Chapter 14
DANIELLE
The drive back to Willowberry felt like racing against a ticking time bomb.
One we couldn't see but could hear counting down in our heads.
My hands were shaking as I spread what we'd collected across the dining room table.
There were photographs, business cards, surveillance reports, and witness statements.
They painted a picture more disturbing than anything I'd dealt with in the NICU.
At least when babies crashed, you knew what you were fighting.
This felt like treating a patient whose symptoms kept changing faster than you could adapt.
"Okay," I said, channeling every ounce of energy as everyone gathered around the table. "We need to connect these dots before someone else disappears."
Thomas had insisted on coming with us from the cemetery. Margaret and Sarah sat near the windows while Cyran’s other relatives milled around outside. Kaitlyn and Kaveh were talking to Cyran across the hall. Hopefully, they would join us soon.
Phi pulled out her tablet and began creating what looked like a murder board. "Let's start with what we know for certain. Professor Martin LeClair visited multiple sites, asking questions about Guardian families and their traditions."
"No doubt he's really Marcus Drake," Kota said, holding up one of Thomas's sketches. "Look at the facial features in this drawing of Michel Drake—the original traitor from 1853. Now compare them to the witness descriptions of our fake professor."
I'd had similar suspicions, and no doubt all of my sisters did too. The resemblance was becoming clear once you knew what to look for. "How can we prove Professor LeClair is either Michel Drake or his descendant?" I asked.
"I can prove it," Phi interjected, her fingers flying across her tablet screen. "The internet is a magical tool."
She pulled up a series of images. They were from social media profiles, university faculty photos, and even LinkedIn accounts. They all showed the same man using different names and credentials across multiple states.
"Dr. Michael Leclerc at my university. Although I have never run across him at Tulane," she pointed out. "Professor Mark Drexel at LSU, Dr. Martin Clarke at the University of Virginia. He's been using variations of the same identity to track Guardian families."
"Son of a bitch," Dre breathed, studying the photos over Phi's shoulder. "How long has he been doing this?"
"Based on the academic records I can access through the university database, at least five years," Phi replied. "Maybe longer. He creates fake credentials and gets temporary research positions. He looks into the Guardian bloodlines and then disappears before anyone can verify his background."
"If Marcus has been running a long-term intelligence operation, he'd need a base of operations," I said, pieces clicking together in my head like a particularly twisted puzzle.
"Somewhere he could analyze data, coordinate surveillance, and store artifacts," Dre agreed, already checking her weapons. "He would need somewhere isolated enough that neighbors wouldn't ask questions about unusual activity."
Thomas looked up from examining the surveillance equipment. "There's an old shipping warehouse in the Bywater that's been abandoned since Katrina. The spirits have been... uneasy about that area lately. They say it's dangerous and have been trying to get me to go look around."
"That's got to be our target," I decided. "We should go check it out."
"Absolutely not," Kaitlyn's voice was curt as she and Kaveh finally joined us. "You're not going into a potential trap without backup."
"We don’t exactly have a choice," I said.
"Which is why we’re going with you,” Kaveh interjected with a smile. “I’ve been wanting to get in on this investigation.”
"Thank the gods," I blurted as I fought the urge to throw my arms around the djinn leader’s neck.
"We do this smart,” Dre said as she lifted a finger in the air. “We stick together and keep our protection amulets on us at all times."
"Speaking of smart," Kaveh added, "I can teleport us directly there. No need to drive across town again and risk being spotted by more surveillance."
"Can you transport all of us at once?" Lucas asked.
"Ten people?" Kaveh considered. "It'll be tight, but manageable. Though I should warn you—teleporting into unknown magical territory carries risks. If Marcus has warded the area against magical transport..."
"We could end up scattered across three parishes," Kaitlyn finished grimly. "Or worse."
"It’s worth the risk. If we drive out there, we risk giving him advance warning," Noah pointed out. "If this place is as heavily surveilled as the tunnels, he'll know we're coming the moment we turn onto his street."
