Caterina sat at the head of the long, narrow table; around her, the inner circle gathered in taut silence, half a dozen Crow lieutenants and two of the handlers from the northern districts. The air crackled with unanswered questions, and no one was fool enough to speak first.
Lucanis leaned against the stone wall near the far end of the chamber, arms crossed, eyes sharp. He hadn't said much since the message came. Another safehouse hit. Another four operatives taken out. Not killed - no blood, no screams, just gone quiet and dragged back in, bound and humiliated. And worse this time.
One of them had a crude ink drawing smeared across his face. A dick. Anatomically detailed and to scale, apparently, according to the healer who scrubbed it off.
That detail had circulated fast.
It was the sort of thing that would have been funny if it weren't so deliberate. So surgical. And so devastating.
"They knew what that house was for," Caterina said, voice low, velvet-wrapped steel. "And they didn't just go for coin. They took everything. Letters, threats, debt markers. Our leverage." She let that word hang in the air, sharp as glass. "Years of work. Gone."
She looked at no one. And everyone.
"And they didn't even kill the guards."
A few glances were exchanged around the table. No one dared speak.
Caterina turned her head slightly, as if hearing something only she could hear. "Four Crows downed. Not one fatal wound. All restrained. And left alive."
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.
"One of them with a rather detailed drawing of male anatomy scrawled across his face in ink."
Lucanis didn't move, but the tension in his jaw grew visible.
The first of the captured operatives was brought in by the guards, his wrists still red from rope. He stood, rigid, in front of the table, eyes flickering toward Caterina and quickly away.
"What happened?" she asked.
"I didn't see them," he said immediately. "They moved fast. Quiet. I was on patrol outside the study door. I remember smelling something sharp - alchemical, maybe - then everything slowed. Next thing I knew, I was tied up on the floor."
"They say you were left unconscious for several hours," Lucanis said, stepping forward now, his voice low and even. "They had time."
The man swallowed. "They could have killed us. They didn't."
"Why not?"
"I don't know."
Caterina's eyes narrowed. "Did they say anything?"
"Nothing that I heard; it happened so fast."
The next operative was brought in. Then the next. All of them told the same story in different words: a blur of movement, a scent, pressure on the neck, blackness. All of them carried the bruises of restraint, none of battle.
The fourth was the one with the drawing. He didn't speak at first. Just stood there, jaw clenched, face still faintly pink from the scrubbing. There were murmurs around the table. A twitch of amusement. Then silence again.
Caterina didn't mock him. That wasn't her way. But she did tilt her head.
"Tell me," she said. "Why do you think they spared you?"
The man was silent for a long time. Then, finally, with bitterness in his voice. "They didn't see us as threats."
Lucanis watched the way that admission landed across the room. Soft, but heavy.
After a few more questions Caterina dismissed the man with a wave of her hand. The guards took him away, and the door closed behind them with a final, echoing sound.
Silence settled again, and Caterina stood. Her presence filled the space like cold water rushing into a sealed room.
"This isn't coincidence. This is design. Every strike more precise than the last. And every one aimed not at our bodies, but at our foundation. They are trying to tear out our roots."
She looked to the assembled Crows, her voice hardening.
"Find me the leak. I don't care if it's in the walls or sleeping in your bed. I want them named. I want everything rechecked. Safehouses. Contacts. Even your own homes. Any of you could have been followed. Any of you could be the reason they know what they know."
One of the lieutenants spoke up. "With respect, First Talon, this isn't just an informant. They move like us."
"Yes," Lucanis said, his voice cutting through the room. "Which means whoever it is, they were well trained."
Another silence. Caterina studied him, a flicker of something passing through her gaze. Then she turned back to the table.
"Find me the leak," she said. "I want them named. Quietly. And I want their work undone before it spreads."
She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.
-
The door creaked softly as it opened, the hinges long since oiled to silence. Tai slipped in first, followed by Evie, both still dressed in inconspicuous layers. Nothing that screamed break-in crew. Their packs were slung over their shoulders, heavy with stolen secrets.
They smiled in greeting at Hirik and Kieran, who were still waiting up for them.
Tai was already grinning. "That was fun," he sighed dreamily.
Evie arched a brow as she pushed the door shut behind them. "You mean the part where we robbed a fortified safehouse in record time, or the part where you defaced someone's face like a delinquent with too much ink?"
He dropped his pack with a thud, swaggering into the room with all the satisfaction of a cat bringing home a mangled bird. "I stand by it," he said proudly. "It was elegant. Balanced. The line work, Evie, it had emotion."
Evie snorted, kicking off her boots. "Unnecessary."
"Maybe," Tai said, flopping back onto the worn cushions, "but we had time. And I refuse to apologise for being funny. I wish I could see the look on his face. Do you think the other Crows told him or just let him wear it for a while?"
They moved efficiently through their well-practiced routine. In their bedroom area, Evie shifted the mattress and pulled up the loose floorboards beneath, revealing the hidden compartment below. It was deeper than it looked. Cloth-wrapped ledgers, sealed packets of coin, forged letters, and now... a new stack of blackmail material.
She passed the folder down to Tai, who slipped it into the space with reverence. "And thus, the empire of stolen sins expands," he said, pressing the floorboard back into place with a soft click.
"Remind me never to let you name anything important," Evie muttered.
"You're late," Kieran said, voice mild, but his eyes scanned both of them with practised concern.
Tai threw his arms wide. "Fashionably."
"You're whole," Hirik added. "So that's something."
Evie dropped her pack by the door and stretched with a satisfied sigh. "Safehouse is empty. Four Crows out cold. Everything worth having is under our mattress now."
"Didn't even draw blood," Tai added. "Except maybe pride."
"Oh, and he vandalised someone's face," Evie said, deadpan, as she collapsed onto the seat beside Kieran.
Kieran blinked. "He what?"
"Incredible technique," Evie said solemnly. "Very expressive. I think he missed his calling."
Tai preened. "Thank you. I was going for an anatomically bold statement. Possibly a career pivot. Erotica sells, so I've heard."
Evie leaned her head on Kieran's shoulder, smiling despite herself. "Yes, Tai the smut peddler."
Tai waggled his eyebrows, beaming.
Laughter rippled through the room. The air was warm with success, rich with the strange alchemy of adrenaline and safety that only came after a flawless job.
"Here's to crime," Tai said, raising an imaginary glass.
Evie lifted her hand in a half-hearted toast. "And to artistic obscenity."
Kieran smiled into his tea, arm curling gently around Evie's shoulders. "We're going to get ourselves killed."
"Eventually," Tai said, kicking his feet up. "But not tonight."