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Chapter Text

P r o l o g u e 

Aelin knew she was being followed. The only question was by whom? And what did they want?

Not stopping to ponder the answers, Aelin sped up on the sidewalks of Rifthold. She was already in the seedier area, noticing with unease that it was abnormally empty. She watched the black car creep up to her out of the corner of her eye.

After a split second decision, Aelin turned a corner and started to race down the alleyway. Tires screeched behind her and sounds of the heavy footsteps soon sounded behind her.

She tore down the thin alley between buildings, jumping the fence at the end and continuing on. On the other side, she landed hard and sent gravel scattering in all directions. Sprinting, her eyes latched on the neart building and the fire escape stairs outside. 

Aelin took the stairs two at a time. Her feet pounded on the metal, the whole structure shaking slightly. She made it to the roof of the building and momentarily glanced down. A group of men dressed in black were making their way over the very fence she’d hopped. Slow bastards.

She started to run across the roof, nimbly jumping the gap between that building and the next. Falling into a familiar pattern, Aelin raced across the roofs. Soon enough, the footsteps of the men running alongside her on the street died out. 

She slowed and glanced around to figure out where she was. Just as she recognized the building across from her, movement in the corner of her eye caught her vision. Aelin whirled and ducked, just as a fist landed where her face had been. 

Her right leg swung up to hit her attacker soundly in the stomach. He let out a groan and stumbled back, but quickly recovered. 

As she got into a fighting stance, the man doing the same, she took the opportunity to observe him. He was tall, probably over six foot, and had broad shoulders. His face was half obscured in shadow, revealing nothing but a hint of tanned skin. 

Another figure emerged from the shadows behind him. But then vanished in an instant.

Aelin blinked in surprise, right before hearing a sound from behind her. She was about to whirl around when she felt a prick on her neck. 

She inhaled sharply as her limbs began to droop. Suddenly, there were arms gently lowering her down and a voice saying, “sorry, love. Orders.”

The man in front of her stepped out of the shadows and crouched down before her. He said something to the man holding her up, but her ears had started to ring and the words were just a jumble of distant noise.

The last thing she noticed before darkness took over were pine green eyes staring coldly at her.

Aelin awoke blindfolded and gagged, with her wrists and legs bound tightly to the chair she was on.

Disoriented, she tried to listen for any clues to where she was. All she heard was the constant drip of water from somewhere. She could also smell a musty scent in the air, leading her to believe she was underground. 

Who had kidnapped her? Arobynn’s men? Gods knew she had a long list of enemies. 

Soon, a door creaked open and footsteps sounded. Aelin tensed slightly, preparing for anything.

The blindfold was lifted gently from her eyes. 

Aelin blinked twice as her eyes adjusted. In front of her, a man in a crisp gray suit stood. He was old and had a face lined with wrinkles, but his smile seemed kind. 

“Ah, you’re awake. I do hope you’re okay,” the man said.

What kind of kidnapper asks if someone is okay? she wondered vaguely. “Peachy,” she drawled. “I loved being drugged, kidnapped, and tied to a chair in some shithole.”

The man’s smile only grew. “Apologies. We only wished to have…a conversation.”

“So talk,” she said. 

“Well, my name is Emrys. You’re at the Mistward headquarters of the ISAD or International Secret Affairs Department. And we believe you have a unique set of skills that would mutually benefit us all.”

The government? Aelin would literally rather be kidnapped by anyone else. They knew she was a criminal right? Well surely if they knew about her ‘unique skills’ the answer was yes.

“Right,” Aelin said slowly. “How about you untie me first, then we’ll talk?”

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  1

Aelin tapped her foot in the car and glanced out the tinted windows. 

The guards in the front of the car sent her nervous glances, which made her fight the urge to roll her eyes at them. They pulled up in front of a large compound and clambered out of the car. 

As she was led to the main door, she took note of the high tech security system and reinforced windows.

Instead of entering the main entrance, however, they led her around the back to a small metal door. One guard punched a code into the keypad outside, and the door swung open. 

A dark, narrow stairwell then led them to another door.

She glanced between the guards and the door with a raised eyebrow. “I’m supposed to go in there?”

They nodded.

She huffed. “You could at least be gentlemen and open the door for me.”

The guards exchanged startled glances. One started to reach for the door, but Aelin had already strode up to it and swung it open. If she was going to die, at least she’d do it boldly.

Inside the room, she paused, finding several people already in there. The center of the room had a training ring, while the walls were lined with various weapons.

Several of the eyes snapped to hers. A tense silence stretched between the group, which Aelin broke by saying, “I know I’m pretty, but there’s no need to stare.”

A gorgeous brunette sitting on the floor snorted at the comment. The dark haired man at her side smiled slightly as well, though he seemed nervous. 

Without another word, Aelin strode over to the weapons rack. She examined the shiny blades, watching the others from the corners of her eyes. 

Her eyes landed on the two people she’d seen first. A brown haired woman with emerald eyes sat with her legs crossed underneath her. Beside her was a man with black hair and sapphire eyes. The two didn’t seem to be speaking, despite sitting together. 

On the opposite side of the room, a man with sugar brown curls leaned his shoulder against the wall. His light brown eyes darted across the crowd, warily, examining everyone just like Aelin. He was scrawny, unlike the dark haired man who had broad shoulders. 

For a brief second, the man reminded her of Sam . The thought sent a pang through her chest. She shook off the memories and continued her analysis. 

A few paces away from him was another brunette. This one was short and petite, with dark eyes. Much like the curly haired man, she was watching everyone cautiously. 

The remaining two people were on her side of the room. One of the most beautiful women she’d seen was leaning against the wall with a wicked curved sword in her hands. Glossy white hair and amber eyes. Her skin was porcelain pale. She was also completely still, almost inhumanly so.

Finally, a woman with brown skin and silky black hair stood at the same rack as Aelin. She lifted a quiver of arrows and bow, tucked them into her side.

Aelin ceased her pretend examination of the weapons and grabbed what she had planned to get from the beginning. A curved dagger about the length of her forearm. She lifted it up, admiring the sheen of metal and the sharp edge of the knife. Aware she probably looked like a maniac, she lowered it back to her side.

“I guess we’re all here for the same reason,” Aelin said, meeting the eyes of the others.

“I guess so,” the short brunette responded. 

“Do we trust them?” the dark haired man pondered. No one asked who “them” was. He glanced at Aelin, who merely shrugged. 

“They’re given us no reason not to,” said the green eyed woman.

“Oh, I think being kidnapped is reason enough,” the one with curly hair said. His lips tilted into a lopsided grin just like Sam’s. 

Aelin’s breath hitched at the sight, before she smoothed it over and scolded herself internally. 

“Kidnapped?” the woman responded. “Emrys approached me with a job offer, he didn’t…” she seemed alarmed at the thought of someone bringing us here by force. 

“Do you think they have an ulterior motive?” the archer asked quietly. 

“Everyone has an ulterior motive,” Aelin said flippantly. 

No one responded to that. 

Luckily, footsteps outside drew their attention away from the silence. They echoed from behind the large doors, the ones that seemed to lead to the rest of the compound and not the outside. 

The doors opened, and a group of men walked in. Emrys and another man stood in front, three younger men behind him.

Aelin’s eyes landed on one of the men, recognizing the tall stature and the pine green eyes. “You,” she snarled.

His eyes turned to hers, and he smirked. 

Bastard.

He was handsome, though. Jaw droppingly so. It was only barely restrained rage that stopped her from ogling the man. He had a chiseled jaw, with ink lining up to his temple in swirling lines. His hair was silver, crisp as moonlight.

No, Aelin. We hate him. 

The men beside him were good looking as well. The tallest had dark hair and eyes, with a seemingly set-in-place scowl. The other had blonde hair and dark eyes that glimmered with excitement. 

Noticing her, the blonde waved. “Hey, love. Sorry for yesterday.”

Her mind reeled at his voice and the nickname. She scowled. “Call me ‘love’ again and I’ll pull out your tongue.”

He grinned at her, but before he could say anything, Emrys interrupted, “okay, that’s enough. I expect you all to get along.” This he said with a long glance in Aelin’s direction. She huffed, earning a few laughs from the confused strangers. 

Continuing, Emrys said, “for starters, we want you to get to know each other. Particularly, fighting styles and abilities. The training room is for that very reason. This room is soundproof, fireproof,” another glance at Aelin which made her insides churn, “and virtually indestructible.I ask that you kindly refrain from killing your future teammates.”

Aelin glared at the two men that had kidnapped her. Like hell she’d refrain. 

Emrys finished by saying, “this is my husband and co-leader, Malakai.” Malakai nodded, his square face lined with wrinkles like Emrys’. Unlike Emrys though, his face was stern and bore no smile. “He will be overseeing today’s training. Enjoy.”

The man turned to leave, and Malakai sent his scrutinizing gaze over all of them. 

“Let’s get started,” he ordered. “Lorcan,” he said. The tallest man immediately strolled over to the ring. “Fenrys,” he said. The blonde who had kidnapped her moved to the ring as well.

“You may use your powers and any weapons you so desire,” Malakai droned.

Powers? As in, she wasn’t the only one with powers here? Interest piqued, Aelin re-examined everyone, as if it would somehow give her insight into what they could do.

“Just hands and powers, boyo,” Lorcan said, his voice low and rough.

“You’re on,” said Fenrys, getting into a fighting stance.

Malakai signaled, and the fight began.

Fenrys threw the first punch, which Lorcan dodged. The man was surprisingly nimble, despite his tall height, but still not very fast. 

Aelin watched with rapt attention as Lorcan aimed a fist straight for Fenrys’ face…only to meet with nothing. In a blink, Fenrys reappeared behind Lorcan. She restrained her shock, fighting to keep her poker face on. Several other gasps echoed across the room.

So that was how Fenrys managed to drug her. Interesting.

Lorcan turned too slowly, and the side of his face crashed with Fenrys’ fist. The man stumbled back and grinned, the act slightly maniacal on him. She thinks she preferred the scowl. 

In a blink, dark shadows began to swirl around Lorcan. They swam out and reached for Fenrys’ legs, but the blonde winked out again and reappeared a few feet away. 

This fight with their abilities continued on. No one landed any blows, just danced around each other. Soon enough, Lorcan began to predict Fenrys’ movements and adjust accordingly. 

Fenrys teleported again, avoiding Lorcan’s shadows, and reappeared directly behind Lorcan. Before Fenrys could land a blow, Lorcan ducked and his shadows launched straight over him into a surprised Fenrys.

The blonde crashed backward, sliding a few feet to the edge of the training ring. After he laid there stunned for a few seconds, he stood up and dusted himself off. “Damn,” he muttered. “I was hoping I could beat you this time.”

“Better luck next time, boyo,” Lorcan responded, a hint of a smile on his lips. He quickly wiped it off and strode back over to where the silver haired man was standing. Fenrys followed him.

Damn, she thought. Should have gotten a bowl of popcorn before these fights.

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  2

“Alright,” Malakai announced. “Dorian and Manon up next.”

Several people moved at once. The dark haired, blue eyed man walked over to the weapons rack and pulled out a plain sword. Then he stepped up to the ring and tugged at his shirt cuffs nervously. The silver haired woman with amber eyes joined him, her strides even and graceful. At her side was her curved sword.

The short brunette also moved, heading towards Aelin instead of the ring. Her left leg had a slight limp as she walked, and she let her head of dark hair shield part of her face as she crossed the agents at the door.

The girl slowed to a stop next to Aelin and sent her a small smile.

Over in the ring, the fight had started. Manon stalked around Dorian, the way a predator stalks helpless prey. When Dorian didn’t move an inch, she swung her sword towards him. He dodged, seeming uneasy as he glanced at the weapon. 

Manon didn’t even blink, simply sent her sword arching through the air where it met Dorian’s with a clash of metal.

“I’m Aelin,” she said softly to the brunette beside her, keeping her eyes fixed on the fight.

“Elide,” the woman responded. 

Dorian, with his crisp white shirt and trouser pants, didn’t seem like the type of man to be able to sword fight. Yet, his swings were sure and steady against the fierce woman across from him. 

It didn’t take long for him to tire though, a bead of sweat dripping down his neck, and Manon grinned. A fierce, violent thing with no real joy in it. She saw her opportunity and struck with her abilities.

The sword in her hand morphed and split into two smaller knives, the metal twisting and breaking in the air. She sent both flying through the air without even using her hands. 

Dorian held out a hand, halting one in its tracks before it hit his chest. The other slipped past him, clattering on the outskirts of the ring.

In a flash, Dorian sent the one knife flying back at Manon. She slid away, but not fast enough. The edge of the knife left a shallow cut in her upper arm, where the fabric of her shirt was now torn.

“What are their powers?” Aelin muttered, mostly to herself. It looked like both could make the swords move without using their hands. Did they have the same ability?

“Dorian’s is telekinesis,” Elide responded, to her surprise. “Manon’s is metal manipulation.”

The fight waged on.

“Interesting,” Aelin said. “And you know this because?”

Elide gave her a slight smirk. “I hacked the agency and found the files on all of you.”

Aelin tore her eyes away from the fight to send her an incredulous glance. “Damn. Impressive.” 

A groan brought her attention back to the fight. Dorian was clutching his jaw, while Manon watched on.

The swords had been abandoned, neither fighter being able to fully take control of them, so it seems they’d resorted to hand-to-hand combat. 

Manon swept Dorian’s legs out from under him and sent him crashing to the floor. 

“Good,” Malakai called. 

“Walk it off, pretty boy,” Manon said, peering coldly down at Dorian.

Dorian, to his credit, only grinned. “As milady desires.” He pushed himself up to his feet, working his sore jaw. He strode over and clambered clumsily off the ring, before retreating to the same corner as the man with curly hair.

Manon climbed off next, jumping down with a smooth, feline movement. She stalked past Aelin and Elide without meeting their eyes. 

Is it bad that Aelin found her hot? Settle down, she reminded herself. 

“Nox and Nesryn,” Malakai called. “You’re up next.”

