Catherine Reed had killed seventeen people that morning.
Nineteen of her own people were dead, twenty-four were wounded, and a substantial portion of her facility had been reduced to rubble.
Evelyn Holloway was missing.
And now Catherine had a meeting.
Of all the things she'd endured that day, this was beginning to feel like the most unreasonable.
She sat behind a borrowed desk in the administrative wing, studying her reflection in the darkened conference terminal. Her hair was neatly tied back. The cut on her cheek had been treated, and a clean jacket concealed the burns along her left forearm.
She looked professional.
Composed.
Almost respectable.
It was an impressive achievement, considering she'd spent the last hour imagining increasingly creative ways to murder Cassian Draven.
She had no proof that Iron Dominion was responsible for the attack.
That was the irritating part.
The attackers had withdrawn without leaving anything that directly identified their employer. Their equipment was expensive, their tactics disciplined, and their coordination far beyond anything an ordinary group of opportunistic adventurers could have managed.
Several organizations possessed those resources.
Iron Dominion was one of them.
And Cassian Draven had more than enough reason to want Evelyn Holloway.
The terminal chimed.
**[IAA Emergency Session]**
**[Connection Established]**
A collection of translucent windows appeared above the desk.
Arthur Bennett occupied the central position. The chairman of the International Adventurers Association looked tired, his normally immaculate suit slightly rumpled. A cup of coffee sat beside his keyboard.
Seraphine Vale of Silver Vanguard was already present, sitting straight-backed in a bright office. Margaret Harker of the Blackthorns occupied a battered leather chair, one boot resting against the edge of her desk.
Dr. Miriam Solberg appeared from an Institute conference room. Eleanor Whitfield represented the British Department of System Affairs.
And Cassian Draven was there.
Of course he was.
The Iron Dominion representative lounged comfortably in his chair, wearing a dark shirt and an expression Catherine would have paid good money to remove.
He noticed her connection.
"Director Reed."
"Draven."
"You look tired."
*And you look disappointingly alive.*
"Long morning," Catherine replied.
"So I've heard."
His smile widened.
She resisted the urge to disconnect.
Several additional participants had joined the emergency session.
Commander Amara Okafor of the Aegis Compact sat in one window, her dark uniform bearing the silver shield insignia of her organization. The Aegis Compact specialized in defensive operations, evacuations, and large-scale protection contracts. Catherine respected their competence, even if their leadership occasionally confused moral principles with workable policy.
Beside her was Julian Voss, Meridian's deputy guild master.
Catherine frowned.
Meridian's leader, Helena Arkwright, had been expected to attend personally. Instead, she'd sent her second.
*Interesting.*
Arkwright rarely delegated matters involving major guild conflict. She was either occupied with something important or deliberately avoiding the meeting.
Given the circumstances, Catherine suspected the former.
And if that important something involved searching for Evelyn Holloway, she would be having words with Helena later.
Several smaller organizations had also sent representatives. Their windows occupied the lower portion of the interface, names and affiliations displayed beneath their faces.
Catherine recognized most of them.
One, however, made her stop.
Not because she didn't recognize him.
Because she did.
Idris Al-Nasir.
The Living Flame.
Catherine stared at the window.
He sat in an expensive-looking armchair, one leg crossed over the other, holding a glass of something amber. He appeared entirely relaxed.
*What the hell is he doing here?*
Idris almost never attended IAA meetings.
In fact, Catherine couldn't remember the last time he'd bothered.
The independent adventurer had no guild to represent, no political position to defend, and apparently very little interest in what anyone else thought of him.
He also happened to be one of the last people known to have killed Evelyn Holloway.
That made his presence considerably less amusing.
Then Catherine noticed the window beside his.
For a moment, she thought the participant list had to be wrong.
*No.*
She leaned forward.
*You've got to be kidding me.*
Ren Takamura.
**World Rank Two.**
One of the three highest-ranked adventurers on the planet.
Catherine stared.
There were powerful adventurers who could defeat entire parties on their own. There were legendary fighters capable of bringing down monsters that would otherwise require hundreds of soldiers.
And then there were people like Ren Takamura.
Individuals powerful enough to be considered national security threats simply by existing.
