He will, Victor retorted. His options are to help me or lose everything. No one was more threatening than the Titan.
John Turnbower did not pay attention to the buzz outside his office where those working in the police department shuffled paperwork and calls and conversation. He had sealed himself in his office to take a call from Victor on a private cellphone the Titan gave him.
Dread had curled in his stomach at the sight of Victor’s number, and it didn’t go away when the call was over. Victor had asked difficult things of John over the years, but nothing like this. Nothing as borderline insane as showing up midway through an assault on Victor’s home that Victor was planning himself and arresting them. Not after someone innocent had been shot and killed and another injured.
Stacy Drake was turning out to be one hell of a problem for Victor. If not for the way it affected John, he would have found the whole matter amusing. Victor Corbinelli, the man the city called the Titan, brought down by a young woman whose exploits so far were only inside a courtroom against an old rival who was now dead.
There had to be something else to her. Why else was Victor so afraid?
John couldn’t help but think of his wife and sons. What would happen to them if he didn’t do as Victor asked? His hands grew clammy. Sweat gleamed on his brow. He nearly jumped when the office phone rang. John didn’t recognize the number, but he knew it couldn’t be Victor. His old friend wouldn’t be calling this number.
“Turnbower speaking,” he answered in a monotone tenor.
The voice on the other end was familiar, but John had not heard it in over a decade. He broke out in a fresh sweat and paled as the cool tone reached him. “I do hope you aren’t planning on sending your force to help your old friend Victor today.”
John swallowed. “H-how… Wh-why are you calling me?”
“Never mind that. I have my reasons,” the voice replied. “I’ve been thinking about your involvement for some time, John, and wondering when I should step in. I was hoping you would make the choice yourself, but we have reached a point where I must make demands. You know what Victor is, don’t you?”
“Y-yes.”
“And you remember what I am, correct?”
John squeezed his eyes shut, shuddering. “Yes.”
“And you understand that if so much as one cop shows up at any of Victor’s properties, there will be consequences?”
John’s response was a squeaked confirmation.
“You know it is better for this city to lose Mr. Corbinelli rather than hundreds of cops and their families, including yours, if I get hungry, yes?”
A chill darted down John’s spine. He lowered himself into his chair, unable to stand. He was glad his blinds were closed so no one in the office could see the effect this conversation was having on him. “Y-yes, Mr. Drakethorn. No one will show up for Victor. You have my word.”
“Good.”
“B-but my family. How will they…”
“If Victor lives and comes for your family, I will protect them.”
Could John trust the word of Constantine Drakethorn?
Something clicked for him then. Drakethorn was making a threat from seemingly nowhere. The woman Victor had issues with was Stacy Drake. There had to be a connection.
Holy shit, he thought. I’ve fucked up.
Constantine’s silence on the other end was weighty, as if waiting for John to admit something. Finally, the police commissioner glanced at an old photograph of him and Victor, swallowing harder. “Personally, I think it’s time that monster was killed. My friend died a long time ago.”
Stacy’s hands wove through the air, magic trickling through and out from her. She spoke the incantation Rowan had taught her under her breath, sensing both the dryad and Miles on either side of her doing the same thing.
Kiera stood behind them, monitoring the edge of the grounds for any sign they’d been seen. Up on the hill stood the stronghold. It was old and made of stone, like Victor’s house in Aurora. Something about it seemed colder, crueler than the home she’d assaulted earlier. This building showed no signs of being a home, as dull and drab as Victor’s true home was. This was a facility. A prison.
Magic crackled in the air, a sign that the wards were thick and strong. Stacy noticed fencing and cameras, too. Everything Victor could have done to prepare for this awaited them.
He knew I would come here, she thought. Everything she saw so far matched the reports Kiera gave. All that remained was to shatter the wards and take over the fortress. Easy-peasy, she told herself.
She was well aware that the moment the defenses were down, they would be under attack. They had to be ready for anything. Cloaked in the stillness of night, the trio completed the incantation. Only one word from Rowan remained.
They had arrived about an hour ago. With Kiera muffling their work with a suppression spell, Rowan, Miles, and Stacy had started unweaving the wards using techniques Rowan learned about in Catherine’s secret collection. The trick was to reverse the magic already at work, not apply new spells. Turn the wards against its own mechanisms and bring it down. Like unlocking a door.
Stacy glanced at Kiera and nodded. She did the same to Miles. They were ready. At last, she met Rowan’s gaze. The green in his eyes darkened as he held her stare and gave a subtle nod. Stacy inhaled deeply, steadying her resolve. “For justice and the future,” she murmured to the dryad.
“For justice and the future,” he whispered back, then spoke the last word of the incantation. Magic rippled through the air, then shattered. The defenses fell like a curtain dropped from a rod. Initially, there seemed to be no reaction, but then the ground shook. The force of the wards breaking nearly rocked her back. Another deep breath, and she stepped past the line onto Victor’s property.
I’m here, motherfucker. Come face me.
Victor felt a great shudder.
It went through the ground, coursed through the walls of his stronghold. The men in the control room issued sounds of alarm as lights flickered and camera feeds were disrupted. Victor held up a hand to calm them. “She’s done what we wanted. Now, we wait.” He swiveled to eye Garth, who stood at the back of the room. “Get the Pack ready. I want her team dead, but bring the girl to me.”
“They’re hungry, Vic. They might not leave her alive.”
“Figure it out,” Victor growled.
