair creaks beside me.
"How?"
He leans towards the table.
"How do you know Anderson's after Max, and what does he know about her?"
Lady Elsa studies him before answering.
"Because Anderson knows how to turn uncertainty into suspicion. A whisper here. A doubt placed somewhere else. Give frightened people enough truth to make the lie believable, then let them spread it for you."
Alec's brow furrows.
"What lie?"
"That the Living Scripture is too powerful to trust. That its Vessel is unpredictable. That something carrying authority over divine law could become a weapon in the wrong hands."
My jaw tightens.
"Charming."
Alec releases a low whistle.
"That explains the Judicars. They think Max is a walking apocalypse."
"They've been taught to," Seth says.
Something in his voice pulls my attention towards him. His arms remain folded, but silver has begun threading through his blue eyes.
Lady Elsa nods.
"And I can prove it."
Bleed's attention shifts towards her.
"We found one of Anderson's spies inside the Forum."
Eric straightens.
"You caught one?"
"Young. Overconfident. Careless enough to believe nobody had noticed what information was leaving the Forum."
Bleed's jaw tightens.
"Where are they?"
"Contained."
His expression suggests he approves of that answer far too much.
Seth leans forward.
"What did they tell you?"
Lady Elsa's attention moves between us.
"Enough to confirm that Max isn't Anderson's true target."
My stomach drops.
"Then who is?"
Her gaze stops on Seth.
"I believe he is."
Jamey's chair legs strike the floor as he straightens. Alec's humor disappears, and Eric turns towards Seth with whatever tension existed between them temporarily forgotten.
Seth remains seated.
"Why?"
"Because Anderson doesn't need another practitioner of dark magic. He wants access to something dark magic cannot reproduce."
Seth's eyes narrow.
Lady Elsa gestures between us.
"The Living Scripture carries divine law. The Sacred Breath can move through that law without corrupting it. We've already seen what happens when your authorities enter communion."
My attention sharpens.
"He wants the Breath."
"I believe he wants what the Breath allows him to reach."
Seth looks at me.
"The Scripture."
Lady Elsa nods.
"And you're the path he believes can take him there."
Cold twists through my stomach.
Anderson isn't trying to get around Seth.
He intends to go through him.
Gabriel steps forward.
"Nothing said in this room leaves it."
His voice strips every remaining whisper from the table.
"Anderson has already placed spies inside the Obsidian Forum. We caught one. We don't know how many remain, who they've spoken to or how far his network reaches."
His gaze moves across every face in the room.
"That means allies, mentors and people you've trusted for years may already be compromised. Until we know otherwise, you discuss Anderson, Max, Seth and anything concerning the Living Scripture or Sacred Breath only with the people sitting in this room."
Nobody argues.
Gabriel's attention stops on Seth.
"And don't mistake power for protection. Sacred or otherwise, you can still bleed."
Seth holds his gaze.
"If Anderson has identified you as the path to Max's authority, he already knows more than he should."
Gabriel's eyes move around the table again.
"Find out who told him."
Seth pushes his chair back and rises. He crosses towards the window, sliding both hands into his pockets as the room begins to absorb what Gabriel has just said.
"We will."
His reflection stares back from the glass.
"But hunting Anderson isn't enough. We expose the lie about Max, find whoever is feeding him information and tear apart whatever he's built beneath us."
Bleed's fingers brush one of the knives at his belt.
"Finally, a sensible plan."
I glance at him.
"Your definition of sensible concerns me."
Agreement moves gradually around the table.
Plans follow quickly. Campbell and Samuel begin sorting what they will need while Jamey cracks his knuckles with considerably more enthusiasm than the situation deserves. Conversations break apart into assignments, routes and names until chairs begin scraping backwards and everyone has somewhere to be.
I remain seated a little longer.
Seth catches my eye from across the room.
Neither of us looks away.
By the time the others begin filing out, whatever Anderson Grey has planned feels considerably closer than it did an hour ago.
Seth waits until the last conversation disappears beyond the doorway before coming up behind me. His arms slide around my waist, drawing me back against him as his breath warms my neck.
"I can finally have some alone time with my wife."
I turn within his arms and pinch his cheek.
"What wife?"
His grin appears immediately.
"The one currently assaulting my face."
"Sounds like a sensible woman."
"Terrifying, actually."
I release his cheek.
Seth catches my hand before I can lower it and presses a kiss against my fingers.
"After Anderson is dealt with, I'm done waiting."
The humor slips from me.
"Waiting for what?"
His blue eyes hold mine.
"You."
My heart gives one hard beat.