Catherine had once read a classified assessment suggesting that, if Takamura ever decided to turn his abilities against a populated area, he could devastate an entire city before any conventional military response could stop him.
The report hadn't questioned whether he possessed that kind of power.
It had questioned whether anyone on Earth could stop him if he chose to use it.
And now he was sitting in an IAA conference.
Wearing an ordinary dark jacket.
Without saying a word.
*What the actual fuck is going on today?*
Takamura sat in a quiet room with pale wooden walls. His black hair was tied loosely behind his head, and his expression was unreadable.
No elaborate equipment.
No visible weapons.
Nothing that suggested he was one of the most dangerous individuals alive.
Except that Catherine knew exactly who he was.
Idris was dangerous. Exceptionally so. Catherine had seen enough of his work to know that underestimating the Living Flame was an excellent way to die.
But Takamura was something else entirely.
Idris was an elite adventurer whose reputation could empty a battlefield.
Takamura was the kind of man whose movements were monitored by intelligence agencies.
And as far as Catherine knew, he hadn't attended a public gathering in years.
Margaret noticed him a moment later.
"Hold on."
She leaned toward her camera.
"Is that Takamura?"
Arthur glanced at the participant list.
"Yes. Mr. Takamura accepted our invitation."
"Accepted?" Margaret repeated. "You invited him?"
"Naturally."
"And he actually showed up?"
Arthur hesitated.
"Apparently."
Margaret stared at the screen.
"Bloody hell. First Idris, now him? What is this, a reunion of people who never attend meetings?"
Idris raised his glass.
"Good afternoon, Maggie."
Margaret ignored him.
"Ren? You actually joining us?"
Takamura looked toward his camera.
He gave a single, almost imperceptible nod.
Then settled back into his chair.
That was it.
No greeting.
No explanation.
Not even a polite acknowledgment of the chairman.
Arthur cleared his throat.
"Thank you for joining us, Mr. Takamura."
Another small nod.
Margaret shook her head.
"Well, at least he's consistent."
Catherine studied the silent man.
Idris was here because Evelyn interested him. That much she suspected.
But Takamura?
He almost never involved himself in guild affairs. He rarely appeared in public, and reports of his movements were notoriously unreliable.
Why now?
Why this meeting?
And why, of all days, had two of the world's most powerful independent adventurers suddenly decided to involve themselves in the same crisis?
She didn't like it.
Not one bit.
Margaret turned back toward Idris.
"Speaking of people who never attend meetings, who the hell invited you?"
"Arthur, presumably."
Every eye turned toward the chairman.
Arthur sighed.
"Mr. Al-Nasir requested observer status. Given his direct involvement in the events surrounding the World Quest, I considered his presence appropriate."
"Observer status?" Margaret repeated. "Since when do you observe anything without setting it on fire?"
Idris smiled.
"Personal growth."
Nobody looked convinced.
Catherine studied him.
His expression gave away nothing useful.
"Something you'd like to contribute, Idris?"
He looked at her.
"Not yet."
"Then why are you here?"
"Curiosity."
Of course.
She disliked that answer.
She disliked it even more because she suspected it was true.
Arthur cleared his throat.
"If everyone is ready, I'd like to begin."
"Please," Catherine said.
The sooner they started, the sooner she could leave.
That was the theory, anyway.
***
Arthur glanced at the participant list.
"Before we begin, I see that the Ashen Banner has sent a representative."
A young woman appeared in one of the smaller windows. She wore a dark green guild uniform, and there were shadows beneath her eyes.
"Elena Marsh, Deputy Guild Master," she said.
Arthur frowned.
"Elena? Where's Gregory? I would have thought this was exactly the sort of meeting he'd insist on attending."
The young woman hesitated.
"Guild Master Harrow is dead, sir."
Arthur blinked.
"Oh."
A brief silence followed.
"He was killed during the fighting in Manchester," Elena added.
"Oh," Arthur said. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that."
"Thank you."
"Wasn't me, by the way," Idris remarked.
Several faces turned toward him.
Elena stared.
"What?"
"Your guild master." Idris took a leisurely sip from his glass. "I don't believe I killed him."
