Page 77 of Lost in Fire

“Now. Tonight, if possible.”

“Who is she?”

“Complicated.” I run a hand through my hair, trying to find words that won’t require explaining too many years of lies. “Someone I thought was dead. Someone who matters.”

Lila pauses for a moment, probably mulling over my motivations. After all the time we spent together, she knows me better than most.

“You pulled me out of hell, Hargen,” she says simply. “Just tell me what you need.”

“Access to Syndicate headquarters. Intelligence on current security protocols. A way inside that doesn’t trigger every alarm they have.”

“I’ll contact Caleb Craven. His clan has resources that could help.” She pauses. “This is about the message you received, isn’t it? The one that made you leave in such a hurry.”

“Yes,” I acknowledge, feeling guilty that I never had a chance to explain.

Papers rustle in the background. “Give me two hours to coordinate.”

“Thank you.”

“Just don’t do anything until we reach you.”

The line goes dead. I pocket the device and head for the door, already mentally cataloging the weapons and supplies I’ll need.

I stop short as pain explodes through my skull again—different this time. Not the sharp agony of her distress, but something worse.

Emptiness.

The bond goes silent. Not quiet—silent. Like a void where Vanya should be, a missing piece of my soul suddenly torn away. It suddenly occurs to me that her presence has been so quietlyconsistent for so long that I never actually realized she’s been there all along. And now it’s gone.

I stumble, catching myself against the doorframe. Viktor moves to steady me.

“What happened?” he asks urgently.

“The bond is gone.” My voice sounds hollow to my own ears. “There’s nothing there anymore; she’s just… gone.”

Viktor’s expression darkens with understanding. “Dragon binding chains. They’ve completely isolated her from external magic.”

“What does that mean?” Ember asks, fear threading through her voice.

“It means they know exactly what she is,” Viktor says grimly. “And they’re taking no chances.”

I straighten, forcing strength into my legs. The emptiness where Vanya’s presence lived for decades feels like a wound that won’t heal. But I shove the pain aside, focusing on what matters.

She’s alive. Cut off, isolated, probably terrified—but alive. The binding chains wouldn’t be necessary otherwise.

“Two hours,” I say, checking my watch. “That’s how long I have to prepare.”

Viktor watches me from his doorway as I head toward the armory. “Hargen,” he calls as I reach the threshold.

I turn back.

“Don’t let emotion cloud your judgment. You’re no good to her dead.”

“I’ll bring her home,” I say, already moving. “If she’s still alive, I’ll bring her home.”

The words carry more determination than hope. Because once again, this woman has me rushing headlong into enemy territory. But I’ve spent decades in the intelligence game; I know the risks, and I’m willing to take them.

I just pray that it’s not too late when I get there.

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