Page 63 of The Brothers Bane

Now, we play our hand. I signal to Kol through the earpiece “Stand by, Sybil’s on the move. Get ready for Campe’s entrance.”

Tonight, we’re a machine, and every cog must turn perfectly. My focus narrows to each movement, each breath of my team. We can’t afford any mistakes—not with so much at stake.

I stand by the bar, my back to the clinking of glasses and the murmur of conversation. My gaze is locked on the hallway where Pan disappeared with Sybil in tow. Every second feels like an eternity, my muscles coiled, ready to spring into action or to abort the mission if it goes south. The hallway remains quiet, too quiet, and it sets my nerves on edge.

“Anything?”I reach out to Cerberus, not wanting to distract Pan from his mark. The hound should be patrolling the very corridor I stare at, but I haven’t seen him since Pan disappeared down its length.

“He’s with her. Door’s closed,”Cerberus finally says.“What will Nemea think? We’re hers. He shouldn’t let the tentacled bitch touch him.”

A laugh, too loud and too close, draws my attention away from a question I don’t have an answer for back to the main room. We have more important things to worry about than what Nemea thinks.

I scan the sea of faces, searching for the one face that should be easy to spot. But Chaos isn’t there. He’s not shaking hands or flashing that not-quite-perfect smile. A bead of sweat trails down my spine despite the cool air of the penthouse.

My fingers tap an impatient rhythm against the glass I’ve been nursing. It’s a cover, a prop to blend in, but right now it feels like a lifeline, grounding me to the spot. Where the hell did he go?

Relief washes over me as Sybil emerges from the hallway, her eyes locking onto mine. She gives me a subtle nod, the smallest tilt of her head that speaks volumes. My gods, the likeness is perfect.

Campe’s voice buzzes in my ear,“Pan has her wrapped around his little finger. Go to the vault. I’ll find Chaos.”

The tension doesn’t ebb, though. It morphs, shifts into a sharper edge. I can’t shake the feeling that we’re being watched, that Chaos is one step ahead. I move, casual but purposeful, heading toward the vault to wait while my team acts.

“Kol, Chrysaor, you got eyes on Chaos?” My voice is calm, but the undercurrent of urgency is there, impossible to mask completely.

A pause, then Kol’s voice is in my ear, low and even, “Negative. No sign of him.”

Chrysaor chimes in, his tone tinged with frustration, “Same here. He’s a ghost.”

We’re running out of time, but we can’t proceed without Chaos. I press my lips together, weighing our options, which are uncomfortably slim.

Campe’s voice cuts through my thoughts,“Head down, Vesh. I’m on his trail. I’ll let you know when I have him.”

Kol’s shadow form slinks along close behind her, a silent guardian ready to snatch up Chaos’ essence and deliver it to me when I reach the vault.

The elevator ride down feels like descending into the abyss. The closer I get to the vault, the more the silence presses in around me. I can feel the weight of the building above, the thrum of life that I’m leaving behind. I’m going deep, down to where the secrets are kept, where the true power lies hidden.

My hand rests on the elevator wall, the vibration of our descent a steady thrum against my palm. It’s a reassurance, a reminder that I’m still moving, that I’m in control. For now.

The doors slide open with a soft chime, and I step out into the corridor leading to the vault. The air is cooler here, the opulence of the penthouse a distant memory. This is a place of steel and stone, of locks and keys.

I keep my steps silent, my senses alert.

I’m not even halfway down the corridor when the first prickles of unease skitter across my skin. It’s too quiet, too easy. There’s a rhythm to security, a dance of lights and sounds that tells you everything’s in place, everything’s on guard. But tonight, the rhythm’s gone. It’s a silence that doesn’t belong.

My footsteps echo, hollow and lonely, as I advance. Each step is a question, each breath a doubt. There are no guards, the cameras are dormant, no lasers paint invisible webs in the air. I altered the program to avoid detection, but not to this extreme. I can’t shake the feeling of walking into a trap, but I keep moving. The plan’s in motion, and I can’t stop now.

Reaching out with my mind, I search for my team.“Campe, report. Anyone seen Chaos?”I need to know I’m not the only one who feels it, that the world hasn’t just tilted on its axis.

Static silence. No sign of Chaos, no sign of anyone. The corridor might as well be a tomb for all the life it shows.

Kol should be slithering down ventilation shafts, the essence in his shadowy grasp, but I’m standing here with nothing but open air and questions. I should’ve been able to just snap my fingers and appear where I needed to be, but the magic woven into the bones of this place denies me that convenience. It’s a slow crawl, a mortal’s pace, and it’s chafing at my soul.

The end of the corridor looms, the vault door a gaping maw in the dim light. It’s open. Wide open. My heart doesn’t skip a beat—it hammers, a drumbeat of fury and fear.

“Everyone, stop. Get to me, now!”The command is a snarl in my mind, a call to arms. Something’s gone sideways, and I can feel the threads of our plan unraveling. If they’re able to teleport to my side, it’ll confirm my suspicions.

Pan is the first to arrive, hair disheveled but otherwise still put together.

Campe appears next, her form materializing from the shadows. “I couldn’t find him, Vesh. He’s?—”

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