Elena drew a sharp breath.
For a moment, Catherine thought the young woman might actually say something spectacularly unwise.
Then Elena glanced at the name beneath Idris's window.
**Idris Al-Nasir — The Living Flame.**
Her jaw tightened.
She exhaled slowly.
"How reassuring," she said.
"Quite," Idris replied.
He seemed perfectly satisfied with the exchange.
Catherine stared at him.
*I don't believe?*
Apparently, the distinction between having killed a guild master and merely being unsure whether he'd killed a guild master was not one Idris considered particularly important.
Catherine glanced at the young woman.
*Gregory Harrow. Ashen Banner.*
A minor guild. Barely worth mentioning in the same breath as Northstar.
*Well. One less competitor.*
The thought came so naturally that Catherine barely registered it.
Arthur cleared his throat.
"Right. In that case, thank you for attending, Ms. Marsh."
"Of course."
He glanced at his notes.
"Now, regarding the incident at Northstar's facility—"
"Wait," Margaret interrupted.
Arthur looked up.
"What?"
"That's it?"
He frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"Gregory Harrow is dead, and we're just moving on?"
Arthur looked briefly uncomfortable.
"I've already expressed my condolences."
"Yes, very efficiently."
Catherine folded her hands beneath the desk.
Nineteen of her own people were dead, half her facility was in ruins, and Cassian Draven was sitting there looking as though someone had personally arranged the afternoon for his entertainment.
She was finding it increasingly difficult to care about Gregory Harrow.
Still, she inclined her head toward Elena.
"My condolences. Your guild has suffered a terrible loss."
Her voice was perfectly sincere.
Or at least it sounded that way.
Cassian smiled faintly. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
"How thoughtful of you, Catherine."
She didn't look at him.
*Say one more word.*
Just one.
Elena managed a tired smile.
"Thank you, Director Reed."
Margaret leaned back.
"Gregory always did have terrible timing."
To Catherine's surprise, Elena laughed.
It was a small, exhausted sound.
"He'd be furious that he missed this meeting."
"Really?" Margaret asked.
"He always complained that meetings were a waste of time. But he never missed one if he thought there might be a chance to argue with somebody important."
Margaret gave a short laugh.
"Sounds about right."
Arthur looked down at his notes.
"Well. Shall we continue?"
Nobody objected.
Catherine suspected Gregory would have been disappointed.
***
The first part of the meeting was devoted to the attack.
Arthur displayed a map of Northstar's damaged facility.
Catherine immediately disliked the amount of detail.
"Where did you obtain that?"
Arthur looked up.
"The map?"
"Yes."
"Publicly available satellite imagery and preliminary incident reports."
"Then I'd appreciate it if you didn't enlarge the restricted sections."
Arthur hesitated.
"Of course."
Cassian leaned forward.
"Restricted sections?"
Catherine looked at him.
"Yes."
"How intriguing."
"Not particularly."
"Now I'm curious."
*You were curious before you opened your mouth.*
Arthur cleared his throat.
"Director Reed, would you summarize the confirmed events?"
Catherine did.
Multiple coordinated breaches.
Specialized equipment.
Heavy offensive magic.
An attack lasting several hours before Northstar's surviving defenders forced the remaining hostiles to withdraw.
She explained the damage to the eastern perimeter and the research wing. She provided casualty figures and confirmed that emergency services were still operating on-site.
She did not mention Evelyn.
She did not mention the experiments.
And she certainly did not mention the burned restraint she'd found in Medical Three.
"Have the attackers been identified?" Eleanor asked.
"Not conclusively."
"Any claims of responsibility?"
"None."
"Any demands?"
"No."
Cassian tilted his head.
"How mysterious."
Catherine ignored him.
Amara Okafor spoke next.
"Do you require additional medical or evacuation support?"
"Medical assistance would be appreciated," Catherine replied. "Our remaining healers are stretched thin."
"Aegis can dispatch a team."
"Thank you."
Seraphine nodded.
"Silver Vanguard can provide healing specialists as well."
Catherine inclined her head.
Two useful offers.
Perhaps this meeting wouldn't be a complete waste of time.
Margaret raised a hand.