The curly haired man strode over and stepped into the ring. The woman with brown skin abandoned her bow and arrows to join him.

“Hand-to-hand?” Nox asked.

Nesryn nodded, settling into a fighting stance.

Malakai signaled for them to start, and they began. Immediately, Aelin noticed that Nox was quick and nimble, but seemingly unused to fighting. His punches were sloppy and hesitant, without a lot of power behind them.

Nesryn seemed less hesitant, her moves sure and strong, but her fighting was predictable and fell into a quick pattern. Any of the other fighters so far might have been able to take her down, but her opponent was Nox.

The woman was swift as she pushed Nox back. She landed a few solid punches, but as she aimined another right hook towards him, Nox suddenly vanished.

Nesryn frowned, before yelling as her feet were swept out from under her. She rolled to her feet and whirled around, searching for her invisible opponent. 

There was a scrape of feet, which Aelin recognized as Nox’s. Nesyrn heard the same, whirling in his direction and roundhouse kicking the man. 

A soft ‘oof’ sounded and footsteps stumbled back. Nesryn attacked the same spot, but the man had moved by then. His footsteps were too soft to be heard. 

Suddenly, Nesryn’s arm was pulled behind her back and she was dropped to the ground. Hovering above her, a figure re-appeared. His clothes and hair were rumpled and messy. 

Malakai called for them to stop, and Nox immediately released Nesryn. Nesryn peeled her face from the ground and pushed herself up, turned to meet Nox. 

“Not bad,” she commented.

Nox rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Thanks. You probably would have won if not for my power.”

“Do you have a power?” Nox asked, expression puzzled. Aelin had been wondering the same, as Nesyrn had been one of the only ones not to respond with an ability.

Shrugging, Nesryn said, “I’m an archer. I have good aim.”

“Understatement,” Elide hissed, only for Aelin’s ears. “She’s a perfect shot.”

“Just with bows and arrows?” Aelin interrupted.

Nesryn sent her a glance, a small gleam in her dark eyes. “Knives, spears, guns. I prefer a bow and arrow, but I never miss a shot.”

“My kind of girl,” Aelin said.

Nesryn’s lips twitched up. Her and Nox climbed down from the ring, as Aelin examined the crowd. There were only 4 people left. Elide, the other brunette, Aelin, and the silver haired prick that had helped kidnap her. 

“Rowan and Aelin,” Malakai called. 

This should be good. 

The tall, silver haired man strode over to the ring and pulled himself up. Sheathed at his side, was a wide dagger. Aelin followed after him, tearing her eyes away from his arms lined with corded muscle. Her own long knife was gripped in her hands as she said, “just so you know, I don’t lose.”

“Likewise,” Rowan said. 

“Begin,” Malakai called. 

The two settled into fighting stances, and Rowan unsheathed his dagger. 

Rowan moved first, his dagger slicing through the air towards her. She ducked beneath his outstretched arm, elbowing him in the gut as she did. 

He quickly recovered and sent the dagger straight down towards her. Her knife flung up to meet it. 

“That the best you got?” she teased, jumping out of his way again.

They launched at each other again, a whirlwind of fists and steel in the ring. Although she hated to admit it, the man was good. Really good. 

For every blow she landed, he landed one too. Neither managed to pierce skin with their knives, although they’d come close. 

A couple of minutes into the fight, Aelin swung her leg up. To her surprise, she found the ground beneath her suddenly slippery and she slid to the ground. Landing rather ungracefully on her ass, she found the ring slick with ice.

Across from her, Rowan was watching her carefully. 

She stood up before he could move. Although she could easily reach into her own well of power, she avoided it whenever possible. She shoved down the bubbling fire, even as it begged to play with the man’s swirling ice. 

Bending her knees enough to keep her balance, Aelin swung her knife towards the man in a diagonal arch. He dodged her, and she moved to the side as an idea formed in her head.

Slowing down, she faked a couple of sloppy swings. Subtly moving to the side as she did. When Rowan approached her again, she dodged his dagger before swiftly grabbing his wrist and tugging him forward.

She kicked the back of one of his knees, praying she didn’t lose her balance. Luckily, she didn’t. Instead Rowan fell onto his own patch of ice, dagger skidding a few feet away. Aelin crouched with her knife to his throat, but he rolled over and kicked the knife out of her hand before she could blink.

Aelin backed away, ignoring her now aching wrist and the fact that she was weaponless. Rowan stood up, a bead of blood dripping down his lip from where the ice caught it. 

She closed her hands into fists as Rowan did the same. Aelin sent a tiny flicker of heat to the ice underneath her, fighting to keep it small. To her relief, it seemed to have worked and no one seemed to notice what she’d done.

Except Rowan, glancing knowingly from the ground to her. She launched herself at Rowan, the ice under her feet melting to water. It was still slippery, but easier for her to find her footing on.

He fought back, his feet barely sliding on the ice. They continued on, trading blows, until Rowan outstretched his hand and formed a thin knife of ice. With a swift move, he launched it at her and she ducked to avoid it.

Rowan only made more, flinging them at her. 

She dodged them, wincing as one slicing past her. She caught one that he flung towards her face, gripping the freezing cold knife tightly. Before it could melt with the heat of her palm, she crouched down and used the ice to slide towards Rowan.

Pushing herself to her feet closer to him, she aimed with the knife. He quickly caught her, blocking her move with his bicep. They were nearly face to face, the knife inches away from his throat, blocked only by his arm between them.

“Enough,” called Malakai. 

Aelin halted and stepped back, finding Rowan doing the same. 

“Call it quits, you two,” he said.

She frowned, but climbed out of the ring and onto the floor. Rowan did the same and didn’t cast her another glance.

Fenrys, however, whistled and said to her, “damn, you lasted longer against Whitethorn than me.”

“Anyone can last longer than you, Fenrys,” Rowan grumbled. 

Fenrys rolled his eyes and sent Aelin a not-so-subtle thumbs up, to which she smiled slightly. 

She moved back over to Elide, whose eyes were wide. 

“How long was that?” she asked the brunette.

“15 minutes,” Elide responded.

Aelin only nodded, before glancing over at Malakai. The man examined them once, before nodding to himself.

“Not bad at all. There are more training rooms adjacent. They have climbing walls, targets, and an even wider assortment of weapons. We assume that will be sufficient to suit your needs. Upstairs are the living quarters. Tomorrow, we will be back for a briefing,” he explained. 

He then strolled out the door, leaving the group in tense silence.

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  3

Nox was the first to speak, glancing over at the two brunettes with confusion. “I didn’t get your names.”

“I’m Lysandra, but you can call me Lys,” the green eyed woman said.

Elide introduced herself to the crowd next. “Elide.”

“Why didn’t he call you two up to fight?” Fenrys asked. Lorcan elbowed him soundly. “Oh, what?”

Lys shifted uneasily on her feet. “I don’t really know how to fight like the rest of you. I’m a shapeshifter,” she explained. “That’s why they wanted me.”

Interesting. “Can you shift into anything?” Aelin asked. “Do you have a favorite form?”

Lys pinned her green eyes on her. “I can shift into animals or other humans, so long as I have a clear idea of what they look like. And for my favorite form…” her eyes glittered. “Have you ever heard of ghost leopards?”

Aelin merely grinned in return. “I’d pay good money to see that.” Ghost leopards were practically a myth, driven to near extinction by hunting over the years. They were massive beasts, with white fur and gleaming fangs. 

Dorian smiled uneasily, shifting closer to Nox whose eyes were wide with awe. 

Quietly, Elide said, “I can’t fight much either. Not with my leg.” Multiple sets of eyes dropped to her left leg. “I’m here because I’m a hacker, good with technology. And as for my power…I can sense lies.” 

Aelin started, turning to Elide. Her power…she made a mental note to never lie to Elide. Shit, she hadn’t lied in their conversation, had she? Too hard to keep track. 

Elide didn’t squirm under the weight of everyone’s gaze, though she did shift towards Aelin subtly. 

“I’ve never met anyone with powers before,” Lys admitted. “I thought I was the only one.”

“Me too,” Nesryn said.

Me three, Aelin thought. She’d kept her power hidden away, for fear of losing control and getting found out. 

“I don’t know about all of you,” Aelin interrupted, “but I’m starved. Should we see what there is in the kitchen? I could kill for chocolate cake right now.”

Lys laughed, and several others agreed. 

Aelin brushed past Rowan to the door and opened it. 

It opened into a long hallway, which was dark and ominous. As she walked down it, the others following behind her, she noticed several doors which must have been the other training rooms Malakai mentioned.

At the end of the hall was a staircase, which led up to another door. She opened it, blinking as warm light flooded in. 

The others spilled out behind her, examining the space. They were in a white hall, with marble tiles on the floor. 

Turning right, Aelin took a few steps towards the next room. It was a living room, with various couches and some decorations. Her eyes glanced over a vase on the table, as well as a Van Gogh painting on one wall.

She walked past the threshold of the living room and cheered when she found a kitchen. A dining table for ten was on one side, while the other side had cabinets and dark counters.

Fenrys stepped up beside her, opened up cabinets. Lys went to join him. 

“Coffee, anyone?” Lys asked, shaking a tin of ground coffee. 

“I’ll make tea, too,” Elide offered. 

Several voices requested one or the other, while Fenrys pulled out a box of biscuits from

a cabinet. 

Aelin watched the others, noticing the dynamic. Fenrys, Lorcan, and Rowan definitely knew each other. They always stuck together, with Rowan in front forming the point of the triangle.

Dorian and Nox chatted lightly, standing beside each other. Lys also stuck with the same group, except now when she was making coffee. 

“I can’t cook for shit,” Lys said, “but I can make coffee.”

“Please tell me someone actually knows how to cook,” Dorian said.

Nox, Fenrys, Nesryn, and Elide all said they could. At least they wouldn’t starve. 

Within a few minutes, everyone had settled around the dining table. Aelin ended up in the middle, across from Manon. She met the woman’s amber eyes with a sly smirk. 

Lys slid Aelin a cup of coffee. She thanked the woman profusely, eager to dampen the headache that still lingered from being drugged the day before. 

Rowan and Nesryn sat on either side of Aelin, and Aelin pointedly shifted towards Nesryn’s side. 

Fenrys was the first to speak up, an easy going grin on his face. “I suppose we should get to know each other, huh team?”

It was Elide who nodded and said, “how’d they find all of you?”

Lys started. “I don’t know how they discovered my power. But they first showed up at my door after…my uncle vanished. He just didn’t come home one day, and I didn’t have any other family. So when they offered their help…” she swallowed thickly and glanced down at her cup. 

Elide frowned. “Your uncle?”

“Emrys said his disappearance had something to do with our mission. If there’s even a chance he’s still out there…”

“Then we’ll do our best to find him,” Aelin finished, sending her a slight smile. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Rowan said coldly beside her.

“The faith you have in your new team members is astounding,” she said sarcastically, shooting him a cold glance.

She didn’t trust anyone. Had the trust beaten out of her by Arobynn and his men, but if these people were to be her teammates…Just cause she didn’t need anyone, doesn’t mean they didn’t have their uses. 

Besides, she felt like she’d like most of them. Even Fenrys was growing on her, which just left Rowan and Lorcan as potential thorns in her ass.

“I’m supposed to trust low life criminals?” he asked, eying her. So he definitely knew who she was. 

“That’s quite a superiority complex there, Whitethorn,” she said. “There’s a door over there if that’s truly how you feel.”

He bared his teeth at her. “You’re pathetic-”

“-ladies, ladies,” Fenrys interrupted. “You’re all very pretty, we can be civil can’t we?”

Aelin and Rowan both rolled their eyes and leaned back into their seats. She noticed everyone had been watching their exchange warily. 

After a few moments of silence, Nox spoke, “I didn’t grow up in the best area. I used to use my ability to steal, and one day I stole from the wrong person. A government official, one who had ties to this agency. I ran, but they tracked me down after that. Basically, it was to agree to this or be considered a threat to national security,” he added. 

Elide smiled. “Same,” she said. “I accidentally hacked into their system, so they brought me here for questioning. I may have slipped up during the interrogation because I knew they were lying to me. They discovered my power and offered me this job, saying I wouldn’t get in trouble for hacking.”

“Accidentally?” Nox asked incredulously. 

She nodded, and Nox’s expression grew more baffled. 

Nesryn went next, explaining how she lived with her family on their ranch. Just like with Lys, her older sister had gone missing. The agents had reached out to her with a similar offer. 

Dorian was also approached for a job. So far, only her, Nox, and Elide seemed to have a less than savory record. Aelin was also willing to bet money on Manon being a criminal. 

“Wait,” Nox interrupted. “You’re that senator’s son, aren’t you?”

Everyone turned to Dorian, and Aelin quickly realized Nox was right. Dorian Havilliard, he said his name was. And he had that same square jaw and dark hair, though his eyes were a lovely, sapphire blue.

“Yes,” Dorian said with a clenched jaw.

“Don’t get along with Dorian Sr.?” she asked, noticing his reaction.

He eased up and shook his head. “You could say that.”

No one pressed any further, though his fancy clothes made a bit more sense now. 

Aelin met Manon’s eyes across the table. She noticed that the sleeve of her shirt was torn from the fighting, revealing a tattoo across her upper arm. A tattoo of barbed wire. She recognized the symbol instantly as that of the Ironteeth Witches, a dangerous gang. Bingo.

Manon’s eyes similarly latched onto the scar visible on Aelin’s neck. It was gang custom to repay people who killed their members with this very scar. After Aelin killed one of their one in an...unfortunate encounter, she’d been dragged to a cell and held down. They’d used actual barbed wire and wrapped it tightly around her neck. Of course, they’d also planned on killing her later, but she escaped. 

Both women noticed each other’s stare and met eyes. 

“Witchling,” Aelin said.

“Witch-killer,” Manon hissed in turn.

All eyes turned to them.

“Who did you kill?”

Aware she probably couldn’t get away with lying in front of Elide and unsure of the petite woman’s loyalties, Aelin admitted, “Baba Yellowlegs. The old crone had it coming.”

Manon merely nodded. “If it had been a Blackbeak, you’d be dead.”

