“And you’ve confirmed this is legitimate?”

“Yes, sir.” Eli nodded to the golden ticket in Pearce’s hand. “My tech tried to track the purchase, but it was a dead end. Beake knew what he was doing when he gave me that.”

Pearce tossed the ticket onto the desk and rubbed his forehead. His navy tie pooled on a stack of paperwork as he leaned over it. “I’m not sold, Valenz.”

“I can catch him here, sir.” Eli jabbed a finger down on the ticket. “Just give my team access to the gala—“

“With a week’s notice?”

“—and I’ll have him in our cells by the end of the night.”

Valenz gave a sigh and ran a hand through his thinning hair. The overly bright lights of the office did nothing for the wrinkles that thirty years at the agency had carved into him. “And you’re sure he didn’t try any of his mind control magic on you?”

“I’m sure, sir.”

“Did he use any of his alchemy on you?”

Eli thought back to the healing potion on the cloth and paused. “None, sir.”

As Eli wondered why he had lied, Pearce let out a breath. “Good. We’ve had stronger agents come back from him babbling nonsense. You’re lucky you made it out of his compound at all.”

Eli set his jaw. “If I catch him at the gala, he won’t endanger our agents any longer.”

“If?” But Pearce was already picking up the phone. “Valenz, if I’m pulling these strings, you’re gonna have to do a lot better than if.”