Emil didn’t know much, but what he did know was useful. His group’s name was Fidelis. Cutting through the heavily romanticized and editorialized description, they were fringe paramilitaries with a viagra-assisted erection for the Second Amendment—and not the kind with serious training. Mall cops, security guards, bouncers, bootcamp washouts and dishonorable discharge wannabes. In practice, they acted much like the soldier of fortune types they idolized—with significantly less effectiveness, if I were to hazard a guess.

After learning this, Miles pivoted, questions less focused on Fidelis itself, more targeted towards the ones pulling the strings.

Emil said—after repeatedly clarifying the statement as a rumor—that Fidelis had been contacted and given a quest by another group. They were incredibly wealthy and appeared to be similarly aligned, the condition of joining the group that they prove themselves by clearing it.

That was where things got foggy, thanks to Emil’s absence in rank. The way the quest system worked at a Guild level was almost entirely customizable for the Guild Leader. The amount of information given out about a quest was almost entirely their prerogative. Quest objectives themselves couldn’t be changed, but the objectives themselves could be either shown or hidden on a needs basis.

Which was important information, should I ever take a guild quest. It was entirely possible that information or objectives could both be seriously altered or obfuscated. And it gave Guild Leaders far more room to get creative than I’d prefer. Maybe could help me circumvent that, somehow.

Unfortunately, this meant Emil had next to no idea what they were doing. They had an initial objective to capture one-hundred people, Users or Civilians, but the end fate of those individuals was unknown. They were instructed to bring anyone who was captured up to the seventh floor along with the Lux. Once there, they were handed off to several Fidelis higher ups and disappeared. As far as Emil knew, no one had returned from the seventh floor.

The only other lead was “Pat,” a representative from the outsourcing group that roamed the building, acting as oversight.

“I was really hoping you were wrong,” I muttered to Miles. He had subdued and gagged Emil, and was in the process of awkwardly shoving him into a nearby closet.

“About?”

“The necromancer.”

“Figures I wasn’t. It’s about the only thing the office has briefed us on.” Miles turned his head to the side and spit, disgust prominent in his expression. “Apparently, these guys are all about body count. They raided one hanging out in the sewer—the only reason we knew about him at all is he wasn’t being very choosy about his disposal process. Reasonable mistake to make if you operate out of a sewer, but still sloppy. Care to guess what the plainclothes found, clogging up the waterworks?”

“No.” I shuddered.

“Good call.”

“What was he doing?” I asked. My mind once again went to Jinny. “Was he bringing them back, only, enslaved or bound or whatever-the-fuck?”

“Nah.” Miles rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, not really. He was experimenting. Totally off his rocker, too. They found him covered in viscera and god knows what else. There were a half-dozen of his… creations, plodding about, but from the reports, they weren’t exactly people and didn’t pose much of a threat. Tough as hell, though.”

I rubbed my forehead. That didn’t sound promising. I’d half clung to the idea of eventually finding a “friendly,” necromancer to revive Jinny without really thinking it through. Faced with the reality, that seemed even less likely now. And the further complication left an unpleasant taste in my mouth. With all the fantasy creatures running around, it wasn’t all that surprising to discover there were zombies. That didn’t mean I was happy about it.

“What’s the plan?” Miles asked. I knew he wasn’t just innocently deferring to me. He was capable of decisive action when the moment required it. Him deferring to me, acting like he valued my input, was all part of the same ploy. Building rapport, or evaluating me, or both.

“Stairway sounds like it’s well-guarded.” I shrugged, motion highlighting the rope on my shoulder. “We go up to the second level, find a good room to breach out of, then climb to the top.”

“Been a few years, but I have some experience in that area. Still. You sure that rope and hook’s going to cut it?”

I hesitated. If I was willing to use Audrey in plant form, it would have been easy. Only I wasn’t keen on giving Miles more information about me.

”Can you direct that form?” I asked Audrey. ”Don’t try anything right now, just need to know if you can.”

”I dislike… being rope.”

”A pound of turkey.”

”I… enjoy this… form.” Audrey said immediately.

I suppressed an eye-roll. ”Can you move it or not?”

”Not… directly. I can guide.”

That would have to be enough.

“It should be fine,” I confirmed to Miles. “What about the outsider? Their oversight. We really want to leave him be?”

“And risk exposing my identity to the group that got enough of a head start that they’re able to outsource necromantic research? Nah. I don’t really want to risk getting on their bad side. I’m not the one with the disguise power.”

I was about to respond acridly to his earlier statement when the latter sunk in. Every outside concern and worry emptied from my mind, the entirety of my focus drawn to this one singular moment.

“Sorry?” I cocked my head.