Aelin clicked her tongue. “Maybe we’ll see about that in the training room tomorrow.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Dorian interjected. He blanched a little when both

women turned to him. “Or do whatever you want to. Yeah.”

There were still a few gazes lingering on Aelin and Manon after that. She wondered how they’d react if they knew what exactly Aelin had done before she escaped Arobynn. If they knew she was an assassin. Luckily, no one asked her.

“Training is a good idea, though,” Nesryn said. “We don’t know what this mission is yet, or what it’ll entail.”

The rest of the group nodded in agreement. Aelin turned to Elide to say, “if you want, you can train with us too. At least to learn self defense.” When she hesitated, Aelin continued, “people will always underestimate you. The ankle doesn’t have to be a weakness.”

Elide nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks.”

The conversation returned to normalcy after that, with everyone sharing odd hobbies and facts. They learned that Nesryn loved to bake and ride horses. Nox had an interesting affinity for poisons, which earned him a few side eyes. Dorian loved reading and dogs, which Aelin seconded. It immediately launched into a discussion of the most recent books the two had read.

By the time her coffee was finished, most people felt more at ease around each other. Except for Rowan, Lorcan, and Manon who never spoke.

Aelin turned to the little cadre, before asking, “how long have you three known each other? And worked for the agency?”

Fenrys answered. “I joined when I was 13, Lorcan and Rowan have been there longer. We first met when I was around 15, I think.”

Rowan and Lorcan sent him warning glances, to which he quieted. 

“That’s awfully young,” Elide said. “Why did you-”

Lorcan stood up, his chair screeching backwards. “That’s none of your business.” He strolled away without another word, Rowan and Fenrys following after him. Fenrys sent them all an apologetic glance before leaving.

“Who pissed in his cheerios?” Lys mumbled, before bringing Elide into another conversation.

Aelin watched the three leave silently. She couldn’t blame the man for having things he wanted secret. If she had it her way, her own past would be locked in a box and buried too deep for anyone to find it. 

But she had a sinking feeling that they’d find out soon enough. They’d see just what kind of monster lurked beneath the surface.

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  4

Aelin awoke just before dawn. She did this more out of habit and a fucked up internal clock from slipping through shadows at night than any desire to be a morning person. 

She dragged herself out of bed and threw on a pair of leggings and a sports bra. Normally, she’d walk around in just that, but not wanting to raise questions about the scars lining her back and torso, she flung the first shirt she could find over her shoulders.

Downstairs, it was quiet, but she wasn’t surprised to find some people already awake. Elide was tapping away on a laptop in the corner, while Rowan was reading a newspaper with glasses perched on the edge of his nose. 

“Nice glasses, grandpa,” she remarked, as she breezed into the living room. She stopped a few feet away from Rowan, eyes scanning the article in front of him. The headline, Strange disappearances in Rifthold was sprawled in large block letters, sending a block of dread into her stomach. 

Rowan dropped the newspaper and turned to scowl at Aelin. “Surprised you’re up before noon,” he said. 

Elide had stopped clicking away to glance up at the two of them warily. 

Aelin shrugged one shoulder, before turning to Elide. “Morning, El. You up to train?”

The brunette frowned at her laptop, then asked, “now? Before breakfast?”

“Who knows when Malakai’s gonna show up? Let’s get started.” When Elide began to stand, Aelin turned once to Rowan and said, “joining us, old man?”

He took off the glasses and leveled her with a glare. 

She smirked at him slightly, then turned to leave. 

Elide left briefly to change, then met Aelin downstairs in the same room they’d been in yesterday. 

Slowly, Aelin led the brunette through some warm ups, before teaching her basic self defense moves. Unsurprisingly, Elide picked them up well and asked more and more questions. What if someone has your arm like this? How do I break out of this hold? Can you show me again?

By the time Aelin called for a break, it was nearing ten a.m. and they could hear voices upstairs. “Sounds like everyone’s waking up,” she said, listening to someone’s cheerful singing. Fenrys. 

Elide was lying down on the mats, her phone pulled out. “That’s good. Malakai and Emrys are gonna be here in around 20 minutes.”

Aelin raised an eyebrow at her. “Elide Lochan, did you hack Malakai’s phone?”

She grinned and showed Aelin her phone, revealing all of Malakai’s texts. “According to Malakai, they’re limiting the information they give us because we’re ‘dangerous criminals who don’t have the good of the nation in mind.’”

Aelin snorted. “That’s more flattering than insulting.”

Elide pushed herself off the mats, to which Aelin held out a hand. “Why are you helping me?” she asked. Her voice was light and curious, but her dark brown eyes were fixed intensely on Aelin. It was enough of a reminder of Elide’s power, sensing lies. 

Carefully, Aelin responded, “you remind me of someone I knew once.” She pushed away thoughts of who that person was and said lightly, “plus, we’re going to be teammates.” 

Elide nodded, accepting Aelin’s small admission as the truth. She didn’t push her for more answers and just said, “let’s find the others.”

They made their way upstairs, finding mostly everyone awake in the kitchen. 

Fenrys kept singing until Lorcan hit him in the back of the head and told him to shut up. Rowan had abandoned the glasses and newspaper in favor of reading something on his phone and pointedly ignoring everyone.

Manon could be seen through the open doorway into the living room. She was also ignoring everyone, menacingly sharpening a dagger on one of the couches. 

Nox and Lys were chatting animatedly at the dining table, with Nesryn silently listening in. Only Dorian was missing from the lot.

Fenrys waved upon noticing them. “Hey, Aelin. Elide. When did you guys wake up?”

“Couple hours ago,” Elide answered. “Aelin here had the bright idea of training before the sun even rose.”

Aelin bumped her hip against Elide’s gently. “Is that judgement, I hear?” 

“So you two are early risers like Rowan?” he asked as he slid over plates of food. 

Briefly thanking him, Aelin took the plate and side eyed Rowan. “I take offense at being compared to Mr. ‘I’m Better Than You.’”

Rowan flipped her off without glancing up from his phone. 

Fenrys smiled uneasily, eyes darting between the two of them. Then, settling back on Aelin, he said, “hey, I’m sorry about the whole kidnapping thing. Start over?”

She smiled as she took a seat beside Elide. “You made me food, so you’re already forgiven.”

The blond sent her a relieved smile. Then, addressing everyone, he said, “Malakai messaged to say he’ll be here soon and he wants to brief us on the mission.”

Elide and Aelin exchanged glances, but didn’t say anything. 

Lys strolled over to join them at the kitchen counter, Nox and Nesryn trailing behind her.

“What do you think this is about? It’s gotta have something to do with the disappearances, right?” Nox asked.

Aelin thought of the headline she’d seen earlier. 

The rest of the room descended into tense silence at his question, until Lys suggested that someone find Dorian. In the end, Nox was sent to find him and he returned with the blue eyed man five minutes later. 

Everyone filed into the living room, just as the main door opened in the distance.

No one stood up to greet Emrys and Malakai as they entered. The two simply strolled right in.

“Hope you’ve all been adjusting,” Emrys greeted kindly. Malakai nodded at them.

“Don’t worry, Emrys,” Aelin began sweetly. “Your prison is oh-so-warm and welcoming.” 

Although Malakai narrowed his eyes at her, Emrys only smiled. “I’m sure that you’ll find one mission in exchange for your freedom a satisfactory deal?”

“You mean it?” Nox asked. “You won’t keep us after we complete whatever this ‘mission’ is?”

“So long as you stay out of trouble,” Malakai cut in. “Continue your previous ways and you’re likely to get a visit from us sooner or later,” he said, glancing over at Aelin. 

She smirked at him. “Well, don’t keep us on our toes, then. What’s this mission?”

Emrys started handing out files, which were subsequently passed around to every member. 

Aelin opened up hers and found a familiar looking face staring back at her. She glanced up and found that Lys had gone pale, eyes fixed at the picture. The very first page was for one Falkan Ennar, who looked quite like his niece.

She turned her gaze back down and continued to flip through, finding several unfamiliar faces. All reported missing. 

Another familiar face emerged, a young woman with light brown skin and dark eyes. Nesryn’s older sister. Could it really be a coincidence that the family members of two of their teammates had gone missing?

Another page, another unfamiliar face. Then, Aelin froze. 

Staring grimly back at her, clad in a military uniform, was Aedion Ashryver.

Her heart stopped. 

All too aware of the people around her, Aelin tried to school her features back into neutrality as she finished looking through the pages and set the file down. She clasped her shaking hands together and set them on her lap.

No one had noticed her, all eyes still fixed on the files. The only one who was watching her carefully was Emrys, gauging her for some reaction. She met his gaze firmly, and his face slipped into a frown. 

He knew. But no one else did. 

Aedion. Her Aedion, missing along with dozens of others. The other half of her coin. Gods , she hadn’t seen him in years. 

Everyone finished reading silently and turned their gaze back to Emrys and Malakai. Lys and Nesryn seemed shaken, not that Aelin blamed them. 

“You understand what’s at stake, I presume,” Emrys said. 

“I don’t understand,” Dorian said, finally. “Why is this a matter of ‘national’ security? What can we do about it?”

“Over a hundred people have vanished within the last 4 weeks. All in similar fashion. Gone without a trace,” Malakai explained. “Not just from Rifthold. Several disappearances have been from Terassen, Fenharrow, Melisande, Eyllwe, Wendlyn, Antica, and many of them are high profile figures. We have reason to suspect that it’s all the same culprit.”

“Do you have any leads?” Aelin asked. 

Emrys pulled out a final file, handing it over to Lorcan. “This has more detailed information on the more recent disappearances.” He briefly explained what was inside, before adding, “you have full access to our resources. Rowan, Fenrys, and Lorcan will remain in contact with us.”

 He left soon after that, leaving the team alone with their thoughts. 

Aelin plastered on her most realistic confident smile, glancing over the papers strewn everywhere, and said, “alright, team. Let’s get to work.”

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  5

The crew spent the next two hours poring over the files, taking a short break for lunch, before returning to the living room to pick up their work. 

There were dozens of missing people and not enough time to investigate each individually. No, they needed to choose a solid lead. Someone who could provide a trail to the culprits. 

“This one,” Aelin said, pointing to a blurry image of a man named Rolfe. “I think we should check this out first. He was one of the most recent disappearances.” Plus, Aelin recognized him. He ran an underground fighting club called Skull’s Bay, which Aelin had been banned from after starting a disastrous bar fight.

“We should check out Senator Darrow first,” Rowan said without even glancing at her. 

She shot him a dark glare, even as alarm bells rang in her brain. Senator Darrow. Why did she feel like she knew that name? “Why do I feel like you shoot down my ideas just to irritate me?” she drawled. 

“I don’t know, but your ideas are shit,” he said coldly. “The Senator’s more-” he cut off.

“-What? Important?” Aelin asked, trying not to bristle at his implication. “He’s a Senator. There’s probably over a dozen cops and detectives on his case already. We’re not going to find anything that they haven’t already.”

Elide chimed in from the corner. “It’s true. I’m pulling up the information the FBI has on him right now. But it’s not a lot.”

Nox leaned over her shoulder, only to be batted away. “Ow,” he muttered.

“Confidential information,” Elide warned sternly. 

“You’re the hacker!” Nox said incredulously. “What do you mean confidential-”

Rowan’s voice interrupted Nox, saying, “this isn’t negotiable. Senator Darrow disappeared recently too, only two weeks ago.”

Aelin sighed through her nose. “Fine. We’ll do two groups.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Dorian asked.

“There’s ten of us. If we all go traipsing around together, it’ll be suspicious. And inefficient,” she said. Aelin contemplated who would do best in the slums of Rifthold where she planned to snoop around. “Alright. I’ll take Manon, Nox, Elide, and…Lys, if you’re all up for it.”

The latter three agreed pretty readily, while Manon gazed at Aelin through narrowed eyes. Eventually, she drawled, “fine. I’m sure it’ll be more interesting than chasing after some stuffy senator.” With a careless glance at Dorian, she added, “no offense.” Though her tone seemed to indicate that she did mean offense.

Dorian grinned lightly and said, “none taken. But as I know most stuffy politicians, I’m probably better off in this group anyway.”

To her utter lack of surprise, Rowan interjected, “I’m not going to allow you to waltz off on your own.”

“Oh?” she raised a brow. “And how will you stop me? Last I checked, you’re not in charge and I’m free to do as I like-”

“-provided that you're completing the mission and following orders,” he added. 

“Which is exactly what we’re doing,” Nox said cheerfully. 

Aelin fought to keep a smile off her face as Rowan’s tipped into a scowl. 

“I think it’s a good idea,” Lorcan said quietly, to her surprise. Although it earned him a glare from Rowan and a stifled laugh from Fenrys. 

Rowan clenched his jaw, then said, “alright. The rest of us are leaving first thing tomorrow morning to get to Terassen.”

The name of her home sent a pulse of pain through her. Terassen, where Aedion had gone missing as well. Later, she promised herself. They’d find Aedion and all the others, but they needed a trail first. 

Nesryn suggested taking advantage of the training rooms with the time they had left.

Meanwhile the cadre - as Aelin had decided to call Rowan, Lorcan, and Fen - left to make a call for arranging transportation. 

Aelin and the others left the living room without cleaning the mess of papers. Everyone filed down the stairs and began to search the other training rooms. They settled in a much larger one than before, with a series of targets off to the side. 

Nesryn grabbed a bow and began to practice target throwing. Not that the dark haired woman needed practice, when her arrows sailed into the bullseye every single time. Nox and Dorian joined her. 

Manon stood near Aelin and Elide, as they began to rehash what Aelin taught Elide earlier. Lys stood hesitantly off to the side, until Aelin gestured her over. 

“You might not always be able to shift into other forms,” Aelin said, “especially if we need to be more subtle. Want to learn a few tricks?”

“Yes,” she said surely. 

Aelin nodded, and Lys joined them. Elide, the quick study, already had enough of a grasp on basic self defense to start teaching Lys the moves from before.