"I've got a couple of people who know their way around collapsed buildings. They can help clear the rubble."
"Under Northstar supervision," Catherine said.
"Obviously."
Margaret grinned.
"Wouldn't dream of stealing anything."
Catherine looked at her.
Margaret's grin widened.
"Much."
*Three useful offers,* Catherine amended.
*And one potential headache.*
Arthur turned toward Julian Voss.
"Would Meridian be able to contribute?"
Julian adjusted his glasses.
"We can provide logistical assistance and emergency supplies."
"Thank you. And please extend our appreciation to Guild Master Arkwright."
"Of course."
Catherine watched him.
"Speaking of Helena," she said, "I was under the impression she'd be attending personally."
Julian's expression remained polite.
"Guild Master Arkwright is currently occupied."
"With?"
"An urgent matter."
Catherine smiled.
"How specific."
"My apologies, Director Reed. I'm not authorized to discuss her schedule."
"Naturally."
Julian inclined his head.
Catherine considered pressing him.
Then decided against it.
She had enough enemies to worry about without manufacturing new ones.
For the moment.
***
"Now," Arthur said, "we need to address responsibility."
Cassian leaned back in his chair.
Catherine noticed.
She wished she hadn't.
"Director Reed," Arthur continued, "have your investigators recovered anything that might identify the attackers?"
"Several items are undergoing analysis. Weapons, encrypted communication devices, and modified System-compatible armor."
"Anything preliminary?"
"Only that the operation required substantial resources."
Cassian smiled.
"Sounds expensive."
"It was."
"Someone must have wanted something very badly."
Catherine looked at him.
"Do you have something to contribute, Draven?"
"Only an observation."
"Then make it."
He spread his hands.
"Whoever attacked you clearly believed the potential reward justified the cost."
"And?"
"And I find myself wondering what Northstar possessed that could possibly be worth such an extraordinary investment."
The conference fell quiet.
Catherine held his gaze.
"You seem unusually interested in our internal affairs."
"Naturally. One of the most powerful guilds in Britain was attacked. Shouldn't we all be interested?"
"Some of us are interested in identifying the attackers."
"Of course."
He leaned back.
"Others might be interested in understanding why the attack happened in the first place."
Arthur sighed.
"Cassian."
"What? It's a reasonable question."
Catherine folded her hands.
"Then perhaps you'd like to explain why you seem so confident the attackers were looking for something."
Cassian smiled.
"Because people don't usually spend a fortune attacking fortified buildings for the pleasure of redecorating them."
Margaret snorted.
Catherine looked at her.
"Sorry," Margaret said. "That one was actually quite good."
*Wonderful.*
Now he had an audience.
"Northstar is investigating the attack," Catherine said. "When we have confirmed information, we will share what is appropriate."
"How reassuring," Cassian replied.
She could feel a headache developing.
And she was beginning to suspect that no amount of healing magic would cure it.
***
The discussion moved to the broader situation in Manchester.
Eleanor presented reports of civilian casualties, property damage, and widespread disruption caused by adventurers pursuing the World Quest.
Several guilds had engaged in armed confrontations. Independent adventurers had attacked one another over information. Entire streets had been evacuated.
And the target of the quest remained unaccounted for.
Catherine disliked that final observation.
"Which brings us to Evelyn Holloway," Eleanor said.
*Of course it does.*
"The Department of System Affairs has received multiple reports that Northstar personnel removed Ms. Holloway from Manchester."
Catherine kept her expression neutral.
"Northstar intervened during a dangerous situation."
"Was she taken into custody?"
"She was removed from immediate danger."
"That wasn't my question."
"I'm aware."
Eleanor leaned forward.
"Director Reed, is Evelyn Holloway being held at your facility?"
Catherine looked at the government representative.
"Northstar does not disclose sensitive security arrangements during multi-party conferences."
"Was she there voluntarily?"
Catherine said nothing.
Margaret whistled softly.
"Oh, that's not a good silence."
"Margaret," Arthur warned.
"What? I'm just saying."
Eleanor's expression hardened.
"Director Reed, if a British citizen has been detained without legal authority—"
"Northstar acted to prevent her from being murdered."
