Page 49 of Soulmarked

I felt Cade shift beside me, ready to respond, but Rowan raised a hand.

“The Council will see you now.” She turned, robes swirling. “Try to be more entertaining than the last outsiders we judged.”

As we followed her deeper into the mansion, I caught Cade's eye. He nodded slightly. This wasn't just a meeting. It was a trial.

“Before we begin,” Cade said, his voice echoing in the marble hallway, “I need to ask about someone who claims to be a hunter. Calls himself The Guardian.”

Every muscle in my body tensed. That name hit like a punch to the gut, dragging up memories I'd rather forget. The Guardian, Hallow's dirty little secret, the cautionary tale they told recruits about what happened when you broke the code.

Rowan stopped mid-stride, her perfectly composed mask cracking just slightly. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Recent victim mentioned paying him for protection.” Cade's eyes flickered to me, noting my reaction. “Didn't work out well for them.”

I couldn't help the bitter laugh that escaped. “No, it wouldn't have. The Guardian's a fraud. A disgrace.” I spat the words like poison. “He takes money from desperate people, promises them safety from things they don't understand, then disappears when the real monsters show up.”

“You know him.” It wasn't a question.

“Knew,” I corrected, watching Rowan's face carefully. “Damian O'Brien. Used to be one of our best before he decided selling fake protection was more profitable than actually hunting.”

Rowan's expression darkened. “That name is not spoken here.”

“Why?” Cade pressed, either brave or stupid. Maybe both. “Because he betrayed your code, or because he knows something Hallow wants to keep buried?”

Smart. Too smart for his own good.

“Careful, Agent Cross.” Rowan's voice carried ice. “Curiosity has a price here.”

“People are dying,” Cade countered. “Whatever game O'Brien's playing, it's connected to something bigger. Something that has Phoenix Pharmaceuticals hiring vampires and marking victims with ancient sigils.”

That got Rowan's attention. Her eyes narrowed, power crackling in the air around us. “Show me.”

Cade pulled out his field notebook, flipping to the detailed pencil rubbings he'd made at the Sullivan crime scene. Even in graphite, the symbols seemed to pulse with malevolent intent, old magic, the kind Hallow usually kept under lock and key.

“My phone wouldn't work at the scene,” Cade explained as he spread the rubbings across the table. “Had to do it the old way. These were hidden under the desk, carved into the wood.”

“Jaysus,” I muttered, piecing it together.

Rowan studied the carefully traced symbols, her ageless face unreadable. “Perhaps it's time for a history lesson.” She gestured toward heavy wooden doors at the end of the hall. “The true history of Hallow.”

The Council chamber beyond was exactly as I remembered, stone walls covered in ancient weapons and older warnings, the air thick with centuries of power. As we entered, I fought the urge to cross myself. Some habits die hard, even for lapsed Catholics.

The room wasn't empty. Along the crescent-shaped table sat the five remaining members of Hallow's High Council, their faces etched with the gravity of their purpose. Elder Tomas, his weathered hands folded before him; Lady Verity with herblind eyes that somehow missed nothing; Colonel Harker, still in military posture despite being decades retired; Dr. Li, whose medical expertise had saved countless hunters; and the newest member, Isaiah Reed, dark-skinned and sharp-eyed, the only one under fifty.

They watched our entrance in calculating silence, weighing and measuring Cade with gazes that had assessed threats for longer than he'd been alive.

“Hallow wasn't created to hunt monsters,” I explained, watching Cade take in the room's oppressive atmosphere and its imposing occupants. “It was created to prevent war.”

“What kind of war?” Cade asked, his voice steady despite the scrutiny.

“The kind that would end your world.” I moved to one of the tapestries depicting scenes from that first conflict. “Thousands of years ago, something tried to break through from... elsewhere. Something old. Hungry. It nearly succeeded.”

“We lost half our number in that first battle,” Elder Tomas added, his Irish accent thicker than mine. “Before we even called ourselves Hallow.”

Cade absorbed this, his mind working faster than most. I could almost see him connecting dots, fitting this new information into patterns he'd already discovered.

“The wards around the city,” he said slowly. “They're not just for protection. They're containing something.”

“Perceptive,” Lady Verity murmured, her blind eyes somehow finding Cade's face. “Most don't grasp that so quickly.”

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