Manon pretended to ignore them, but gave them sharp suggestions every few minutes. “Put your weight behind it when you do it. Curl your fingers in more.” She even stepped in and ordered them to try the moves on her.

Eventually, Aelin drifted away and let the trio continue. Nox turned to face her as she walked towards them. “Hey, Lin,” he said. “Can I call you that?” When Aelin nodded, he continued sheepishly, “do you think you teach us as well? We’re not as good as the others at fighting.”

“Sure,” she said. “Why don’t we try sparring? Nox against Dorian, no powers for now, and I’ll give you tips.”

She spent some time walking them through different fighting techniques and criticizing any of their moves that were weak or too predictable. Aelin drifted back and forth between the groups for a while, but her limbs itched for a fight. 

“Care for that fight now, Blackbeak?” Aelin asked. 

A pair of gold eyes met hers, a spark of interest there instead of the usual cold glare. “Absolutely.” 

“Can you shut up, Fen?” Lorcan grumbled. 

Fen placed a hand to his chest and gasped. “How dare you?” He took a couple long strides to keep up with Rowan and Lorcan. “All I’m saying is, she’s-”

He cut off, as the three of them landed by the metal door frame. They had a clear view of the ring where two women were currently fighting. 

Fen tried not to gape at them, moving so fast they were a blur of blonde and white.

Manon’s sword arched downward, but Aelin ducked and rolled out of the way. She was on her feet again in an instant, daggers in hand. 

“Gonna have to be faster than that, Witchling,” Aelin taunted.

The white haired woman grinned wickedly and struck again. 

Fenrys continued to watch in curiosity. The higher ups, namely Emrys, had given him minimal information about their teammates. He hadn’t even known Manon was in a gang until Aelin had mentioned it in conversation. The Ironteeth Witches. 

Watching Manon fight, he had no doubt that the Witches were deserving of their feared reputation. 

And Aelin…continued to match Manon blow by blow. Every inch her match. She moved inhumanly fast, a slight smirk playing on her lips as she fought. Gods, who was that girl? 

Fen glanced over at his friends - not that they appreciated being called that. No, they’d grumble and cuss him out. But they were all he had left. Especially after - Fenrys cut off the dangerous train of thought lest it send him crashing into a pit of despair. 

Instead, he focused on Rowan. Who was scowling and staring straight at Aelin. 

There was a hierarchy in their little group, mostly due to seniority. Rowan had been at the agency the longest and was often told the most. And whatever he knew about Aelin seemed to have solidified his judgement early on. Fenrys had tried to pry for information, only to receive glares in return. 

He turned back to the ongoing fight. Neither of the women were using their powers. Hell, Fenrys wasn’t even sure what Aelin’s power was. “Good thing they’re on our team. I wouldn’t want to make enemies out of them.”

“That’s cause they’d make mincemeat out of you,” Lorcan muttered. 

Fen grinned. “You think you could take them?”

Lorcan didn’t answer, but Fen assumed the answer was yes. He almost wanted to interrupt the fight to see if either Manon or Aelin would be willing to knock the dark haired man on his ass. So far, only Rowan had accomplished that.

“Don’t be fooled because they’re on our team,” Rowan said. “They’re here because they have to be. They might still betray us.”

“Alright, way to bring down the mood, old man,” Fenrys said. 

Rowan glared at him. 

There was a loud thud as the women toppled to the floor. Aelin’s daggers at Manon’s neck. 

Holy rutting gods.

“Not bad, Blackbeak,” Aelin mused. She stood up abruptly, before offering a hand. 

Manon ignored it and stood swiftly to her feet. “I could say the same to you.”

They climbed down from the ring, noticing Fenrys and the others. Manon gave them all a cool glance and strode past. 

Aelin strolled a bit slower, smirking at Fenrys. She then bumped her shoulder with Rowan’s harshly on her way out, earning her a low growl in response. 

Fenrys only laughed, after both girls vanished from sight. “This is going to be one interesting mission.”

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  6

Dorian fought the urge to yawn for the 5th time as he stared out the window of the private jet. Outside, the morning sky was still gray and dreary, with small slivers of orange peeking out from the heavy clouds.

“Beautiful day,” Fenrys remarked. 

Dorian turned towards him with a light smile, noticing how the blonde’s hair shone even inside the walls of the jet. 

“Not really,” Lorcan grumbled. 

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine?” Dorian said. It earned him a grin from Fenrys, and a scowl from Lorcan. Dorian could live with that. 

Everyone grabbed their small bag of belongings and started to move off the jet. Dorian, in the back of the group, called a ‘thank you’ to the pilot before following the others. 

They descended from the plane, landing on the tarmac. The air in Terrasen carried the briefest scent of pine, courtesy of their wood covered hills. 

“Where to first, boss?” Fenrys asked Rowan cheekily. 

Rowan rolled his eyes and led them to where a car was awaiting on the tarmac. He pulled out a map of Terrasen, red ink drawn across it. 

“He is aware we have things called phones…right?” Nesryn whispered. 

Dorian bit back his laugh. “He’s an old man inside, leave him be.”

“Alright,” Rowan said, as he finally looked up from the map. “We’re going to pay Senator Darrow’s family a visit. Everyone in the car. I’m driving.”

Dorian had met the Senator, several times in fact. Yet, he’d never seen his home. It was a large two-story house in the suburbs. Beautiful and well kept, but surprisingly cozy as well. There was a mess of flowers out front, lining the narrow driveway. 

It had been unanimously decided that Dorian would lead the group, being familiar with the missing man. 

He knocked firmly on the door. It opened within a few seconds. A young woman peered out, looking quite like Darrow. 

Dorian sent her a smile. “I’m Dorian. Havilliard. You must be Senator Darrow’s niece?”

She nodded reluctantly. “Yes, I am. My name is Lilah.”

“I knew your uncle, actually. Me and my…colleagues wanted to ask a few questions regarding his disappearance. If you don’t mind, of course.”

She nodded and opened the door wider. “Come in,” she said. “I’ve already talked to several people about this. Even the FBI. Who are you people?” she said.  

“We’re working with the FBI on this,” Rowan answered. He flashed his badge to the woman, who only nodded. “Just needed to clarify some things.”

“What do you need to know?” she asked, gesturing for them to sit on the couches. 

Lilah took the armchair, the others settling across from her. 

“When and where was Darrow last seen exactly?” Rowan asked. Dorian frowned at him, a bit taken aback by his cold, blunt tone. 

Lilah shifted uncomfortably, but maintained her composure as she answered. “He was last seen at a charity auction in the city. It was in the Kingsflame Hotel, right by the old palace.”

Dorian recalled both places rather vividly. The old palace was a remnant from long ago, having been empty for decades. These days, it was a museum and tourist attraction that was touched up every few years to maintain it.

The legend of kingsflame also came from that era of Terrasen. Legend has it that the kingsflame would only bloom when the rightful ruler was on the throne. A very rare, practically extinct species of flower, there was only one known kingsflame bloom remaining. And it was preserved and on display at the hotel named after it, barely a block from the palace. 

“That was about two weeks ago,” Lilah continued. “He didn’t make it home that night and no one has seen him since.”

“Who was he last seen talking to?”

“I’m not certain. It was a high profile event, so I’m sure he talked to many people over the course of the night.”

“Was he acting strangely before?” Fenrys asked. “Any signs of something being off?”

Lilah shook her head, a puzzled look on her face. “No, nothing.”

“Any enemies?” Rowan asked.

She snorted. “What politician doesn’t have enemies? You kidding me?”

That was the truth if he ever heard it. Dorian’s father had his own list of enemies, except Dorian was sure it was deserved. Hell, maybe Dorian himself should be on the list. There was a lot of bad blood between the two. Dorian could never be the perfect son. Too much of a troublemaker, too rebellious. Not ruthless enough.

Senator Darrow had been a much kinder man, but that didn’t mean he didn’t face opposition. 

Rowan asked several more questions, but Lilah didn’t know much else. 

They prepared to leave rather empty handed after a while. As everyone stood and started to leave, however, Dorian’s eyes caught a picture along the side table.  

“Whose is this in the photo?” Dorian asked. He gently lifted up the frame that had a younger version of Darrow with his arm around another man. 

Lilah smiled softly at the picture, lifting the frame from Dorian’s hands. “It’s Darrow’s husband, Orlon.” 

“I don’t remember ever meeting his husband,” Dorian said. 

“He died nearly a decade ago,” Lilah said. “He was a good man. They both were.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said sincerely. “For what it’s worth, if Senator Darrow is out there, we’ll find him.”

Nesryn nodded, but Rowan simply sent him a scrutinizing glare.

They bade Lilah goodbye, then returned to the car. 

Dorian sat between Fenrys and Nesryn in the backseat, while Lorcan took the passenger seat.

Quietly, but firmly, Nesryn said, “what was that look you sent Dorian inside?”

He tensed slightly, aware of what she was referencing. Yet, he didn't want to ask himself and antagonize Rowan. Disrupting the peace so early in their mission seemed dangerous.

Rowan simply muttered, “nothing.”

“You think the Senator’s dead, don’t you?” she demanded. There was an edge to her voice Dorian hadn’t heard, but she wasn’t yelling. She didn’t need to. 

Rowan didn’t answer, and Dorian felt his insides churn. He couldn’t help but remember when Aelin had made a promise to Lys, so similar to his own words inside. Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Rowan had said. 

No one answered. Everyone knew what it meant if Rowan said yes. If the missing people were all dead…so was Nesryn’s older sister. 

“Why kidnap all these people to kill them? They have to serve some purpose?” she said.

“That’s a fair point,” Fenrys admitted. “The agency does think there’s some deeper agenda. If whoever’s behind this wanted these people dead, they would likely do it publicly. Why keep things secret?”

Dorian glanced at the rear view mirror, where Rowan’s mouth was visibly pressed into a thin line. 

“Sure,” he finally said. 

Nesryn wasn’t convinced, but didn’t argue. 

Dorian cleared his throat in the tense silence. “Why don’t we visit the Kingsflame Hotel next? See if any staff noticed something or if surveillance cameras picked anything up?”

“That’s a good idea,” Fenrys said.

“I hear they have a good bakery too,” he said to Nesryn. She nodded, and the two spent the rest of the trip talking about their favorite baked goods. Nesryn described several desserts from her home town in the Southern Continent, while Fenrys chimed in from time to time. 

It was a measly attempt to discuss lighter topics, and the tension still loomed over them. 

Dorian wanted to remain optimistic. But a small part of him couldn’t help but fear Rowan was right. 

Maybe there was no hope to rescue those people. Maybe Dorian wouldn’t be able to keep his promise. But he’d sure as hell try.

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  7

Aelin snaked around the tables, dodging puddles of alcohol and drunken men as she did. Skull’s bay was a grimy, underground bar. It was always dark with dim lighting, and tacky skull decorations everywhere.

“Should have ordered an interior designer or something,” Aelin mumbled, as she kicked a skull out of her way. “This is just sad.”

Lys huffed a laugh. “Can’t say I disagree.” The brunette stuck close to Aelin, shying away from all the glances she was getting from men and women alike.

Nox hovered a few feet behind them, while Manon and Elide brought up the rear. “Think they got these from a costume shop?” Nox asked.

Aelin knelt quickly and grabbed the skull that she’d kicked, examining it closely. “I think they’re real, actually,” she said. She sent Nox a wicked grin, as he paled. 

“Oh,” he muttered. “Lovely.”

She swallowed her laugh and continued glancing around. There was a bar behind which stood the only good piece of decoration, if a bit out of place. A large tapestry. Beyond the bar was a backdoor, through which Aelin got a glimpse of a crowd and heard thundering cheers. That’s where the pit fights happened. 

Manon, as familiar with the place as Aelin, had already begun stalking towards the door. More specifically, beyond the rings where a corridor of offices was waiting. Elide and Lys followed after her, Aelin having already instructed them on what to do.

“Nox, you talk to the barkeeps. Ask about Rolfe, but be subtle and do not mention who we work for,” she said. 

He set off together, and Aelin watched him weave through the crowd to wind up at the bar.

Aelin made her way to a busy corner, searching for Rolfe’s right hand man. She finally noticed wine red hair in the crowd, loudly boasting to a group of men about having won at cards. 

Shaking her head in amusement, Aelin strode over to the table. “Your game’s over boys,” she said, leaving no room for argument. 

One man protested, but a sharp look from her and one from the red headed women quieted him.

As the men scattered, Aelin took a seat and grinned. “Hey Annie, deal me in.”

Ansel mirrored her sharp grin, before handing out several cards. “You sure you want to play? I’ve been on a winning streak lately.”

“You always were good at cheating,” she shot back. 

Ansel clicked her tongue. “Can you blame me? The men are stupid, they never catch on.” The game began as Ansel laid out a couple cards on the table. “Plus, aren't you banned from this lovely establishment?”

“I started a bar fight. Rolfe wasn’t amused,” Aelin said. “Last I saw you, though, you were with the Silent Assassins. How’d you end up here?”

“The Silent Master kicked me out,” Ansel said. 

The fact didn’t surprise Aelin. Ansel had always been stirring up trouble, which Aelin had gladly participated in during her time spent training there. She supposed it was only a matter of time. 

“Where is Rolfe by the way?” Aelin said. “He’s usually at the bar or inside watching the fights.”

Ansel’s eyes met hers, a light golden brown. There was a scar running through one of her eyebrows that Aelin recognized. She turned her attention back to the cards before muttering tensey, “gone. Disappeared about a week ago.”

She faked surprise. “Gone?” Aelin laid down a poor set of cards, allowing Ansel to win temporarily. “What do you think happened?”

Ansel shrugged, then hesitated. History or not, she wouldn’t be likely to trust Aelin with anything she knew. They weren’t really friends. 

Aelin didn’t push for answers, simply played the game in silence. After a while, Ansel said, “there was a man snooping around. His name was Perrington. Our cameras caught him lingering near the corridor with our offices. We had some spies follow him, but they lost his trail.”

She hummed. “Perrington. Why does the name sound familiar?” she said. 

Ansel sent her a wary glance. “Have you heard of him?”