“You have any Italian in your heritage?”

“The hell are you talking about, Miles?”

Miles stared dead at me. “Just something I noticed. When I first met you, I could have sworn you were White. Then, in the van, I realized my initial read was wrong, and you were probably Hispanic. Then Puerto Rican. Not really the sort of thing I get wrong often—attention to detail and remembering faces is my bread and butter. Weird. So I kept looking. I realized you had some asian features, and your skin was darker, and there were a few other things that flagged you as Filipino, and now I’m half convinced you’re Italian. And my mind is desperately trying to tell me that it’s normal, and I should ignore it, which only stands out to me more.”

I considered my options. Miles catching on that there was something off about my appearance wasn’t ideal. If he had, others likely would eventually. It would be a bad play to overreact here. My hand itched at my side. “There’s a lot of chaos. Might be losing your edge.”

“Maybe.” Miles nodded. “But it puts us in an awkward situation. You know my name, my face, where I live. I know next to nothing about you apart from what I’ve observed.”

“And what is that?”

“From what I could tell from our time in the APC, I’m not the only one—the others follow your orders because someone, probably in Roderick’s Lodge—most likely Roderick himself considering how Robert is here yet not heading things up—put you in charge recently. And we’re about to land a shit-ton of lux. I’m sure you can put together how that makes a man jumpy.”

“Is this going to be a problem?” I asked, my tone dangerous.

“Not if I can help it.” His expression held the same intensity, though he looked slightly perturbed.

It took running through it mentally several times before I realized what Miles was after. In his mind, I was the unidentifiable third party with a concealment ability. For all he knew, I infiltrated the region and was manipulating Roderick to get at the lux, which I intended to steal and deliver to another region. Still, confronting me and voicing his concerns didn’t make sense, unless he was hoping I would still work with him.

“When we find it, I have no problem letting you be the one to take possession of the lux and move it downstairs. So long as it ends up back in the vehicle with the others.”

“That’ll work.” Miles nodded.

“On one condition.” I held out to him.

He grinned at me, then took it, sliding the blade into one of the empty slots of his knife belt. “And here I was, about to be disappointed. Alright then. I’m going to start scouting the second floor for a room that’ll give us the best way up to the roof. If you have anything else to do here while I do that… well, I saw nothing.”

I understood immediately. Miles had no interest in putting a spotlight on himself when it came to the third party, but he’d picked up on the fact that I wasn’t satisfied with that.

Be cautious whispered in my mind, reiterating something I already knew. Just being around Miles was dangerous.

”If he does anything strange, anything out of the ordinary, reach out to me immediately.” I told Talia.

”And if he chooses to store the knife?” Talia asked.

”Then we’ll know we have a problem. Just, keep me advised on his location.”

”Your will be done.” It was almost a relief to hear the sarcasm in her voice. Talia had been unnaturally subdued, likely angry at the events that both preceded and followed her death. She wasn’t over it by any stretch, but the sarcasm was a good sign that our dynamic hadn’t permanently changed.

“I’ll drop squelch for a few seconds when I find a place,” Miles warned. “Anything more is too risky. You won’t be able to respond, but you’ll know.”

/////

I found “Pat” in a manager’s office. He was peering through the blinds towards the chaos outside. There was a current generation iPhone in his hand and he was speaking into it. Which struck me as strange, seeing as how phone communication had been down for days now.

His voice was a dull whisper, indistinguishable from this distance.

“… Not sure how many. I recognize a few from Roderick’s Lodge, but with the amount of firepower they’re showing off, it might be a joint effort. Motherfucker. I told him we needed more people here, and he blew me off. If you’re listening to this recording after pulling the phone off my bloated fucking corpse, it’s all Ethan’s fault. I warned him. The doctor’s making headway, but it won’t matter if they kill him. And they will kill him. What a waste.”

I followed a line of shadows from the desk to the far wall. The man was wearing weaved hybrid armor that looked expensive. Eventually, I got a look at his side profile.

A rush went through me when I recognized him. He was one of the twelve. The one to the side of the archer that ended Jinny’s life. The suit was replaced with armor, but his long brown ponytail was still pulled together by a simple tie. Between that and the severe nose, it was absolutely him.

I shrugged the rope off my shoulder and caught it between my fingers, sending Audrey a mental command before I let it drop silently to the floor. The rope began to grow thorns.

“I’m going to do my best to get out. But if I don’t make it… tell Lilith that I’m sorry I couldn’t keep my promise.”

Tell her yourself. She’ll be joining you soon.

Painstakingly careful, I aligned the dull-glowing sights of my crossbow on Ponytail’s back, directly centered on his left lung.

And pulled the trigger.