Page 65 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

Julian nodded. “But that’s not why I called you here.” He pushed a folder across the table toward us, the pages thick with reports and photos—grainy surveillance shots, military schematics, autopsy notes. “This is about the enhanced humans. I've gone through all of the evidence you sent from the lab you crashed.”

I leaned forward, scanning the first page. Medical records. Genetic maps. Neural interface diagrams that looked like they’d been ripped from a classified defense project rather than any vampire archive.

Julian tapped one image—a microchip embedded near the spine of a corpse. “They’re not test subjects anymore,” he said quietly. “They’re soldiers.”

He looked up, voice dropping. “And there are a lot more of them than we thought.”

Julian fanned the documents across the table, the scattered pages covered in maps, images, and medical data that made my stomach knot. The photos were ugly—bodies, diagrams of implants, lists of names and ranks.

“Military personnel have been disappearing for years,” he said, tone flat but urgent. “Most of the files I’ve uncovered are classified. On paper, they’re MIA—lost during missions, accidents, training incidents. But if you cross-reference the disappearances with regions tied to known supernatural activity…” He tapped the table, and the projection shifted to a map dotted with red marks. “They line up almost perfectly.”

I frowned, leaning closer. “You think they’re being recruited?”

Julian’s gaze flicked to mine. “Or taken.” He exhaled, fingers sliding through his hair. “Either way, they’re selecting viable candidates—strong, disciplined, already conditioned for combat. It’s the perfect base for what they’re building.”

“Or both,” I said quietly. “Recruit the willing. Steal the rest.”

He nodded once. “Could be. But there’s a bigger problem—this isn’t a purely scientific operation. There’s a magical component woven into every enhancement I’ve examined. Someone with serious transmutation knowledge is stabilizing the process.”

Con’s brows drew together. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“Meaning,” Julian said grimly, “that either a witch or a warlock is involved.”

The name slipped out before I could stop it. “Valerian.”

Julian’s expression hardened. He hesitated, then shook his head. “Possibly. But not alone. He couldn’t sustain this on his own. He doesn’t have the resources to acquire what’s needed, and these soldiers—these enhanced humans—they’re being produced on an industrial scale. That takes infrastructure, labs, transport, funding from someone with real influence.”

Con’s tone went flint-hard. “Someone on our side of the veil.”

“Exactly,” Julian said. “Someone within the supernatural world isn’t just experimenting—they’re scaling up.”

The thought made my skin crawl. The constellation of red dots glowing on the map looked like an infection.

I straightened, folding my arms. “Could Ursula or the coven be involved?”

Julian hesitated, but Con answered first. “No. Not Ursula.” His voice carried a rare certainty. “She fears Valerian too much to work with him. She wouldn’t take that risk.”

I met his gaze and nodded slowly. “Agreed. Ursula might flirt with the line, but she doesn’t cross it without a safety net. Valerian isn’t one.”

Julian tapped another photo—an image of a man with mechanical veins threaded through his neck. “Then the question becomes—Who is helping him?”

The silence that followed was heavy. Whoever it was, they weren’t just building soldiers. They were building a war machine.

Con broke the quiet. “We need to find out who Valerian’s working with,” he said.

My gaze slid to him, and despite everything—the fatigue, the rawness, the ache he always seemed to drag with him—I couldn’t help the smirk tugging at my mouth. “I’ve been saying that from the beginning.”

A hint of a smile touched his lips, quick and subtle. “And you were right,” he said.

The simple admission hit harder than I wanted it to—quiet acknowledgment from a man who rarely conceded anything.

Julian stacked the papers into a neater pile, sliding the top sheet toward me. “I’ll keep tracking the supply lines and see who’s bankrolling this.”

The low buzz of the conference room lights filled the space as I stared down at the map. Every red dot felt like a match head waiting to spark, and for the first time since returning to Shadow Bone, I could feel the storm building again—something bigger than the clans, bigger than any internal power struggle.

I met Con’s eyes, and the gold there caught the light, unwavering.

“We’ll need authorization,” he said quietly.