“Maybe. I can ask around,” she said. She hadn’t heard of him truthfully, but she just needed more information. “Where did your spies lose the trail?”

“Why do you need to know?” Ansel said coldly.

Aelin laid down a winning set of cards with a flourish. “I don’t. Nice seeing you, Annie. Maybe one of these days, you’ll actually win at a game.” She had just risen to her feet when Ansel told her to wait. 

The red head quickly pulled out a piece of paper and scrawled an address on it, before handing it over. “I doubt you’ll find anything my spies didn’t.”

“Don’t bet money on it,” she intoned, before turning to leave. 

Nox met her halfway, reporting that the barkeeps had seen nothing of interest. “What now?”

“We wait for the others. And grab some tequila while we wait.”

Five minutes later, Nox and Aelin were waiting in the alley outside Skull’s Bay with a stolen bottle of alcohol between them. 

“That invisibility is a neat trick,” she remarked, taking a swig. 

Nox chuckled. “I’m a good enough thief without it, but it certainly helps. Speaking of,” he sent her a curious glance. “What exactly is your gift?”

She didn’t answer, just passed over the bottle to him. 

“Alright, I guess I won’t ask again,” he said. “You want to know something?” he continued. When she still didn’t respond, he said, “I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“In Rifthold? At Skull’s Bay?”  

“With the agency,” he said. 

“You could always turn invisible, slip away,” she offered. Aelin had debated fleeing herself, especially since Rowan and his group weren’t supervising them currently. Missing people or not, it wasn’t her job to save them. 

She just couldn’t shake the thought of Aedion. Gods, they’d been inseparable as children. Although three years older than her, Aedion had been her best friend, her brother. She didn’t plan on ever seeing him again, but if he was in trouble…

Nox shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe this is a chance to do something good for once? Stop running and face facts, I guess.”

Aelin sent him an incredulous glance. “How noble,” she drawled. “Reformed thief steps in to save the nation.”

He bumped her shoulder, but chuckled nonetheless. “Shut up.” As he ran a hand through his unruly brown curls, Aelin couldn’t help but remember Sam. 

“Shut up,” Sam said. He chuckled lightly, when Aelin only flipped him off. “Come on, Ae, let’s just finish the job.”

“Why don’t I get to kill him?”

He ran his hands through his hair with an exasperated huff. “You’re the distraction.”

She scowled at him. “Fine.”

“I don’t want to admit this, but I’m a bit frightened,” he said quietly. He took a large swig of his drink, and Aelin sighed thinly. 

“You remind me of someone,” Aelin admitted softly. She didn’t look at Nox, even as he sent her a startled glance. “And he had this saying he taught me. My name is Aelin, and I will not be afraid. It’s dumb, but sometimes it helps.”

Nox just nodded and repeated the phrase. He didn’t ask about Sam, for which she was grateful. 

The rest of their time ticked by in silence, until a trio of women exited the bar and sought them out. 

“Drinking without me?” Lys asked in mock offense, holding out a hand for the bottle. Aelin rolled her eyes and handed it over.

“Find anything, ladies?”

“Yup,” Elide chirped. “You?”

“Yeah,” she said, thinking of the piece of paper in her pocket. “Let’s head back.”

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  8

Elide followed after Manon, diving into the crowd watching the pit fights. Lys’ hand sought out hers, connecting the girls amidst the chaos that thrived around them. 

Manon strode confidently ahead, never checking to ensure the other two were still with her. She wore dark colored jeans and a leather jacket. Her white hair had been tied into a ponytail that swished with every move. On her feet were large combat boots.

All in all, she looked intimidating. And every inch like she belonged here. People moved out of her way almost unconsciously, creating a path for Elide to follow. 

Lys wrapped her arm tighter around Elide’s elbow, supporting her enough that her limp was less pronounced. They’d had to walk quite a bit through crowded sidewalks to get here, and her foot had already begun to ache. 

She’d been twelve when she broke it. The bone had never healed right, and the skin there was left twisted and scarred. On good days, she barely felt it. On bad days…

Elide shook off the thoughts of her ankle. It only served to remind her of what she was running from. Who she was running from.

They finally reached a shadowy alcove, where the noise of the place faded away. Manon turned to face them, golden eyes meeting theirs. 

“You’re up,” she told Lys.

Lys nodded and steeled her expression. Elide watched in surprise, as her face quickly morphed into a different one. With wine red hair and hazel eyes, the woman who was currently sitting outside with Aelin.

 Falling in step behind Lys, they dove deeper in Skull’s Bay. The hall narrowed at the end, the linoleum tiles and cool, flickering lights giving way to a wooden staircase that descended into the lower level.

“This was built in the 1800s,” Elide murmured. She’d looked up the place earlier. “The lower levels were military barracks, ammunition storage actually. It was abandoned and vacated, but they must be using that space.”

She faltered only for a second at the pit of darkness that threatened to envelope them.

Manon’s gaze flicked to her for a second, lingering as Elide hesitated. Even as Elide steeled her nerves and stepped forward, she could feel that burning gaze on her. 

Down Elide went, each step reverberating through her ankle with a jolt of pain. It was too narrow for them to stand side by side, so Manon filed in behind Elide with Lys in the rear.

At the bottom, they found themselves in a sort of tunnel with two forks, both as dark and ominous as the other. 

A man arrived from the right fork.

Lys, still appearing as Ansel, sent the man passing them a brief nod, and he nodded back.  

Elide forced herself to continuously take deep breaths and kept her face neutral. She wasn’t the best actress, but being able to detect lies certainly taught her how to not get caught easily. 

He slipped past them and kept going, his footsteps fading out behind him.

They went into the tunnel he’d arrived from, until the door they were looking at came into sight. 

Now Lys shifted again, this time into Rolfe. Her baggy jeans and jacket filled out, and her face morphed into the one they’d seen in photos. A roguish smile, a scar through one eyebrow, a crooked nose, stubble. 

She pressed her finger to the pad. There was a tense moment, then a beep sounded with a flash of green. She sighed and twisted the handle, the door swinging open. “I wasn’t sure if that would work,” she said. “Never tried.”

They stepped inside, and Lys turned on the light switch. The office was suddenly awash with a dim glow. 

The inside of the office was clean, nothing like the grimy tunnel outside. Wood paneling lined the walls, and a mahogany desk was up against the back wall. Beyond it, was a large map with sea routes scrawled in red ink. 

A globe was toppled over. Papers spilling out of their folders. 

The girls split up, Lys heading over to the papers to scan through them. 

“What am I looking for?” she asked.

Elide wasn’t certain herself. “Aelin said to just take pictures of anything with a recent date.”

Lys nodded, and quickly took to taking photos on her phone. Manon trailed around the room, nudging objects aside lazily as she did. 

Meanwhile, Elide went straight for the computer sitting on Rolfe’s desk. She turned it on, and got to work. Hacking into his system was easy, and the familiar pattern of it was almost soothing. 

For a long time, this was all Elide had. Her and her computers. They were far more trustworthy than humans and rarely lied to her, after all. Why wouldn’t she prefer their company?

Once she was in, she pored through his most recent emails. 

She pulled out her flashdrive and inserted it, quickly downloading anything relatively recent. After going through the last four weeks worth of communication, she sighed and closed out. Nothing had stood out to her, but maybe Aelin would spot something different.

Elide scanned over the desktop, eyes halting at the untitled folder on the top right corner. Her interest snagged and she clicked on it. The file opened up to a series of photos. They looked like they’d been taken from a security camera, but the location wasn’t familiar to her. It must not have been from Skull’s Bay. 

In the photos, a man was gradually approaching the front door of an apartment building. In the fifth photo, there was a clear shot of his face. Bushy dark eyebrows and pale eyebrows, lips pursed tightly, all from underneath a black baseball cap. 

Totally not suspicious. Elide downloaded the images to the flashdrive.

When she was done, she removed and pocketed the flashdrive. Lys tucked her phone away, having shifted back into her own body. 

“We good?” Elide asked.

Lys nodded, and Manon didn’t respond. I’ll take that as a yes.

The three girls straightened anything they’d touched and started to leave the office. Elide barely made it out the door, her ankle catching on the frame at the bottom. It rolled underneath her, and she stumbled. Lightning quick, Manon had grabbed her wrist to stabilize her. 

Her fingers were tight around her wrist, but not tight enough to hurt. The skin there, however, felt like it was burning, the nerves there alight. 

Elide didn’t like the feeling. She cleared her throat, and said, “There’s a side exit this way.”

Manon’s grip tightened around her wrist, and Elide fought off a shiver. “There’s no exit this way,” she said. Her voice was hard as metal. 

Elide shook off her grip and led them a few meters further, even as her ankle throbbed. She pushed a wooden panel aside, revealing a long wooden ramp that would bring them back up to ground level. She sent her a sly smirk. “You were saying?”

Manon leaned back onto her heels, eyes wary as she examined the ramp.

“How’d you know?” Lys asked, peering inside. 

“I looked up this place. I told you, it used to be a military bunker. They had floor plans attached. Of course, this could have been boarded up since then. It was just a hunch,” she explained. 

Lys stepped inside and began walking up ahead of them. 

Elide lingered, only to find Manon’s gaze on her. It did that a lot, and Elide wasn’t sure to be unnerved or flattered. Probably unnerved, if the woman’s predatory, cold gaze was any indication. 

“Is your ankle alright?” Manon finally asked. Though her voice was still cold and flat.

Elide startled. She had been trying her best to mask the limp and the fact that it had been bothering her. Though, she supposed, they already knew about her ankle so it wasn’t hard to miss if you were observant. 

And Manon clearly was observant.

“Fine,” she said. Her tone left little room for discussion. 

Manon sent her a knowing look. “You’re not a good liar,” she declared. And followed Lys, leaving Elide in the dust.

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  9

They had taken a little detour. It had been Aelin’s idea. A) to have some fun, and B) to see just how much she could piss Rowan off when he learned where they went.

Nox was already drunk, having also had half of the tequila bottle he stole from Skull’s Bay. Lys was on her way, as well.

Manon was casually sipping vodka, but much like Aelin, was still sober. Leaving Elide the only truly sober person. And probably the only rational person there, though Aelin figured that had less to do with the drinks. 

“Do you two want to play darts with me?” Nox asked Manon and Elide.

“No,” Manon deadpanned.

Elide eyed him warily. “I don’t think you should be trusted with darts.”

“What?” he stretched out the syllables as he stood. “Come on, I’m not that drunk. I also have very good aim,” he added, with a wink. 

“Someone hit him,” Lys said. 

Elide, who was closest, whacked him upside the head. 

A slight smile crept onto Aelin’s lips at Nox’s sound of outrage, and even Manon smirked lightly.

“Fine,” Manon said. “Let’s see what you got.” She downed her glass in one go without so much as a grimace, then strode towards the back corner where the dart board was.

Nox cheered and followed, but wasn’t as nimble in slipping through the crowd. Instead, he repeatedly bumped into people, before apologizing. 

Elide sighed. “I don’t trust Manon with darts either. If she kills someone, do you think Emrys will cover for us?”

“In a crowded bar, with dozens of witnesses?” Aelin asked. “Why don’t we find out?”

She was joking, mostly, but Elide still sent her a warning glance before standing. Aelin watched her slip through the crowd, her leg slowing her down a bit. Once she was with the others in the corner, Aelin turned back to her drink.  

“Hey Aelin?” Lys asked. 

She hummed in response, twirling her drink. 

“Do you have siblings?”

Aelin stilled, unsure how to answer. “No…but I used to have a cousin who was like a brother to me.”

“Used to?”

“We don’t see each other much,” Aelin lied, glad Elide wasn’t around to spot the lie. The truth was that she hadn’t seen Aedion since she was seven. Thinking about him reminded her of their current mission, the thoughts eddying into a nervous spiral in her chest. She downed half her glass. 

Lys didn’t seem to notice Aelin’s nerves. “I have a sister. Evangeline. She’s adopted, but…Emrys said we had to cut contact to keep her safe. I’m nervous though, what if someone goes after her? I mean my Uncle’s gone, you know?”

“Who’s she staying with then?”

“Family friends.”

Aelin nodded, sneaking another glance over to where Elide was standing with the others. Manon threw a dart that landed smoothly in the center of a target, while Nox cheered. 

“Alright,” Aelin started. “Follow me.”

“Wait, what?”

Lys stumbled after her as they wove through the crowd. Casually, Aelin bumped into one of the men playing poker at a nearby table. The man bristled, but Aelin apologized sweetly with a hand placed against his chest.

The other hand swiftly pocketed his phone.

Aelin pulled Lys into a small empty hallway, where the clamor was slightly muffled. She fished out the phone and handed it over. 

Lys raised an eyebrow at her. “Emrys said-”

“-what Emrys doesn’t know won’t hurt him. This isn’t your phone. He can’t track you.”

After a moment of hesitation, Lys took the phone and dialed a number from memory. She placed it to her ear and waited, before perking up. 

“Eva?” A voice responded something, too low for Aelin to catch. “Where are you? Oh, alright. No, I know. I’m okay, don’t worry about me. I’m trying to find Uncle. Just be careful, okay?”

Another pause while Lys listened. “I can’t tell you that. I’ll be back before you know it though. I love you.”

When she ended the call, reluctantly, Aelin took the phone back from her. 

“Thanks.”

Aelin only nodded. She deleted the last call from the man’s call history, before saying, “we should probably return the phone. How are you at poker?”

“So good,” Lys said. “Well it was strip poker in highschool, so maybe not.”

“Good enough,” she told her, as they made their way back inside. 

Elide was losing. Though at least, she hadn’t almost killed someone. 

Nox had tried to throw a dart and it went a bit sideways, slipping past someone’s head and into their drink. They had been a little mad, but one glare from Manon had them keeping quiet in their seat. 

“Teach me your ways,” Nox said, as Manon landed another dart right through the center of the target. 

“I don’t think you have the brain cells.”

Nox snorted, though Elide could tell Manon was, in fact, not joking. She didn’t the

woman was capable of that. 

“It’s the tequila’s fault.”

“It’s the genetics' fault.”