"That does not give you the right to imprison her."
"I haven't said she was imprisoned."
"Then where is she?"
There it was.
The question Catherine couldn't answer.
Not because she was unwilling.
Because she genuinely didn't know.
And Cassian was watching her.
Far too closely.
"I won't disclose sensitive operational information," Catherine said.
Arthur frowned.
"This is an encrypted IAA channel."
"Encryption does not guarantee discretion."
Margaret grinned.
"She's got you there, Arthur."
Eleanor looked distinctly unimpressed.
"I expect a formal report submitted to my department."
"You'll receive an appropriate report."
"An appropriate report?"
"Yes."
Eleanor opened her mouth.
Then Cassian spoke.
"Perhaps Catherine simply doesn't know."
The room went quiet.
Catherine turned toward him.
"What?"
Cassian leaned back.
"Where the girl is."
A faint smile appeared.
"Perhaps that's the problem."
Catherine felt something tighten inside her chest.
"Explain yourself."
"Oh, nothing sinister. It's merely a possibility."
He tilted his head.
"After all, your security arrangements seem to have experienced some difficulties today."
Catherine stared at him.
Cassian's smile widened.
For one brief moment, Catherine forgot about the other participants.
All she could see was Cassian Draven.
Smiling.
As though he knew.
As though he knew exactly what had happened.
Her voice came out dangerously quiet.
"What do you know?"
Cassian raised his eyebrows.
"About what?"
"Evelyn Holloway."
"Only what everyone knows."
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't insult my intelligence."
His smile became almost affectionate.
"Catherine, I wouldn't dream of it."
*Liar.*
He continued.
"Although I do wonder whether your people have considered the possibility that she's no longer where you left her."
Catherine went still.
Not an accusation.
Not a confession.
Something worse.
A suggestion.
Specific enough to be deliberate.
Vague enough to deny.
"Why would you say that?" she asked.
Cassian shrugged.
"An educated guess."
"Based on?"
"Your expression, for one thing."
Margaret looked between them.
"All right. What am I missing?"
"Nothing," Catherine said.
Cassian chuckled.
"Apparently quite a lot."
Catherine's fingers tightened beneath the desk.
*I could kill him.*
It wasn't an especially constructive thought.
It was, however, becoming a remarkably persistent one.
"Tell me something, Catherine," Cassian said.
She looked at him.
"What?"
"How does it feel?"
"How does what feel?"
"To lose her."
Catherine went still.
Cassian smiled.
"Oh, come now. All that security. All those resources. And the girl simply slips through your fingers?"
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
"Don't I?"
"No."
"Then perhaps you'd care to explain where Evelyn Holloway is right now."
Catherine stared at him.
*That smug bastard.*
He didn't know.
He couldn't know.
Not for certain.
He was fishing.
She knew he was fishing.
And she was so thoroughly exhausted by the entire day that knowing it only made her angrier.
"Northstar's internal operations are none of your concern."
"Of course not. Although I imagine losing the most valuable person in the country would be rather embarrassing."
"We didn't lose—"
She stopped.
Too late.
Cassian's eyebrows rose.
Catherine felt her stomach drop.
*Shit.*
"Didn't lose what?" he asked pleasantly.
She said nothing.
"Oh, Catherine."
His smile widened.
"You did have her."
"That is not—"
"And now you don't."
"Draven, I swear to—"
"Wait."
Eleanor Whitfield leaned forward.
"Director Reed. Are you confirming that Evelyn Holloway was in Northstar custody?"
Catherine closed her eyes.
*Wonderful.*
"She was under our protection."
"Was?" Eleanor repeated.
Catherine opened her eyes.
Another mistake.
Another damned mistake.
Across the conference, Margaret slowly lowered her boot from her desk.
"Oh, this is getting interesting."
Seraphine looked genuinely alarmed.
"Catherine. Where is she?"
"I don't know!"
The words came out sharper than Catherine intended.
Silence.
Complete silence.
Catherine stared at the screen.
Every participant was looking at her.
*Oh, for fuck's sake.*
Arthur leaned forward.
"Catherine," he said carefully, "are you telling us that Northstar had Evelyn Holloway in its custody and has now lost track of her?"
