"WE HAVE A PROBLEM," Mason said without preamble. "Eastern periter breach. Multiple signatures. Not Theron. Sothing else."
"How many?"
"At least six. Maybe more. They’re not trying to hide. Gray, this is—"
"A diversion." Grayson was already moving, heading back upstairs. "Theron’s making his move. He extracts Kael while we’re dealing with the breach. Where’s Lucson?"
"Already mobilizing teams for the periter. But Gray, if Theron can extract soone from our holding cells—"
"He had help. Inside help." Grayson took the stairs three at a ti. "Which ans we can’t trust anyone. Get to the west wing. Now. I want everyone we don’t explicitly trust cleared from this section."
He reached the west wing to find Carson already outside the door, ard and alert.
"She’s secure," Carson said. "Tried to follow you out, but I convinced her that was a terrible idea."
"How?"
"Told her if she left, you’d probably kill whoever was guarding her for letting it happen." Carson’s expression was grim. "Periter breach?"
"Diversion. Kael’s gone. Extracted from the holding cell." Grayson pushed past Carson into the room.
Mailah was standing by the window—away from it, not near it, following protocols—fully dressed now. Alert.
"What’s happening?" she asked.
"We’re under attack. Multiple targets at the eastern periter. Kael was extracted from holding. Theron’s making his move." He crossed to her in three strides. "You’re staying here. Mason’s coming up to reinforce security. You do not leave this room. You do not go anywhere near a window. You do not—"
"I understand."
"—do anything stupid like trying to help or—" He stopped. Surprised. Again. "What?"
"I said I understand." She t his eyes steadily. "I’ll be here when you’re done. Alive and following protocols."
He stared at her, searching for deception or false bravado. Finding only determination.
"Theron dream-walked you to deliver a ssage," he said quietly. "But also to test you. To see if you’d break easily. To see if you were worth the effort of using against ."
"And?"
"And you didn’t break." His hand ca up to cup her face. "Which ans he’ll try harder next ti."
"I’ll be ready."
The words were brave. Foolish. Entirely too human.
He kissed her anyway. Quick and hard and claiming.
"Stay alive," he ordered. "That’s not a request."
"Sa to you."
Then he was moving, Carson falling into step beside him as they headed for the periter.
Behind them, Mailah stood alone in the warded room, touching her lips where he’d kissed her, and tried very hard not to think about the voice that had spoken through her mouth.
The voice that had known exactly what she’d been dreaming about.
And the terrifying possibility that so of what it said might have been true.
The eastern periter was chaos.
Not the panicked, disorganized chaos of amateurs. The calculated, deliberate chaos of professionals who knew exactly what they were doing.
Six demons—low-level by the signatures Mason had detected—were systematically testing the wards at different points. Not trying to break through. Just... probing. Looking for weaknesses.
Exactly like Kael had done.
Grayson watched from the security center’s monitors as Lucson’s teams engaged. The demons weren’t fighting back. Just retreating, regrouping, testing a different section.
"They’re mapping us," Lucson said, standing beside him. "Learning our response patterns. Guard rotations. Reaction tis."
"How long have they been at it?"
"Fifteen minutes. Long enough to gather significant data."
Grayson’s jaw tightened. "Pull the teams back. Let them probe."
Lucson’s head snapped toward him. "You want to let them—"
"They’re not here to breach. They’re here to learn. So let them learn what we want them to learn." Grayson pulled up a tactical map on the screen. "Redirect teams to create a false weak point here. Southeast corner. Make it look like we’re stretched thin. Under-defended."
"You want to bait them."
"I want them to report back to Theron that they found an exploitable weakness. One we control." His fingers moved across the screen, marking positions. "When they co back—and they will co back—we’ll be ready."
Carson appeared in the doorway, slightly out of breath. "Mason says we have a bigger problem."
"Define bigger."
"The household staff. Three of them are missing. Not just absent—rooms cleared out, belongings gone, no sign they were ever here."
Grayson went very still. "When?"
"Best guess? Within the last two hours. Since you found Kael’s apartnt." Carson’s expression was grim. "They knew we’d found the leak. They ran before we could connect them."
"Three more," Lucson said quietly. "Three more informants we didn’t know about."
"Get nas. Hire dates. References. Everything." Grayson was already moving toward the door. "And pull records on everyone who’s been hired in the last year. Cross-reference with guard shifts, access levels, anything that would give Theron intelligence."
"That’s going to take ti—"
"Then start now."
He left the security center and headed back toward the west wing, his mind calculating. Three informants. Plus Kael. Four separate intelligence sources embedded in the estate for months, possibly longer.
Theron hadn’t just been planning this. He’d been preparing for it.
Thoroughly. Patiently.
Like a siege.
His phone buzzed.
Mason: Periter probes have stopped. All six signatures withdrew simultaneously. Too coordinated to be coincidence.
Grayson typed back: They got what they ca for. Double the guards on the west wing. I’m on my way back.
He took the stairs three at a ti, his thoughts racing.
Dream-walking through Mailah. Extracting Kael from holding. Coordinated periter probes. Multiple embedded informants.
Theron was escalating. Fast.
But there was sothing else. Sothing that didn’t fit the pattern.
The dream-walk had been personal. Taunting. Designed to provoke an emotional response.
The periter breach was tactical. Professional. Designed to gather intelligence.
Two different approaches. Two different objectives.
Unless—
Grayson stopped mid-step.