Nox nodded solemnly at that. “True. I do have shit genetics.”

Elide sighed in his direction, before grabbing his elbow and tugging him towards the bar. “We’re getting you some water.”

He nodded and wrapped an arm over her shoulder. Elide tensed, unused to the close contact. Her skin crawled, but Nox stumbled alongside her oblivious. 

She swallowed and made her way through the crowd. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Manon following them with a light scowl. 

At the bar, Elide asked the bartender for water. Nox didn’t remove his arm, until Manon warned him to do so. 

Nox blinked once in their direction, before removing his arm. “Sorry.” He added an apologetic grin. 

Elide relaxed a bit once there were a few inches between them. She watched as Nox drank the water. He seemed harmless enough. To her. After all, Emrys wouldn’t have chosen him if the man wasn’t skilled. 

She had seen his file. Nox had over a dozen thefts under his name, and that was just what they could connect to him. Some of those were high profile people with enough security to rival the president’s house. 

The files were limited. Names, known family, crimes (if any). The agents -Lorcan, Fenrys, and Rowan- only had standard employee files. How long they’d been working, some past missions. 

Manon and Aelin had barely enough to fill half a page. No last names. No known family. Just their ‘associations.’ Names of other criminals, Elide assumed. None that were familiar to her, but she kept them in the back of her mind. 

Elide tried not to pry too much. She skimmed the information to prepare herself. But she wouldn’t want people knowing her business, so admittedly she regretted snooping. Only a little. 

She glanced over at Manon’s side profile. The tense jaw, tapered in a sharp line that could cut glass. The long white blonde lashes, the burning amber gaze. Elide wanted to know more about her. All the things the agency didn’t, all the things that couldn’t fit into measly files.

Manon glanced over, sensing her gaze. She raised a perfectly arched brow in her direction. “Something interesting?” the woman asked, a slight smirk playing on her lips. 

Elide startled and looked away with a shake of her head. “No.”

“I told you you’re a bad liar.”

Before Elide could respond, Aelin and Lys wound up beside them by the bar. 

“Ready to go?” Aelin asked. “Whitethorn is back apparently and pissed that we’re gone.”

“Wasn’t that your goal for the night?” Elide asked. 

Aelin smirked. “I can neither confirm nor deny that. Let’s roll.”

Together, Aelin and Elide hauled Nox off his seat. Nox slung his over Aelin, rambling about nonsense while they strode off together. Lys fell into place beside Elide and Manon, which Elide was infinitely grateful for. 

Manon was quiet as they walked back, the only sound was Aelin and Nox’s conversation drifting back to them. 

They made it back to headquarters, the large house starting to feel familiar. Temporary or not, it was more of a home than Elide had ever had. 

Agent Whitethorn was awaiting them in the living room. Salvaterre and Moonbeam hovered behind him, the former with a neutral face and the latter with an easy grin as he waved at them.

“Had fun?” Rowan asked, jaw tense. 

This should be good, Elide thought.

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  1 0

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

Aelin sighed. “You’ve already said that five times, Agent.”

Agent Whitethorn was currently standing in their living room. A tense and irritated expression lingered on his face. Shame. Aelin might have even considered him handsome, if he didn’t have that stick up his ass.

It was the two of them, Agent Salvaterre, Agent Moonbeam, Elide, and Manon in the living room. Rowan had been notably pissed off at Nox being drunk and had merely sent him a disgusted look as he stumbled towards his room.

Lys had slipped off with Nox, leaving Elide and Manon by Aelin’s side to explain to the agents what had happened. 

“Hand me the address,” he said.

“Well since you asked nicely,” Aelin said with faux sweetness, as she handed over the paper. “I don’t suppose you found anything investigating Senator Darrow’s disappearance?”

It was Fenrys who said, “No, nothing. Just dead ends.”

Elide raised an eyebrow at Rowan, gaze razor sharp. Clearly Aelin had done something right to win an ally in her. To Rowan’s credit, he just ignored Elide’s stare as he scanned the address on the paper. 

“Alright,” he said begrudgingly. “Let’s check it out.”

“Now?” Fen said incredulously. “Come on, Ro. A man needs his beauty sleep.”

“No amount of beauty sleep can help you,” Rowan monotoned. 

She resisted the urge to smile at Fenrys’ affronted expression. 

“You ladies think I’m pretty, no?”

Elide brushed off the question with, “I’m calling it in for the night. You lot have fun.” She started towards the stairs, limp more pronounced after the long night. Manon’s gold eyes tracked her all the way, which Aelin noticed with curiosity. 

“Well, then,” Aelin drawled. “Shall we, agents?”

Rowan strolled out, without another word. Fen groaned, but followed. Aelin and Manon fell into step behind them. 

It was well past midnight by the time they reached the address. 

They walked down narrow alleys in the slums of Rifthold, the shadows clinging to brick walls on either side of them. Most of the buildings here were run down houses or trashy inns. There was broken glass on the ground, which she nimbly avoided. 

Aelin halted at the place, examining the narrow stairs that led up to a dilapidated house. Another thin alley beyond it. “This is where they lost the trail on Perrington.”

“Should we check out the house?” Fen asked. “Where would he vanish?”

She exchanged a glance with Manon. “If I were a criminal trying to lose a trail,” she winked at Rowan, “I’d use that fire escape,” she said, pointing to the ladder by the wall, “or the alley.”

He hesitated. “Fine. You’re with me.” So I can keep an eye on you, his eyes said. She tried not to roll her eyes. “You two,” he said to the others, “scope the house and the roof.”

Aelin slipped away, stepping around the corner. Her eyes scanned the path for a trail, and lingered on the muddy footprints still lingering on the cement. Leading up to…oh, fuck. She stilled as Rowan reached her.

His thin sigh told her that he’d reached the same conclusion. 

“Hope you wore good shoes,” Aelin said, before crouching down and lifting the metal plate. Immediately, the stale smell of the sewers drifted up to her and she cringed. She was plenty used to the sewers as a get away technique, though she hated it there.

Though the last time she’d stepped foot down there…

“Enjoy,” the man’s voice sneered, before he disappeared.  

Aelin struggled with the rope around her wrists, regretting this mission she was on already. How did things go so sideways?

Then she heard it. Roaring water. She turned her head, just in time to see the rippling water flooding down the sewers. It reached her chair, soaking her shoes and the bottom of her pants. 

Panic fluttered through her veins, at the thought of drowning here. With one last twist of her wrists, her hands were free and she shot out of the chair. The water was already up to her knees as she splashed in search of an exit. 

Water up to her waist. She finally found a sewer grate that wouldn’t budge…until a familiar voice drifted towards her. 

Aelin cut off the memory before she could get there. The only thing more painful than the memory of almost drowning was thinking of him. 

She realized she’d zoned out for a second, eyes staring below her, when Rowan scoffed and nudged her out of the way.

“Scared of the sewers, princess?” he clambered down. 

Aelin felt a bolt of anger jostle through her, jaw clenched. She resisted the urge to snap back at him, instead steeling her nerves as she climbed down after him. She dropped the ground, the impact reverberating up her legs.

They walked down the tunnel, their surroundings dark.

She spotted something dark lining the walls and crouched to examine it. It was darkly colored, practically black. The parts that weren’t dry were viscous, slowly oozing down. It looked like oil.

Up ahead, she could see more patches of the same and followed the trail. Rowan was silent behind her, for which she was grateful. 

In the distance, Aelin heard a low keening sound. One that didn’t sound human. Her and Rowan exchanged a glance, and continued. 

The trail of the black substance led them straight towards the sound, which had only gotten louder. 

They halted as they reached a corner, the sounds merely feet away. Aelin peered around the corner, Rowan leaning over her to do the same. 

Aelin’s eyes focused on the arm first. Bloody and mangled…and detached from whatever body it had belonged to. Her hand reached for a weapon. Then she realized just what had done the detaching. Gnawing on the arm like a chew toy was a large creature, half hidden in the shadows.

It was shaped like a hound, only six feet tall with long fangs that emerged from its drooping jaw. And its skin was gray, dappled with darker flecks throughout. Almost stone-like.

A hand tightened around her upper arm. Aelin glanced up to see Rowan watching the tunnel beyond them. A low rumble echoed from the darkness, and she straightened as they backed away. 

A snarl erupted from the darkness, and they turned and ran. 

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, but the stampede of the creature’s paws drowned it out. She took a peak over her shoulder at the creature, only to watch as it careened to one side of the tunnel. Its paws scrambled for purchase on…ice. 

She watched Rowan, who had cast out his powers without breaking a stride. Her own fire dwelled deep inside, flickering as if signaling it was there. Instinctively, she forced it back down under layers of stone. 

The stone hound quickly regained its footing and chased after them. 

Aelin scanned the tunnel ahead, trying to recognize where they were. “Here,” she called, turning right around the bend. 

Rowan kept pace beside her, but the creature was close behind. 

She ducked into a narrow alley on their left. It was a dead end, she knew, but deep enough and narrow enough for the creature not to follow. Rowan slipped in behind her, though he had to do so sideways to fit his broad shoulders. 

The stone hound slowed near the opening and sniffed at it, a single red eye appearing to stare them down. Then it continued on its way.

Aelin took a couple of deep breaths, cringing as they carried the stench of the sewers with them. She glanced over at Rowan, opposite her. They were barely three inches apart, too close for comfort. 

Pine green eyes met hers for a second, and her breath caught. She was four and running down hills of snow, a forest of pine looming ahead of her. The sun cascading down on the glittering snow and filtering through pine needles.

She tore her gaze away, still breathing heavily.

Aelin peered out the alleyway, checking if the coast was clear, before she stepped outside. Rowan followed her, silent as he examined the trail the creature seemed to leave behind.

“Thoughts?” she said, when it became apparent he wasn’t saying anything.

“We need a sample of whatever the fuck this was,” he said, attention fixed on the black slime coating the ground. 

“Alright. Let’s just get out of here. For the record,” she added, “this is why I hate the sewers. You’d think they would be less eventful.”

Agent Whitethorn didn’t respond, which suited Aelin just fine.

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  1 1

Aelin was a bit on edge, her mind swirling with thoughts of large hounds with armored skin and dark sludge. She was filled with nervous energy, at once stressed by the danger and bored by the lack of it.

When was the last time she’d gone this long without a fight? Without a mission from Arobynn? She shut off thoughts of the red-haired man as soon as they entered her brain, but it didn’t help her feelings. 

Training with the others could only blow off so much steam. 

She briefly considered picking a fight with one of the Cadre, just for the sake of a challenge. A look over at Rowan’s tense shoulders made her reluctantly drop the idea. 

Instead, she returned her attention to the girls sparring before her. She watched their moves carefully. Lysandra was hesitant and packed little power into her moves. Elide was more sure, but her left leg was an obvious weakness as she stumbled over it. Nonetheless, they were doing better.

The others were all in the same training room for a mandatory session Rowan had implemented. He mostly alternated between brooding in a corner, barking out corrections to Fenrys, and sparring with Lorcan. 

If asked whether Aelin’s eyes were consistently drawn to the asshole on a power trip, she would vehemently deny it. 

“Want to spar with me, love?” Fenrys called.

Aelin smirked at him. The man had reverted to his infuriating nickname, but Aelin had stopped correcting him. “That eager to lose? If so, ask Salvaterre.”

“I’m flattered,” Lorcan deadpanned. 

“Don’t get too excited.”

Fen’s expression hadn’t shifted from its mischievous grin as he glanced between the two of them. 

“Isn’t this training?” Nox interrupted. “Why does it matter who wins?”

“Because she’s a sore loser,” Lys piped up. 

Aelin flipped her off, despite the fact that it was the truth. Lys had learned the hard way during their poker game the other day, during which Aelin had lost one round and proceeded to cheat her way through all the others. 

A vivid memory rippled through her brain. One of Arobynn saying coldly, “second place is just another phrase for first loser.”

Everyone had slowed down or stopped by this point. 

“I’d love to see round two of you and Whitethorn,” Fenrys remarked. What a shit disturber. He sent Rowan a cocky grin. “I’ve never seen anyone hold him off that long.”

Aelin examined her nails. “I find that it’s always good to take men down a few notches.”

Fen’s grin only widened as he glanced back between Aelin’s bored, smug look and Rowan’s tense one.

“Now, now,” Dorian drawled, “there’s no need to fight, children.”

“There’s every reason to fight,” Aelin countered. “But perhaps another day.”

“You’re on, princess,” Rowan muttered, voice laced with a challenge. That damned nickname had Aelin’s rage flickering up, but she tamped down. You can fight him another day.

“Actually, I was curious about that. You didn’t use your power when you were fighting him, though he used his,” Nox added, puzzled. “In fact, you’re the only one who never mentioned your power,” Nox said.

Aelin stiffened, as the others fell quiet around her. Everyone’s curiosity seemed piqued, except for Rowan who was stoic and Elide who was simply concerned. 

“Does it matter?” she said coolly. 

“Isn’t that why you were recruited?” he continued.

“That, and other reasons. Not that it matters, I don’t use my power.”

“Why not?”

Nox seemed genuinely baffled, and Aelin bit her tongue sharply enough that she tasted blood. 

“Because I don’t, Nox. Just drop it,” she tried to keep an even tone, but judging by the way he winced, it only partially worked.

“Alright,” Lys announced. “Moving on. Another round, El.”

“One more,” Elide agreed, and following their lead, everyone fell back into place. 

Nox sent her an apologetic glance, but didn’t say anything else. 

By the end of training, Aelin could still taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth. 

She spent two additional hours in the room after everyone left. Despite knowing that there was work to be done, she currently found it more productive to toss her emotions at the helpless punching bag. 

Her thoughts were full of flames. The burning crimsons that fascinated her so much as a child. The fire that flickered underneath her skin, till she could feel every inch of skin flush with the warmth. 

Aelin tamped it down.

She became aware of someone lingering in the door behind her, their footsteps barely noticeably. 

“Like what you see, Whitethorn?” she called, without turning around. 

“What I s ee is a coward,” he said, coldly. 

