Page 211 of Black Reign

That's the terrifying part.

There wasn't one moment.

No first date.

No hand across a table.

No kiss.

Just thousands of tiny decisions to come back.

To trust her.

To tell her one more thing.

To wait when she vanished.

To forgive London.

To invite her to Haverhill’s wedding because watching my friends marry women they loved had finally made me admit I wanted the impossible woman behind my screen standing beside me.

And now somebody has her.

I open NULL.

GHOST: I'M COMING. STAY WITH ME.

Nothing.

GHOST: VESPER.

No response.

“Talk to me,” I snap.

My security chief glances at his tablet.

“Location is holding. Industrial property east of the river. Ownership shell. We have exterior surveillance coming up.”

“Police?”

“We can have Met response⁠—”

“No.”

He looks back.

“Not until we know who has her.”

Because she said they know her father.

Because somebody penetrated ARGUS.

Because Adrien Beaumont’s dead file came alive within hours of Vesper admitting she has been inside Blackwell systems.

This is connected.

And if it is connected to Blackwell, I don't know which uniform, agency, contractor, or government designation I can trust.