Page 29 of Lost in Fire

Chapter 11

Vanya

The elevator climbs through the Syndicate Towers, giving me a few precious moments alone to gather my thoughts before facing the world that sees me as the Ivory League’s secret weapon.

It’s been twenty-four hours since I questioned Hargen in that sterile chamber. Since then, I’ve picked apart every word, every micro-expression, every careful breath while he spun his lies.

He remembered the third option.

I just pray that he understands that I was forced to take it that day. Not to die. Not to betray him. But to survive in the only way available to me. And thank God that I did, or the child I didn’t know I was carrying would have died with me that day.

My fingers brush the tablet containing my preliminary report as the elevator slows. The doors slide open to reveal my executive floor. I expect the usual quiet—Marek at his desk, reviewing schedules, the soft hum of everyday operations.Instead, Vex waits in my outer office, his solid frame making my assistant’s workspace look cramped.

“Elder Arrowvane.” Marek shoots me a look that saysI tried to warn you.“Elder Vex and Director Creed insisted on waiting rather than scheduling an appointment.”

Of course they did. Vex has never been one for protocol when he wants something. And Creed is increasingly showing himself to be the man’s personal attack dog.

“Thank you, Marek. Hold my calls.” I gesture toward my inner office. “Elder Vex. Director.”

Creed emerges from behind Marek’s desk, where he’d been studying my assistant’s computer screen. Probably searching for signs of disloyalty or hidden communications. The man sees conspiracy in coffee orders.

Paranoid bastards.

But their suspicion keeps me sharp, keeps my cover intact.

I glance over my shoulder at them as I make my way into the office. “This is unexpected. I assume you’re here about my preliminary assessment?”

Vex’s mechanical nod carries weight. “Among other things. Shall we?”

My office door closes behind us. Vex settles into the chair across from my desk while Creed continues his restless pacing near the windows, wound tight enough to snap.

I sink into my tall, leather office chair and place my tablet on the polished surface between us.

“So,” Vex begins without bothering with small talk, “what have you found?”

“The subject’s story has enough truth to seem convincing,” I begin, keeping my voice steady and cold. “His account of manipulation through the handler bond shows he understands Rossewyn magical techniques. The psychological markers fit with genuine coercion.”

Vex leans forward, suddenly more interested. “You believe he was legitimately compromised?”

“To a degree.” I pause, letting the qualifier hang between us. “But he’s holding back. Information he thinks is too dangerous to reveal in a formal interrogation.”

Creed stops pacing, turning toward me with sharp interest. “What kind of information?”

I meet his gaze through my mask, staying calm while my mind races through the careful truths I need to weave. “Aurora’s security goes deeper than he’s admitted. The network of contacts within our ranks—it’s bigger than his initial testimony suggests.”

The words taste bitter, but they serve their purpose. The elder perks up immediately.

“I suspected as much.” Vex’s satisfaction shows in his posture. “The pattern of interference we’ve tracked suggests coordination, not random mercy. What else did he say?”

“Not much more than he told our initial interrogators.” I shrug.

“Despite your efforts?” Vex’s satisfaction levels drop a notch. “How could that be?”

“The subject fears retaliation,” I continue. “From possible traitors in our ranks with Aurora associations. His cooperation would increase significantly if I could get him outside.”

Creed’s scaled skin shifts beneath his uniform. “Outside how?”

“Remove him from the interrogation chamber. Create an atmosphere that suggests partnership rather than hostile examination.” I lean back, projecting confident assessment. “Fear shuts people down. Trust—even fake trust—opens them up.”

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