The flames were back, itching to be released. But she ignored them, her back still to Rowan as she forced her expression back into neutrality. Coward. 

“You should train with it,” he said.

She said nothing. 

“It’s a skill that you shouldn’t discard lightly,” he continued. “You can’t hide just because you’re scared, princess .”

At the mocking words, she whirled around to face him. His expression revealed nothing but disinterest. 

“I know you used it during the fight,” he added. “You have some control over it.”

Control . She fucking hated that word. 

“I can handle a tiny flame. I fail to see how that would be useful,” she spat. 

“Anything can be a weapon.”

She smirked at that. “Of course. And I have many weapons in my arsenal, Whitethorn. I don’t need another to be deadly.”

“I’m sure you don’t, Celaena .”

Aelin tensed at the name. Rowan sent her a cruel smirk at her reaction, which was clearly what he had wanted in the first place. 

Dredging up every ounce of bravado she had, she said, “you know a lot about me.” And batting her lashes, “I’m flattered.”

He rolled his eyes. “I make it a habit to know the people I’m going to work with. Can’t have you being a liability.”

“How romantic.”

He scowled, and she grinned as irritation finally showed on his stoic face. “Cut the shit.”

“Next time you want to spar a bit, let’s actually fight shall we? Words are boring,” she added, with a wicked grin. And she strode past him, out of the training room. 

Aelin made it upstairs, torn between seething and triumph. Part of her saw the merit in learning to use it, but a larger part was scared. There, a coward. She could admit it, at least to herself.

Once she’d showered (with ice cold water to combat the burning of her skin) and tumbled into bed, she felt a familiar darkness sweeping over her. And even before she succumbed to sleep, she knew that her dreams would be full of memories and flames.

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  1 2

Her pulse thundered with the sound of heavy footsteps chasing her. 

She was running barefoot down a narrow dirt path. Branches tugged at the sleeves of her nightgown and drew thin cuts on her exposed skin. They rattled under the force of the wind, as rain pelted down around her. 

Aelin stumbled over a slick tree root, sharp pain ricocheting up her ankle. Tugging her foot free from the mud, she began to run again. Her blood was still racing in her ears, but was soon overcome by the distant sound of churning river. 

All she could make out before her was dim shadows of trees (their spindly fingers reaching for her, whispering for her to give in) and the watery haze of a storm. Her gown was soaked, sticking close to her skin. She was alone, convinced that she would die tonight in these woods. 

She slowed down as she reached the steep cliff leading down to the river bank. Behind her, a man’s voice was lost in the din of the storm. But his tone was clear, a warning. She scrambled down the rocky terrain. 

When she was almost at the bottom, her foot slipped, and she plunged downwards into the darkness. 

She braced herself for the sting of icy water, but instead found herself in murky water. 

Aelin was drowning in filth. Copper bloomed on her tongue, the screams still trapped in her throat. Rainwater was pouring in above her, filling the sewers faster, and she winced as the muck brushed against her skin. 

Would Sam ever find her body? Surely, no one else would care if she met her end here. 

Her hands finally reached the grate, her vision tunneling into darkness, and fumbled to shove it up. It opened with a clang. When her hands gripped the edge, and she pulled herself up, the world seemed to tilt sideways with a jolt. 

The air was suddenly humid and acrid, smoke surrounding her. Aelin bit back a cry as she hauled herself out from beneath the smoking planks of wood. 

The heat sent searing pain through her hands, which was ignored as she tumbled to the ground. Flames burning around, ash dancing on the edge of her tongue. She spat out crimson. It was only when she heard the sharp crack of wood breaking behind her, that she awoke.

Aelin gasped as her eyes fluttered open to her temporary room. It was dull, with gray walls, but had cool air filtering through the vents. Despite that, her skin was flushed with heat. She glanced down to see the mottled red skin down her bare arms and legs. 

With a sigh, she swung her legs over the edge of bed. Damn Whitethorn, this was his fault. She hadn't had dreams like that in a while, nor had she let her powers spill over like that. It had happened to her often as a child, until she realized how to shove her flames beneath stone walls. 

Some days, she forgot they existed. Others, she felt ready to combust. And if on those days, she engaged in a little light arson with some matches and gasoline, could you blame her? Despite her anxiety regarding flames, there was something beautiful in the destruction they created. 

She’d almost burned down one of Arobynn’s investments, an underground fighting ring called the Vaults. That was after her life had gone to hell anyway, and indulging in that vindictive message was all she had to keep her going.

Now though, she had a mission. A shot at freedom, if Emrys could be trusted to help her as promised. And she didn’t think the agency would appreciate her lighting fires, intentionally or not. 

She pulled a long silk robe over her nightgown and trudged downstairs. Aelin made her way to the conference room, where they had left the files under lock-and-key in a safe. Her fingerprints allowed her to access them (though she was shocked that they trusted her enough for that). 

They had already looked through most of the information and were waiting for results on the sample of black sludge from the sewers. Aelin skimmed through the information again, her eyes catching on Aedion’s picture. 

Aedion Ashryver. Age 27. Lieutenant in Adarlan’s Army, 37th division. Often called Wolf’s Bane, an elite militia operation. Disappeared during a mission in the Cambrian mountains three weeks ago. 

Aelin searched through the files for any other disappearances in that area, her eyes catching on one. A member of the White Fang tribe up in the mountains, who was reported missing only recently, but presumed to have been gone longer. 

The missing people reports had been listed chronologically, but she started sorting them by location. Aedion and this man, the Cambrian mountains. 

Once she reached the disappearances in Terrassen, she froze over Senator Darrow’s file. The others had said he’d been seen last in Kingsflame Hotel in Orynth, during a charity auction. Her mind conjured up memories of the Hotel, near the old palace in her hometown. 

The name was familiar, but she didn’t realize why until her eye caught on the family line. Spouse, Orlon Galathynius. Deceased. Her heart stopped. She’d only visited her great-uncle on a few occasions, and met his husband even less. Frantically, she pulled out Aedion’s file. Then Falkan Ennar’s and Sima Faliq’s. The family connections couldn’t be a coincidence. 

She made a few notes on post-its, sticking them to the file. If any of the others had remaining family, they should be warned and monitored. Also, Darrow was one of the oldest disappearances, with all the others being under 35. There was quite a big gap between them and him, not just in age but position. Whoever was behind the disappearances wasn’t shy about who they targeted, based on a few other high-profile people, but kidnapping a senator was risky. And what would these people have in common anyway? No political statement being made, no ransoms demanded.

With a sigh, Aelin slumped over in her chair. Gods help her, if only she’d fled the continent when she had the chance.

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  1 3

Rowan and Lorcan exited the training room. It was a habit of theirs, ingrained after years at the agency, to wake up at dawn to spar and train. Rowan liked the routine, the way the repetitive acts honed his body and mind, keeping unwanted thoughts away. 

This morning, said unwanted thoughts revolved around a certain blonde. He knew Lorcan and Fenrys had picked up on his irritation, though they wisely kept their mouths shut. Emrys had told Rowan to keep the truth about Galthynius’ past quiet, much to his dismay. The Blackbeak witch was bad enough, but an assassin from Adarlan’s largest crime empire? Gods help them.

If Rowan was being honest with himself, that wasn’t his only issue. No, his real problem was his traitorous magic. It was the way his powers flickered to life in her presence, ice begging for flame to melt it. He’d gotten only a taste during their fight, and morsels when she hisses angrily at him. 

He tried to ignore his powers when this happened, and her. Luckily, she was infuriating enough for him to happily ignore her. But since he’d caved yesterday, he’d still been on edge. In some way, he could sense her proximity and her mood based on the phantom heat. 

Fenrys was waiting for them in the conference room, frowning at the files.

“Moonbeam,” Lorcan greeted. “Look at you up before noon.”

Fen sent him a grin. “I know you boys missed ogling me during training. I can still take my shirt off, if you want.”

He was met with an eye roll and scoff, as the two took seats across from him. 

“What are you looking at?” Rowan asked. 

Fenrys slid them over, pointing at the notes stuck to them.

“That’s not your handwriting,” Lorcan commented. “Much too neat and flowery.”

“Insulting my handwriting is a new low, even for you, Salvaterre.”

Lorcan ignored that. “Fen and I are out, but monitoring your uncle and cousins in Doranelle isn’t a bad move,” he told Rowan.

Rowan had considered that, though he hadn’t spoken to them in years. He assumed with their wealth, they had a decent enough security system. But in case they were targeted, an extra pair of eyes from the agency would be helpful. “I’ll tell Emrys. Plus we can ask the others. You think Havilliard Sr. could be a target?”

Fen shrugged. “Already got one senator for their collection. Why not two?”

That earned him deadpan stares. “Try to take things seriously.”

He huffed. “I care that people are going missing, unlike Mr. ‘It’s just a job’ over there.”

Rowan ignored him. It was a long standing argument between them, one that only deepened after a mission gone south. He ignored the memories that flickered to the surface and kept scanning the file.

“What do you think is different about Darrow?” Rowan muttered. 

Lorcan shrugged. “I don’t think his age matters. So what if he’s older than the other targets?”

“Maybe,” Rowan responded. “Got anything from Emrys?”

“They’re running the sample of whatever the hell you found in the sewers, should have something for us by tomorrow.”

He nodded in response, thinking of the dark oil-like substance coating the walls and the stone hound lurking down there. “I’m heading out, following up on something. I’ll be back in time for our meeting tomorrow.”

That earned him two incredulous glances. “Where the hell are you going, Whitethorn?” Lorcan asked. 

He sighed. “I thought Remelle might know something about Darrow.”

Fenrys laughed, shaking his head. “I guarantee you, she knows nothing of use. But, planning on spending the night, Ro?” He wiggled his eyebrows. Rowan contemplated throwing a punch there and then. 

Lorcan was still staring at him, scrutinizing him. “Galathynius pissing you off that much?”

Fen laughed harder.

“She was at the same Gala that Darrow was last seen at,” Rowan explained. Honestly, as irritating as it was being cooped up here, Remelle was ten times more annoying. But it might be worth it. And he’d stop by headquarters on the way to update Emrys.

Fen gave him an unimpressed look, but seemed to begrudgingly agree that she might actually have something. Lorcan had already gotten bored of their conversation, examining the notes stuck over the pages. 

Lorcan handed over the pages. “Show this to Emrys when you stop by.”

Fen raised an eyebrow. “Meeting with the boss, are we? Got a secret?”

Rowan scowled. “None of your business, boyo.” 

He ignored Fen’s dramatic goodbyes as he stalked out the door. Remelle better have some information.

Their safehouse was an hour from the city.

Mistward headquarters were on the outskirts of Rifthold, nestled between gleaming skyscrapers in the downtown area. Of course, the building was disguised as an insurance company. With the lower levels actually housing said insurance employees, and the upper levels being hidden away behind layers of security. 

Rowan reached Emrys’ office on autopilot and entered through the open door.

Emrys glanced up from his laptop screen. “Whitethorn, what do you have?”

He took a seat across from Emrys, sliding the notes over. “Someone thinks we should be watching potential targets, like my family.”

Emrys’ eyes skimmed over the notes. “We do have eyes on certain senators, but the family connections are suspicious. I’ll tell Malakai to station someone in Doranelle by your Uncle. Unless you’re interested in taking a trip?” he said.

Rowan shook his brusquely. A part of him wondered what it would be like to see Sellene now. He’d heard she’s married. But his time would be better spent here than a place that hadn’t been home for years.

His boss shrugged. “Worth a shot. I’d rather have you here working with the team anyway.”

Rowan ignored that. Instead, he asked, “anything on the samples?”

A sigh. “It has our technicians stumped. Wolf DNA, with a lot of gaps and modifications. We’ll get a report to you by tomorrow.”

“So its lab made, those hounds? Genetic modifications?” Rowan said. He’d figured as much, they were nothing natural. But he wondered what their purpose was and how it played into the disappearances. 

Emrys nodded, concern gleaming in his eyes. “Careful, Whitethorn. Eventually, you should make a trip back down there, see if you can pick up a trail.” He hesitates. “And take Galathynius with you.” 

Rowan started to protest, before he bit his tongue. He’d learned not to argue with his superiors, however casual they might seem at times Fen mocked him for it, calling him the perfect soldier. 

His boss only sent him an unimpressed look. “I know with the Varese mission-”

“-I’d rather not.”

Emrys continued, “I hand picked this group. I think you’ll do interesting things together, great things.”

“Picked based on powers. And Malakai disagrees with you.”

He hesitated. “Powers, yes, but we didn’t need all ten of you. You each have a unique skill set. And as for Malakai, he’s always been the pessimistic one. We balance each other out, you see. His logic for my instinct. And call this instinct, Whitethorn, but these disappearances are no coincidence. They have something to do with all of you, of that I’m convinced.” Emrys glanced down at the notes. “I’ll have someone watching your family immediately. Havilliard Sr. and a few others as well.”

Rowan nodded in response, Emrys’ words lingering in his brain. 

He wanted to disagree, but his own gut was telling him the same. Somehow, they were all wrapped up in this tangled web. And they’d have to cut themselves out.

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  1 4

This is what he knew: 1) Darrow had seemingly vanished into thin air after the Gala, 2) Remelle noted him talking an old acquaintance of theirs, Benson, 3) he would have to avoid Remelle like the plague based on her continued interest, and 4) Aelin Galathynius was a raging pain in his ass.

After his discussion with Emrys, he’d stopped by Remelle’s. He’d tried to keep the conversation brief. Nothing interesting about Darrow, unless Benson really did have a hand in it. Except, Benson was an asshole, but not the sharpest tool in the box. Even if he had some hand in the disappearance, there was no way he’d orchestrated it. Or that he knew that much about it. 

Still, Rowan added it to his growing list of odd coincidences. 

Right now, his main issue was Aelin Galathynius. The assassin who was supposed to be at the safehouse unless explicitly given permission to leave. But here she was, coffee in hand, by the main entrance.

Sheepishly, she shook the cup at him. “I don’t suppose the glare is because you want a sip.”

“How’d you get out?” he asked.