Apparently, Anderson Grey has excellent timing if his goal is to ruin every conversation I actually want to have.
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The house feels different that night.
Everyone has scattered into preparation, taking the noise of the day with them. I sit on the edge of the bed while Seth stands near the window, his attention fixed somewhere beyond the glass.
He has barely spoken since we came upstairs.
I tolerate that for almost a minute.
"You're too quiet."
Seth glances over his shoulder.
"I'm thinking."
"About Anderson or the plan?"
His attention returns to the window.
"You."
I rise from the bed.
"That sounds dangerous."
Usually, that would earn me something.
Tonight, it doesn't.
I cross the room and place both hands against his back. The tension beneath his skin answers before he does.
"Talk to me."
Seth lowers his head.
"If Elsa is right, Anderson intends to use me to reach you."
"He intends to try."
Seth turns his head slightly.
"Max."
"What?"
"You know exactly what I'm saying."
I press my cheek between his shoulder blades.
"And you know exactly what I'm saying."
His hand closes over mine where it rests against his chest.
"I've lived with danger my entire life. Standing between you and it doesn't frighten me."
"I know."
My fingers tighten beneath his.
"That's what frightens me."
Seth turns towards me.
I keep hold of his hand.
"You would do it without thinking."
His expression gives me my answer.
Of course he would.
Irritation rises fast enough to hide everything underneath it.
"You don't get to do this alone."
"I wasn't planning to."
"Really? Because your face has spent the last hour planning something heroic and incredibly stupid."
The corner of his mouth finally moves.
"My face again?"
"Your face is a repeat offender."
His quiet laugh loosens something inside my chest, but only briefly.
I step closer.
"Would you let me protect you?"
His smile falters, and his fingers become still around mine.
"Max."
"Answer me."
His thumb moves across my knuckles.
"I don't know."
That answer hurts more than I expect.
"Then learn."
His gaze lifts to mine.
"Because I'm not standing behind you while you decide your life is an acceptable price for mine."
Something changes in his face.
I swallow against the pressure climbing into my throat.
"I can't lose you."
The admission leaves more quietly than I intended.
Seth becomes completely still.
"I've already had one life ripped apart while I was busy believing there would be time to fix it." My fingers tighten around his. "I'm not doing that again."
His free hand rises to my cheek.
"You won't."
"You can't promise me that."
"Then neither can you."
That stops me.
Seth steps closer until barely any space remains between us.
"You keep asking me to let you protect me while deciding you're the only one allowed to be afraid."
My mouth opens.
Nothing useful arrives.
Seth's thumb brushes my cheek.
"We're both going to be afraid, Max."
His forehead touches mine.
"We're just going anyway."
I close my eyes.
"I hate when you make sense."
"I know."
"Don't enjoy it."
"Too late."
I kiss him before his grin can get any worse.
Seth's restraint lasts barely a heartbeat.
His hand slides into my hair while the other draws me against him, and the fear we've both been pretending to manage finally finds somewhere to go. His kiss deepens, rougher than before, carrying everything neither of us managed to say across that conference table.
My arms close around him.
He is warm beneath my hands. His heart beats hard against my chest, stubborn and human and here.
That matters more than any prophecy ever could.
I pull back enough to find his eyes.
"You're not my shield, Seth."
His breathing remains uneven.
"No?"
"You're the man standing beside me."
His expression softens.
I press my palm against his chest.
"And if Anderson thinks he can use you to reach me, he's about to discover how badly he misunderstood the arrangement."
Seth's eyebrow lifts.
"Should I be concerned?"
"Probably."
"For myself or Anderson?"
I consider that.
"Yes."
His laugh reaches me a heartbeat before his mouth does.
This kiss feels different.
Fear remains between us, but neither of us tries to pretend otherwise. Seth's hand finds mine and our fingers lace together as he leads me towards the bed.
Gold stirs faintly beneath my skin.
Silver answers somewhere around him.
Neither needs our attention.
Tonight belongs to us.
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Much later, I lie with my head against Seth's chest while his fingers move lazily through my hair. His heartbeat has returned to something resembling normal, although mine remains suspiciously unwilling to cooperate.
"Seth?"
"Hmm?"
I trace one finger along his jaw.
"I've got you."
His hand stills in my hair.
Blue eyes find mine in the darkness.
"And I've got you."
This time, I believe we mean the same thing.
I move closer, and his arm tightens around me.
Anderson can have his spies.
He can have his whispers, his networks and whatever darkness he has spent decades building beneath our feet.
He cannot have Seth.
And he is going to learn exactly how unreasonable I become when someone tries.
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Three days passed without a call, a visitor or anything resembling trouble.