Unless the dream-walk wasn’t about Mailah at all. It was about him.
About getting him emotional. Off-balance. Making decisions based on fear instead of strategy.
And he’d fallen for it.
He’d left Mailah to interrogate Kael. Left her again to handle the periter breach.
Had spent the last hour making tactical decisions while she sat alone in a warded room, traumatized by possession and trying to be brave about it.
Exactly what Theron wanted.
Separation. Isolation. Fear.
When he reached the west wing, Mason was outside the door with two additional guards Grayson recognized from his personal security detail.
Trusted. Vetted.
"She’s been quiet," Mason said. "No attempts to leave. No questions."
"Too quiet?"
"Just... quiet."
Grayson pushed the door open.
Mailah was sitting on the bed, fully dressed, a book open in her lap that she clearly wasn’t reading. She looked up when he entered, her expression carefully neutral.
"Status?" she asked, her voice steady.
"Periter breach contained. They withdrew after gathering intelligence." He moved to the window, checking the grounds one more ti. "We lost three more household staff. Informants, most likely. They fled before we could question them."
"So Theron has four intelligence sources."
"Had. Kael’s compromised now. The others will be cautious about contact." He turned to face her. "How are you?"
"Fine."
"That’s not an answer."
"It’s the only answer I have." She closed the book, setting it aside. "A demon possessed through my dreams, used my body to deliver threats, and violated my mind in ways I’m trying very hard not to think about. But I’m alive, you’re alive, and the estate is still standing. So I’m fine."
Her voice was too controlled. Too steady. The kind of steady that ca from forcing down panic.
Grayson crossed to the bed and sat beside her.
Not touching. Just... present.
"You don’t have to be fine," he said quietly.
"Yes, I do. Because if I’m not fine, I’m terrified. And terrified doesn’t help anyone."
"Terrified is honest."
"Terrified is weak."
"No." He turned to look at her. "Terrified is human. Pretending otherwise is just lying to yourself."
She was quiet for a long mont. Then: "Did you an it? What you said before you left. About being yours to protect."
"Yes."
"Even though you don’t rember why you started protecting in the first place?"
"Especially because of that." His hand found hers on the bed, fingers interlacing. "The fact that I don’t rember and still can’t walk away tells everything I need to know."
"Which is?"
"That past- made the right choice. Even if I don’t rember making it."
Mailah’s fingers tightened on his. "Theron said I dream about you. About being safe. About a normal life."
"He was trying to provoke ."
"That doesn’t make it untrue." She looked down at their joined hands. "I do dream about you. About us. About what this could be if we weren’t constantly under siege by ancient demons who want to torture to hurt you."
Grayson should pull away. Should remind her that emotional attachnt was a liability in situations like this.
Instead, he pulled her closer, his free hand finding the back of her neck.
"When this is over," he said, his voice rough, "when Theron is dead and the threat is neutralized and we can both breathe again—ask what I dream about."
"Why not now?"
"Because right now, the only thing I dream about is keeping you alive." He rested his forehead against hers. "Everything else can wait."
She made a small sound—not quite a laugh, not quite a sob. "That’s possibly the most romantic thing you’ve ever said while also being completely unromantic."
"I’m working with limited emotional vocabulary."
"I noticed."
They sat like that for a long mont, wrapped around each other in silence. Then Mailah pulled back slightly.
"The periter probes. You said they withdrew after gathering intelligence. What kind of intelligence?"
And just like that, the mont shifted.
Business. Strategy. Things Grayson understood.
"Response patterns. Guard rotations. Ward configurations. They were mapping our defenses to find exploitable weaknesses."
"And did they?"
"They found what I wanted them to find. A false weakness. Bait."
Her eyebrows rose. "You’re setting a trap."
"I’m giving Theron what he expects to see—a defense he can breach. When he tries, we’ll be ready."
"That’s risky. If he realizes it’s a trap—"
"He won’t. Because he’s expecting to be emotional. Reactive. Making decisions based on protecting you instead of strategic advantage." Grayson’s mouth curved slightly. "He doesn’t know I can do both."
"Can you?"
"I’m about to find out."
His phone buzzed.
Lucson: Found sothing in the staff records. You need to see this.
Grayson stood, reluctant to leave but knowing he had to. "I need to check sothing with Lucson. Mason stays outside the door. Don’t—"
"I know. Don’t leave. Don’t go near windows. Don’t do anything that requires rescue." Mailah’s expression was dry. "I’ve morized the protocols, Grayson. I won’t make you regret leaving alone."
He studied her face for a mont, then nodded. "I’ll be back within the hour."
"I’ll be here."
He moved toward the door, then stopped. Turned back. Crossed to her in three quick strides and kissed her for the nth ti today— completely inappropriate given the crisis situation.
When he released her, her eyes were wide, her lips parted.
Then he was gone, leaving her staring after him, touching her lips, and trying to convince herself that cold, tactical demons didn’t do things like that unless they ant them.
In the security center, Lucson had files spread across three monitors. Personnel records. Background checks. Reference letters.
"What am I looking at?" Grayson asked.
"The three missing staff mbers. All hired within the last eight months. All with impeccable references from companies that exist but have no actual record of employing them." Lucson pulled up another screen. "But that’s not the interesting part. Look at who approved their hiring."
Grayson leaned closer, reading the authorization signatures.
His blood went cold.
"That’s impossible," he said quietly.
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