“Sorry, warden. I didn’t realize this was a prison. I’ll try harder to be sneaky,” she deadpanned. She took a sip of her drink. “Caramel latte,” she explained, at his incredulous stare. She scanned him up and down, mocking a contemplative face. “Let me guess. ‘Coffee black like my soul,’” she said, pitching her voice lower to mimic his.

“Black like your soul, more like,” he grumbled. He regretted it even as he said it. Why was he engaging with this?

Aelin gasped. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me, sweetheart.” She then turned on her heel and continued up the driveway. He growled and paced after her, teeth grinding as she waved flirtatiously at the guards and they smiled back. What are guards for if not keeping an eye on criminals? 

As if reading his mind, she sent him a backwards glance. “You know I’d still sneak out if they didn’t let me walk past them, right?”

Bas and Ress exchanged nervous glances as Rowan stalked past them, letting the doors slam shut. In the relative silence of the hall, he turned to face her with an incredulous look.

“I didn’t realize the terms of your service were confusing, Galathynius,” he gritted out.

“They’re not,” she shrugged. “But they are boring. Explicit permission this and formal request that,” she waved her hand about as she spoke. 

He noticed her outfit for the first time, as she unbuttoned her thin white cardigan. She had on flared jeans with red and orange flowers embroidered onto the edges, paired with a short red crop top with bell shaped sleeves. A pink jem glimmered on her belly button, and the lower edge of a tattoo was visible on her ribs.

Rowan wrenched his gaze away from said piercing to a pair of amused eyes. “Those were not in your wardrobe,” he managed.

She hummed theatrically. “I didn’t realize you and my wardrobe were so well acquainted,” she said. 

“I meant,” he growled, “that those were not with your belongings brought here.”

“No, they’re from my apartment,” she said dismissively, then turned on her heel to stalk down the hallway. 

“Apartment where?” Rowan stalked after her.

“Confidential,” she called backwards. “And if that bothers you, take it up with Emrys. My apartment remaining a secret was on my ‘terms of service,’” she said, facing him to do the finger quotes, “which I understand perfectly clearly.”

Aelin continued casually down the hall. “Where were you? I’d have expected one of your cadre to be with you. Unless this was a personal excursion, in which case, you actually have friends?”

Cadre? Rowan pointedly ignored that, and the comment about having friends. Which, realistically, Remelle could not be considered. Fling , maybe. Annoyance at best. The only person ranking above her on his throw into the oncoming traffic list would be Aelin. 

No, Celaena , he reminded himself. It was easy to forget her other name when she threw this persona around. Arrogant, but flirty, quick to bat her lashes and simper at him over the rim of her coffee. He hated that facade almost as much as he hated the person he knew her to be underneath. A stone cold killer. A sadist, with a penchant for gory deaths. 

“No response?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder again. She examined Rowan where he stood in the hall. “My, my, this really must have been a personal excursion. I’d have thought you’d be less of a bastard if you got laid.”

He scowled at her, but this time she stalked off quickly and disappeared through the living room doors. Rowan followed slowly, hoping not to run into anyone else. His hopes were smashed when he found Fenrys in the living room, across from Elide and Lys. Aelin was perched on the arm of the couch next to Elide, currently ignoring him.

Fen flipped him off in greeting, while the brunettes sent him identical scrutinizing glances. Rowan hesitated, before joining Fenrys. 

“Fen was telling us about some of their new ideas. Do you really think there’s a link between us and the disappearances?” Elide asked Aelin. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

Rowan blinked in surprise as Aelin nodded, and wondered how Elide had known that. Then again, the hacker always knew far more than she should. Rowan couldn’t find himself to begrudge that. It was tactical and smart, the surefire way to be five steps ahead of anyone in the room. And she hadn’t done anything with the top secret information she’d stumbled across, though gods know she could have sold it to the highest bidder.

“It seems suspicious, no?”

Fen turned to Rowan with a raised eyebrow, probably curious as to whether he asked Emrys about putting the Whitethorns on a watch. Rowan nodded slightly, not willing to discuss it in front of the others. Luckily, Fen knew that family tended to be a sore subject and kept quiet.

Lys frowned, worry dragging her brows together. Her eyes were fixed on the ground as she tapped her foot nervously. “So my uncle…and Nesryn’s sister…you think their disappearance has something to do with us?”

Aelin bit her lip, eyes meeting his briefly. They glanced away at the same time, and Aelin said, “I don’t know, Lys.” She stood up, brushing her hands on the front of her jeans. “The most we can do is wait till we get another lead.” 

Begrudgingly, Rowan agreed. Emrys would likely have information for them tomorrow. Whether it was useful information or it only added ten questions to their list, they’d have to find out.

Chapter Text

C h a p t e r  1 5

Lys was nervous. She’s been anxious since yesterday, worried about what the disappearances could mean for her and the rest of her family. What if they targeted others? She couldn’t help but think of her younger sister Eva. 

Nothing could happen to her. Otherwise, Lys taking this job would have been for nothing. And who would she have left? She’d spent the night tossing and turning, her dreams a vicious mix of her sister’s pain.

Malakai was standing in their living room, just a few feet from her. For some reason, the cozy setting made her more nervous than if they’d been in the conference room. This felt too personal, without the layer of separation there used to be between them and the victims. Not that Lys had ever felt that separation much. Just like Nesryn, she had been swayed to join because of a missing loved one.

Everybody else was uncharacteristically tense as well, though. Even Fenrys, who had made one attempt at a joke and quieted. He sat next to Dorian and Nox, while the other agents stood stoically behind their couch. Manon sat in one armchair, expression perfectly bland, while Aelin sat in the other. Nesyrn and Elide were on either side of her on the smaller couch, arms brushing hers. She tried and failed to draw any comfort from that. 

There was a woman with Malakai, all willowy curves and warm brown skin. She had freckles splattered across her nose and cheekbones, eyes that glinted a honey shade, and a welcoming smile. She hadn’t said much to them, gaze flitting over them quickly instead. 

“Alright,” Malakai said, not one to bother with niceties. He’d only given the agents brief nods and sent the rest looks with varying levels of disdain. “Everybody, this is Yrene. She’s our chief medical officer in training, and she oversees a lot of the lab work.”

Yrene took out several copies of documents from her manila folder, handing them individually. Lys received hers, but immediately balked at the numbers and letters on the page. She’d never really excelled at science, having a better knack for languages and history. 

As she glanced around, she noted that most seemed equally confused. Aelin, Dorian, and Rowan were all reading very carefully, though. In fact, Aelin and Dorian kept sending each other increasingly surprised looks. 

What the fuck? Dorian mouthed.

Aelin shrugged, turning her attention to Yrene as the rest of them did. 

The brunette, understanding she had their rapt attention, jumped right into it. “Alright, so the sample that Agent Whithorn and Galathynius obtained from the so-called stone hounds did have some genetic material in it, but was hard to match. Based on the sequencing, it’s closest to rottweiler DNA. However, there are glaring gaps and several concerning additions.”

Here she cast an unreadable glance to Malakai, who gave her a tense nod. 

“Alright, one of the changes was mutations in certain growth genes, explaining the abnormal sizes. Without analyzing one or obtaining samples of skin, it’s hard to determine what material their armor is made of, so we couldn’t determine that. The creature’s blood is extremely de-oxygenated and it doesn’t seem to run much on oxygen at all.”

Lys did not like the sound of that all. As Yrene hesitated, Lys had the sinking feeling that she’d like what was said next even less.

“And finally, there are a few novel genes. They appear to be synthetic, man-made. One that we’ve encountered before, named WD integrated retrotransposition dysplasia or Wyrd for short. Although we’ve encountered a different version of it, many parts of the gene and regulatory sequence are conserved.”

There was a beat of silence, then Aelin asked. “And where have you encountered that gene before?”

Yrene was quiet, while Malakai exchanged a glance with the agents. For the first time, Lys noticed how tense they were. Rowan and Lorcan had clenched jaws, shoulders tensed in an almost identical position. Except that Lorcan had subtly draped his hand closer to Fenrys, while Rowan’s fingers were pulled into a fist. Fen himself had gone ashen. 

Rowan shook his head, but Malakai spoke. “A couple years ago, the agents were on a mission investigating a group we called the Valg. It went South, the Valg went underground. We’ve been keeping our ears perked for them ever since, but nothing. At that time, we encountered victims with the genetic modifications Yrene spoke of.”

“Victims?” Lys asked. “Human victims?”

Yrene nodded grimly. “Yes, but the attempt was lethal. None of them survived, and most had such a rapid cognitive decline that they couldn’t be questioned. There was nothing to do for them,” she said sadly. 

“And is there a reason it didn’t occur to you that might be the Valg again?” Aelin asked. Her tone was light, not accusatory, but Lys felt the underlying strain in her question. If the blonde had ever heard of the Valg, she showed no sign of it. And yet, she didn’t seem surprised and her first question was not about who they were.

It was Lorcan who interjected. “Back then, the circumstances were different. I thought there were no disappearances,” he said, but his gaze was pinned on Malakai intensely. 

Malakai sighed deeply. “Back then, there were no documented disappearances. Most of the victims were experimented on in hospitals, discretely by Valg operatives. And victims all had a similar status. It was kept quiet, and the agents were more focused on infiltration than the experiments.”

Fenrys scoffed, but made no reply. His face was tilted so his expression was mostly obscured. Lorcan and Rowan seemed similarly displeased, with the former glaring at Malakai and the latter looking pointedly away. 

“And since no victims had surfaced, we believed, or perhaps hoped,” Malakai said, “that this was a different scenario. Otherwise, we would have disclosed it sooner.”

“Do you have the case studies of the victims?” Aelin asked, eyes bright in a way that Lys had begun to associate with danger. It was the look in her eyes when she strode confidently into an illegal fight club in Rifthold with her head held high. 

Yrene rifled through the folder to hand over a few pages. “These are three of them.”

“Out of?” Dorian asked, getting up to stride over to Aelin’s side. The two peered at the pages. 

Another pause. “Out of one hundred and thirteen.”

Everyone glanced up at her in shock, and Nesyrn went ramrod straight beside Lys. Fenrys cursed under his breath. “You’re fucking kidding me,” he then said, loudly. 

Malakai pursed his lips. 

“Fever,” Aelin read off. “Seizures. Delusions, hallucinations. Patients were hostile and frequently made escape attempts, several incidents of harming the medical professionals.” 

“This one says delusions such as…being able to fly,” Dorian said. 

“Yes,” Yrene said slowly.

“And this one says, turning invisible,” said Aelin. 

Nox and Lorcan cursed in unison, and Lorcan immediately scowled at the younger boy. 

Lys’ mind felt stuffed with cotton, like she was missing the obvious. Everyone around seemed to be picking it up, but all she wanted to do was run far away and hide from the truth hovering before her.

“The patients had some…odd circumstances around them. Power outages or seeming to disappear for a few hours, but nothing was well documented,” Malakai said. “No clear evidence of powers. And victims didn’t last long enough to learn more.”

“We don’t know how successful the Valg were, but that’s clearly what they were trying to do,” Elide said. “Give them powers…like ours?”

Aelin bit her lip. “Those symptoms…I had a bad fever when I was four. Pneumonia. The first time my powers manifested was after that,” she admitted, her voice softer than Lys had ever heard it. “And I used to see things others didn’t. They tried therapist after therapist.”

Lys nodded, her heart beating fast enough that she could feel her pulse stuttering. She was breathing heavily, the pieces falling into place. “I got really sick when I was ten. I remember having all these dreams of shifting, I kept rambling about it once I healed too. I kept seeing birds everywhere, which they told me were hallucinations. Until one day I decided to shift into one and fly.”

Elide shrugged and said that she’d had her ability since she could remember. As did Nesryn, since she discovered it rather by accident. 

“I don’t remember it, but I had a seizure when I was young. Our chef mentioned all the objects in the house rattling when it happened, swore we had ghosts after that night,” Dorian added with a frown. “You’re saying they would have been like us…if they survived. How are we alive then?”

“Chance, maybe,” Aelin said. “Or we were born with the mutations. They were trying, and failing, to replicate what we had. Right?” her gaze bore into Malakai.

“It makes sense,” he said, begrudgingly. Lys’ heart had sunk into her gut, anxiety replaced with bone deep dread. Their families…was that why they were targeted?

“Our sisters,” Nesryn blurts, gesturing at themselves. “What of them?”

“Being closely guarded, but they can be moved to a safehouse such as this. If you’d prefer,” he offers. “We have no reason to think they’d need more than one person from a family anyway.”

“Reassuring,” Lys said dryly. Eva wasn’t even blood related to Lys, unlike her uncle, but that didn’t ease the knot in her stomach. 

“What are they doing with the victims?” Nesryn said. “Repeating their experiments? Studying their DNA?” 

“That’s your job to find out,” Malakai said.

Lys contemplated throttling the man. Fenrys appeared to be in the same boat. 

“What’s in the briefcase?” Aelin asked Yrene, looking like she already knew the answer.

The woman gave her a sympathetic smile, before placing it on the table and snapping it open. Inside were rows of syringes, packaged needles, and sample tubes. 

“Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of,” Aelin muttered, sinking into her cushions. 

They all sat in silence for a moment, before Yrene pulled out a page of stickers. “I have rewards,” she said cheerfully, which probably would have worked on ten year olds. 

Nox shook his head. “I’m scared of needles.” That earned him several incredulous glances, but Lys couldn’t say she disagreed. 

Aelin sighed and stood up. “Guess I’ll start.” She sent Yrene a wry grin. “At least I have a pretty doctor to give me a gold star sticker,” she said, batting her lashes at the brunette. Yrene laughed, as did Lys, but Malakai's expression only soured.

Lys hadn’t expected the night to end with blood tests. But apparently, this was her life now. Might as well get a sticker out of it. (She ended up getting a cute kitten pawing at a ball of yarn. Agent Whithorn got a googly-eyed owl which he immediately tossed in the trash. Manon got a lizard which she kept scowling at, though she kept. Fenrys stuck his rainbow sticker on Lorcan’s back when he wasn’t paying attention.)