Mornings stretched lazily into afternoons. Evenings disappeared beneath tangled sheets, quiet conversations and prayers neither of us had ever expected to say aloud. For three days, Anderson Grey remained somewhere beyond our walls while Seth and I stole whatever peace we could before the world came looking for us again.
On the third evening, my phone rang.
I reached it before the second buzz.
"Samuel?"
Static crackled against my ear before something scraped violently across the connection.
"Max... Max..."
I sat upright, dragging the phone closer.
"You're cutting out. Speak to me."
His breathing came through in broken bursts.
"Anderson... knows... the plan..."
A crash swallowed the rest.
I hit the loudspeaker as Seth pushed himself upright beside me. His attention snapped towards the phone just as shouting erupted through the speaker.
Gunfire followed.
The first shots came in short bursts. Something shattered beneath them, spraying fragments close enough to the phone that I heard pieces strike the floor. Men shouted over one another while Samuel yelled something I couldn't make out.
Then power struck me.
Heat flashed beneath my skin as the Living Scripture reacted to something reaching through the connection. My fingers locked around the phone while a familiar presence tore across my senses.
Campbell.
His power hit hard enough to make the golden inscriptions beneath my skin flare.
Then it faltered.
"GET BACK!" Samuel screamed. "CAMPBELL!"
Something enormous struck metal.
The impact distorted the speaker before boots hammered across concrete and another volley of gunfire ripped through whatever room they were trapped inside.
Seth was already out of bed.
I barely noticed.
Another sound had reached the phone.
Campbell was trying to breathe.
Air dragged through liquid somewhere inside his throat, each attempt weaker than the one before it.
My stomach clenched.
"Samuel, talk to me. What happened to Campbell?"
"He knows..." Samuel's words broke beneath another crash. "Anderson knows the plan."
"I heard you. Tell me where you are."
Metal shrieked across the connection.
"Campbell, move!"
Samuel's voice disappeared beneath the sound of another impact. Something scraped across the floor, followed by a groan that ended in a choking cough.
My feet hit the floor.
"Samuel!"
"Stay with me!" he shouted, although he wasn't speaking to me anymore. "Campbell, look at me. Stay with me."
Campbell answered with another broken attempt at breath.
Seth reached for his clothes while silver began gathering close to his skin. He said nothing, and I didn't need him to. Whatever waited on the other side of that phone, we were going.
"Max..." Samuel's voice returned smaller this time.
My grip tightened.
"I'm here."
"He's still breathing." A ragged inhale broke between the words. "I can't hold them alone."
Something moved behind him.
Samuel heard it too.
His breathing stopped.
"Samuel?"
A violent impact exploded through the speaker.
His scream followed.
It ended halfway through.
The call remained connected for another heartbeat, carrying only the faint hiss of static and something heavy scraping across the floor.
Then the line died.
I stared at the screen.
Samuel's name disappeared.
Heat raced across my chest before I had time to think.
Golden inscriptions ignited beneath my skin, spreading over my arms and throat as the Living Scripture surged with enough force to send light spilling across the room. The phone creaked inside my grip.
Seth stepped beside me.
Silver had gathered around him now, denser than before, moving close to his body as his blue eyes fixed on mine.
"Where?"
"Campbell."
That was enough.
I lifted my head towards the empty space ahead of us.
The Living Scripture moved with me.
Golden symbols streamed from my skin and crossed the room, gathering against empty air. They turned once, rearranged themselves and locked into a pattern I had never consciously learned.
I understood it anyway.
"Open. Now."
The command struck.
Gold raced outward from the center of the pattern, and the room seemed to bend around it. A narrow fracture appeared in the air before widening beneath the pressure of living script, its edges burning bright as the space beyond came into view.
Noise crashed through immediately. Gunfire and screaming poured into the bedroom as smoke rolled through the opening.
Then the smell of blood reached me.
Seth's hand closed around mine.
I looked at him.
Silver moved through his blue eyes while the Sacred Breath gathered close around him, ready for whatever waited beyond the fracture.
He didn't ask whether I was certain, and I didn't ask whether he was ready.
Hell, they were destroying our home.
This was my new home.
They had touched Samuel. They had touched Campbell. They had reached into something that did not belong to them and torn at it as though they had the right.
Now they were going to meet my fury.
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There is no mercy now.
The veil has parted. The decree was spoken. The Sacred Breath has answered.
What stands beyond that portal is not rescue. It is not salvation.
It is judgment. Divine. Absolute. Unrelenting.
The world still believes the Living Scripture is restrained.
They're wrong.
They are about to witness what happens when Max stops holding back.