Page 54 of Girl, Unseen

Murmurs rippled through the assembled faithful. Luca kept his posture neutral, but his mind raced. This was not what he'd expected. He'd imagined some wannabe wizard in robes, spouting nonsense about chakras and crystal energy. Instead, he faced someone who looked likehe'd stepped out of a future where technology and mysticism had merged into something new.

Ezra raised his hands.

‘Brothers. We have much to discuss. But first, place your tools to the ground. We’re all safe here.’

Tools to the ground?The hell did that mean?

The words didn't make sense until the first one appeared.

Each cult member reached into pockets, waistbands and jackets and produced a lethal harvest.

Guns.

Cold sweat prickled Luca's spine as the weapons clattered to the concrete. They made a ring of steel around their circle. A semi-automatic, two revolvers, one Smith & Wesson, one Beretta.

Jesus fucking Christ.Felix hadn't said a word about this. Not one goddamn word about everyone being armed. If they made him as a fed, this wasn't just going sideways – this was turning into a firing squad with him as the guest of honor.

No way to warn Ella. No way to signal that he was sitting in a room with enough firepower to start a small war. He had the sudden, vivid image of his obituary:Rookie FBI agent gets ventilated playing dress-up with cultists.

Ezra turned those insect-eye goggles toward him. Luca's instincts screamed at him to run, to fight, to do anything but stand there like a rabbit in the hawk's shadow.

‘Welcome back, Brother Nine. The Order forgives. But please, put your tools on the ground. We're all family here.’

Shit shit shit.Felix, you fucking weasel, you couldn't have mentioned this little initiation rite?Luca's mind raced, desperately seeking an out, an excuse, any way to avoid this test of twisted faith.

But there was none. Ezra's gaze bored into him, through him, stripping flesh from bone and lie from truth. Slowly, feeling like he was moving through molasses, Luca reached for his gun.

He placed it on the floor with the others, trying to keep his movements smooth, practiced, like he did this every Wednesday night.

Seven guns plus his made eight. Eight chances for this whole thing to go monumentally wrong.

He was in the belly of the beast now, unarmed, with nothing but his wits and his wavering will to see him through. This was not what he'd signed up for. This was not what any of them had signed up for.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Ella had forgotten how much undercover surveillance felt like waiting for a time bomb to go off. Static crackled through the SUV's speakers as she and Ross huddled in darkness. From their vantage point a block away, Madame Butterfly's was just another shadow among shadows.

Ross’ earpiece dangled around his neck - he'd complained about the feedback ten minutes in.

‘Tools to the ground?’ Ella asked. ‘What the hell does that mean?’

Ross shrugged. His tie had come loose and his collar was undone like it had given up on life. ‘Some kind of cult language maybe? These groups love their special vocabulary.’

‘Yeah, but tools?’ Ella cranked up the volume. The feed crackled with static and muffled breathing. She'd insisted on the best equipment available, but technology had a way of failing just when you needed it most.

Through the laptop's tinny speakers, Ezra Crowley's voice rolled like thunder in an empty church. ‘Brothers and sisters. The elements wait for no one. Time flows like water, burns like fire, grounds us like earth, lifts us like air.’

More metaphysical nonsense. Ella repeatedly slapped the steering wheel to a beat that matched her pulse, somewhere around 120 beats per minute. She shouldn't have sent Luca in there alone. Four months as her partner, and she'd already thrown him to the wolves. Some mentor she was turning out to be.

‘We should just take them,’ she said. ‘Full tactical team. Breach and clear.’

Ross' eyes stayed fixed on the screen. ‘On what grounds? Being weird isn't illegal.’

'No, but two of our victims had those symbols carved next to their bodies.' She reached for her phone and then stopped. One call to Edis and she could have a SWAT team here in fifteen minutes. But then what? They'd scatter like roaches, destroy evidence, go deeper underground. And if one of them was their killer, it was a wasted opportunity.

Plus, iftoolsmeant weapons, then rushing in could get messy.

‘The ancient texts speak of transformation,’ Ezra's voice continued through the feed. ‘Not of metal into gold, but of consciousness into higher forms. The elements are not mere building blocks - they are gateways.’

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