I looked around at the group. It was either the perfect strike team or the most chaotic magical clusterfuck waiting to happen. It really could go either way. For my sisters and me, it usually involved a bit of both that helped us to win the day.
"Alright," I decided. "Kaveh, can you get us close without landing us directly in whatever trap Marcus might have waiting?"
"Let me survey the area first," he said, his form beginning to shimmer. "I'll scout the perimeter, find the best insertion point, then come back for you."
He vanished in a swirl of smoke and flame.
Lia and Dre were checking their go-bags and getting ready to leave.
I hadn’t used anything from mine, so I knew I was good.
Still, I checked to be sure, focusing on my dagger.
The last thing I wanted was to be caught without a weapon.
Kaveh reappeared with a satisfied expression as I moved my knife to my waistband for easier access.
"Good news and bad news," he announced. "Bad news. The place is crawling with surveillance equipment and what I'm pretty sure are motion-triggered magical wards. Good news. I found a blind spot."
"Define blind spot," Kota said suspiciously.
"There's a maintenance area on the north side where the surveillance coverage has a gap," Kaveh explained. "It's probably an oversight in their security setup. I can put us down right there."
"Do it," I said. "But if we end up scattered across Louisiana, I'm holding you personally responsible."
Kaveh's grin was distinctly unrepentant. "Wouldn't have it any other way."
The teleportation felt like being squeezed through a tube of ice water while lightning coursed through my veins.
It was incredibly unpleasant but over before I could work up a complaint.
When the world solidified around us, we were standing directly under a cluster of surveillance cameras in what was definitely not a blind spot.
"Kaveh," I said through gritted teeth as red lights began blinking on every piece of equipment within sight.
"Ah," he said, looking around at the very obvious cameras pointed directly at us. "That's... not where I intended to put us."
"You think?" Dre snarled as alarm sirens began wailing from inside the warehouse.
"Well," Kaveh said with forced cheer, "at least we know the surveillance system works."
"Since stealth is officially off the table," Dre said, pulling out what looked like a small crystal that pulsed with soft blue light, "might as well go with the nuclear option. It’s your EMF dampener.”
Phi’s face brightened. “Oh! We haven’t tested that, but it should scramble any electronics within a fifty-yard radius." I crossed my fingers that it worked. I hadn’t realized Phi had finished the device.
Dre activated the device, and I watched the red lights on the cameras above us flicker and die. The wailing alarms went next. Sometimes it paid to have a sister whose hobbies included magical gadgetry that would make government spooks weep with envy.
The warehouse's main entrance was secured with locks that would have challenged a professional thief.
There were multiple deadbolts and a reinforced security bar across the door.
"We need to tackle these together and fast," Lia said as she moved toward the entrance.
"Before whoever's inside can gather their attack. "
The alarms had stopped when Dre killed the surveillance system. That didn't mean we weren't expected now. If anything, the sudden silence was more ominous than the wailing sirens.
"There are multiple magical signatures inside," Phi reported. "At least three, maybe four. And they're moving."
"Then we definitely don't have time for finesse," Dre added, cracking her knuckles. "Everyone channel into me—I'll be the focal point."
We formed a quick circle in front of the door.
Each of us placed a hand on Dre's shoulders or back.
A familiar tingle traveled up my arm as our magic linked together.
Our different types of power flowed into Dre's technical expertise, like tributaries feeding a river.
She directed it into a concentrated battering ram of supernatural force.
This wasn't about elegance or subtlety; it was about raw, overwhelming power applied with surgical precision to one specific target.
The locks disintegrated. Our combined magical sledgehammer hit the security system like a freight train made of pure energy. Deadbolts vaporized, the security bar crumbled to dust, and the reinforced door frame cracked under the assault before the door swung open with a groan of defeated metal.
What should have been a twenty-minute lockpicking job had taken thirty seconds of coordinated magical assault. We slipped inside like we belonged there. Though, after Kaveh's spectacular landing under the surveillance cameras, subtlety was probably a lost cause anyway.