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team—alone?”

“Not the point,” Cade said, waving Hep’s words away. “Jen may have been a threat against the Unholy, but she never stood a chance against Velos. Her blade couldn’t stop him or that black energy it emits.”

“And this thing can?”

“Yes, it can and more.”

“Who would be insane enough to unleash a dark blade? On other Hunters?”

“Way above my pay grade,” Cade said. “I’m more concerned with stopping the bastard that killed Jen. He won’t stop with her. He’s on some righteous crusade against the Order—Hunters especially.”

Hep nodded, his expression grim.

“Cesca was the first,” he said. “He killed her and left Hector alive to tell the tale. Something about bringing the end. Hector was taken off-duty.”

“Losing your Hunter throws you,” Cade said. “Some never recover. Hector is strong. He’ll come back from this.”

“This Velos is being used,” Hep said, rubbing his chin. “Someone else, someone powerful in Regional had to sanction putting him on the street with a dark blade.”

“Hep, do not pursue that train of thought,” Cade said. “It can only lead to a dead-end. Literally. Focus on the task at hand. Do you think you can do it?”

“I thought, when it came to these blades, only Hunter blades could stop other Hunter blades?”

“Stop thinking like a Hunter and start thinking like a weapons master. Not everything is solved with a blade. Sometimes a gun is just as good, if not better.”

“True. According to my studies, rift guns were banned because they were unstable and lethal. Especially for the shooter.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“What if it misfires or kills you?”

“Misfire? I doubt it. Kill me? Possible,” Cade admitted. “How soon can you get it operational?”

“A rift gun needs a fissure or access to the rift to work properly,” Hep said. “All surface rift sources were sealed long ago. I can make sure the wards are unobstructed and that everything is in the right place, but how will you use the weapon?”

“The Gray has old maps of the fissures,” Cade said. “I’m going to need one of those and compact drilling equipment.”

“Those things were sealed for a reason,” Hep said. “Too much exposure to a rift is deadly for us. We’re not Unholy.”

“Understood,” Cade said. “The less attention you attract, the better. You need to do this discreetly.”

“I have another shop I can use. It’s my personal workshop.”

“Does anyone else know about this shop?” Cade asked. “Anyone in the Gray?”

“Only Gan knows about it.”

“Are you certain?” Cade asked. “Working on a banned weapon will bring you all kinds of heat.”

“Then I guess I’m in the right company,” Hep said. “Word on the street is that you’ve gone TAG-Terminated Awol Gunman.”

“Bullshit,” Cade said. “They need a way to stop me. Giving me a TAG designation is the best way.”

“Is this going to be enough?” Hep asked. “What about Sepia?”

“What about her?” Cade asked, suddenly defensive. “What happened?”

“She’s missing,” Hep said. “There are rumors—”

“Rumors? What rumors?”

“She’s gone dark. She’s turned into some kind of Unholy.”

“Impossible.”

“I agree,” Hep said. “The Gray are mobilizing our task force to confront her.”

“Gan agreed to this?” Cade asked in disbelief. “No way would he mobilize against her.”

“Shit, Gan is missing,” Hep said. “This was requested direct from Regional.”

“Regional? Since when is Regional concerned with Gray activity?”

“Since never,” Hep said. “This feels off. The request came through official channels.”

“Someone is pulling strings,” Cade said. “Think you can access who sent the request?”

“With enough time, sure, but I have to be indirect about it.”

“Do it,” Cade said. “Get me that map and the rift gun. Leave finding a rift to me.”

“Give me a day or two on the map and gun,” Hep said. “How will I find you?”

“I’ll find you.”

SIXTEEN

Destin had always possessed the ability to sense targets before her. It’s what made them such a lethal team. He could sense them, she could assess them. Together, they would eliminate them.

One or two packs of Dreadwolves, however, would be taking on unneeded risk. The mission was to locate the Hunter and report back, not take on Dreadwolves and die a horrific death in the Park.

“Which way?” Pira asked. “Trajectory?”

“One pack coming in from the west, the other heading straight our way from the north,” Destin said. “Since we’re doing a minimal footprint, are we avoiding the welcoming committee?”

“If we can, yes,” Pira answered, sheathing her blades. “I’d rather not engage until absolutely necessary. Preferably after we have the information we’re here for. The Hunter’s Keep is due east from here”—Pira pointed into the night—“straight that way.”

“I’m sure we can evade Dreadwolves,” Destin said with a smile. “It’ll be just like stealth training back in the day.”

Destin began moving east, with Pira behind him.

“Is it possible we engaged in different exercises?” Pira asked. “I don’t seem to recall our stealth drills including Dreadwolves.”

“I know,” Destin said. “Pity. That would’ve made them more interesting.”

Pira shook her head as they became silent and moved quickly through the trees. A few minutes later, howls filled the night. Pira and Destin stood still.

Pira tapped her temple, pointed to her eyes, and then pointed outward. Where are they? Destin responded to her question by tapping two fingers to his opposite shoulder and then motioning left, before making a fist and sweeping his arm right. Two hundred meters west. Route clear north and east.

Pira nodded and picked up the pace, continuing east. It was several minutes before she realized they were being tracked. They both stopped. It made no sense to continue—whoever or whatever was tracking them posed a serious threat.

Both were experts in masking and remaining unseen. If someone or something was managing to follow them, it meant they were using extranormal abilities. Confrontation was the best course of action.

To continue would compromise the mission. Better to deal with the threat now and continue undetected, than lead whatever it was right to the Keep and their objective.

“What is it?” Pira asked, keeping her voice low as she drew her blades. “It doesn’t read like Dreadwolves.”

“You’re not going to like my answer,” Destin said,

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