Page 67 of Curiosity Killed The Vampire

CHAPTER 20

The conference room door closed behind us with a heavy thud, the echo lingering in the dim hallway. The mansion felt quieter now, as if the news we’d just uncovered had seeped into its old stone bones. Flickering sconces threw long, jagged shadows along the walls, stretching ahead of us like paths leading in too many directions.

Con walked beside me in silence at first. His boots made almost no sound on the marble, his posture as precise as ever—shoulders squared, gaze forward, every movement deliberate. The low hum of my power stirred under my skin, still feeding off the strain of the last hour.

When we reached the landing overlooking the main foyer, I stopped. The chandeliers below glimmered dimly, their light scattering gold across the marble tiles. From here, the whole mansion looked deceptively calm. But beneath the sheen, the clan was splitting, our enemies were evolving, and now the humans—our supposed allies—had joined the list of problems.

“So,” I said, cutting through the quiet, “where do we start?”

Con turned slightly, his expression unreadable in the half-light. “We don’t start anywhere until we have Julian’s next lead on the artifact.”

I folded my arms, not surprised, still annoyed. “I’m not putting the next piece above this, Con. We still need to find out who’s helping Valerian.”

He inclined his head, conceding the point without really giving ground. “We’re not ignoring it. But the artifact remains the primary objective. The Pentacoris might be tied to the experiments. That could be the real reason Valerian wants it—to stabilize his army.”

“That’s a reach,” I said, though some part of me agreed. “Humans don’t understand real magic. They copy what they don’t grasp.”

Con met my gaze, the gold flecks in his eyes glinting in the light. “And sometimes imitation is more dangerous than expertise.”

I frowned, leaning against the cold railing. “So what’s the plan? We just wait for Julian to dig up another location?”

“Partly,” he said. “He’ll find the next piece soon enough. Until then, we use the time to chase the military lead. Quietly.”

I arched a brow. “Quietly. You mean off record.”

A wry smile touched his mouth. “You make it sound illegal.”

“Because it probably is,” I said. “William was clear—PSO oversight, full transparency.”

“William was clear because he’s afraid,” Con replied evenly. “If we report every step, the humans will catch the scent. And if this is military-backed, the moment they know we’re digging, the trail disappears.”

I hated that he was right.

“Fine,” I said, crossing my arms tighter. “Then what’s the next move?”

Con’s gaze drifted toward the far end of the corridor, where moonlight sliced through the tall windows in pale beams. “Julian mentioned personnel records—missing operatives, classified disappearances. We start there. Someone’s moving bodies off the grid, and military transport leaves traces, no matter how buried.”

“Which means data theft,” I said dryly. “Hacking government systems. Meddling in human operations.”

He shrugged, the hint of amusement in his eyes. “You’ve done worse.”

I snorted. “Not lately.”

His smile widened by a fraction before fading. “We’ll have Julian focus on the data while we gather intelligence from field contacts. You still have connections in Quebec’s old networks, don’t you?”

“Some,” I admitted. “Smugglers, mercenaries, the usual assortment of bad decisions who owe me favors. They might know if any black-market gear or biotech’s been moving through their routes.”

“Good,” Con said. “If the humans are working with Valerian, they’ll leave tracks. Magical residue. Shipments. Money changing hands.”

“And if we find those tracks?” I asked.

His tone went colder, softer. “Then we find the source. And we burn it.”

The simplicity of it made something twist low in my chest. It wasn’t a threat. It was a vow—and I knew he meant every word.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the muted hum of the lights and the distant roll of thunder outside.

“You know,” I said finally, “this would almost be easier if you weren’t always right.”