Catherine could have denied it.
She could have refused to answer.
She could have disconnected.
Instead, she looked at the collection of faces staring back at her and felt the last threads of her patience begin to unravel.
"Yes, Arthur."
Another silence.
"Yes. We had her. We were keeping her in a secure location, that location was attacked, and now we don't know where she is."
For several seconds, nobody said anything.
Eleanor Whitfield stared at her.
Seraphine raised a hand to her mouth.
Margaret's expression went blank.
Even Cassian seemed momentarily surprised.
Ren Takamura, who had remained completely silent throughout the meeting, lifted his gaze toward Catherine's window.
His expression didn't change.
Somehow, that was worse.
Then someone started laughing.
Not a quiet chuckle.
Not a polite attempt to lighten the mood.
Actual laughter.
Catherine turned toward the sound.
Idris Al-Nasir had thrown his head back, laughing as though someone had just told him the funniest joke he'd heard in years.
"Oh, that's wonderful!"
Catherine stared at him.
*What the fuck?*
Idris was still laughing.
"Absolutely wonderful."
"Idris," Arthur said.
The Living Flame waved a hand, attempting to compose himself.
"My apologies."
He took a breath.
Then started laughing again.
Catherine felt her eye twitch.
*What is wrong with this man?*
Across the conference, Amara Okafor looked appalled. Eleanor appeared to be reconsidering whether she was attending a meeting of responsible organizations or a gathering of lunatics.
Margaret, unfortunately, seemed dangerously close to joining in.
Idris finally managed to straighten in his chair.
"Well," he said, still grinning. "That certainly makes things more interesting."
Catherine stared at him.
"Interesting?"
"Oh, very."
"Nineteen of my people are dead."
His smile didn't disappear.
"Yes. Terrible business."
The complete absence of genuine concern in his voice was almost impressive.
Catherine felt her fingers curl beneath the desk.
*I'm going to kill someone before this meeting is over.*
Arthur cleared his throat.
"Well."
Everyone turned toward him.
He looked at his notes.
Then at Catherine.
Then at the other participants.
"This isn't good."
*Thank you, Arthur.*
*An astonishing assessment.*
"Indeed," Eleanor said. "We have a missing civilian, an unprecedented World Quest, and an armed assault on a major guild facility. We need to establish what happened."
"Yes," Arthur replied wearily. "I'm aware."
"Perhaps I can help," Cassian said.
Catherine looked at him.
*Don't.*
He smiled.
"After all, Northstar has already demonstrated a remarkable talent for losing things."
*Don't you fucking dare.*
"Personnel. Infrastructure. Prisoners."
Catherine felt a familiar warmth gathering beneath her fingertips.
Cassian tilted his head.
"Although I must admit, Catherine, losing the most wanted woman in the world while she was strapped to a bed is quite an achievement."
Something snapped.
A sharp blue-white flash erupted from Catherine's hand.
**CRACK.**
The conference terminal exploded.
The projection vanished in a burst of sparks, and a shower of shattered glass and plastic scattered across the desk. A thin ribbon of smoke curled upward from the blackened remains.
Silence.
Catherine stared at the wreckage.
For several seconds, she didn't move.
Then she slowly lowered her hand.
*Well.*
*That's one way to end a meeting.*
The office smelled of burned electronics.
A small flame flickered inside the terminal.
Catherine extinguished it with a careless gesture.
She looked at the smoking remains.
Then at the empty space where Cassian's face had been.
*No more meetings.*
A knock came at the door.
"Director?"
Marcus Hale stepped inside.
His eyes moved from Catherine to the ruined desk.
Then to the smoking terminal.
He paused.
"Technical difficulties?"
Catherine looked at him.
"Yes."
Marcus nodded slowly.
"Should I contact IT?"
She considered the question.
Then looked at the wreckage again.
"No."
"Director?"
"Tell them the equipment worked exactly as intended."
Marcus stared at her.
Catherine leaned back in her chair.
"And cancel my meetings for the rest of the week."
"All of them?"
"All of them."
Marcus hesitated.
"What about the emergency IAA follow-up?"
Catherine closed her eyes.
*Absolutely fucking not.*