Chapter Nineteen
Julian felt the moment Cillian’s panic spiked through their bond. It was a sharp twist of fear wrapped around fury and pain.
“Something’s wrong.” Julian stood, abandoning his coffee. “They’re in trouble.”
Rook looked up from his phone, where he’d been scrolling recipes. “Thorn said to keep you here.”
“Thorn said a lot of things that turned out to be wrong.” Julian grabbed his jacket. “Cillian is hurt. I can feel it.”
“Jules, listen…”
“No. Either you take me to that industrial park right now, or I call a rideshare and go alone.” Julian met Rook’s amber-gold eyes. “Choose quickly.”
Rook’s edges of his human disguise slipped, showing another being with too many teeth. “Thorn’s going to be pissed.”
“Thorn can get in line behind Cillian, who left without telling me and is now trapped in some kind of suppression device that’s draining his essence. That’s the only explanation that makes sense.” Julian pulled on his jacket. “How fast can you get us there?”
“Five minutes if I don’t bother with traffic laws.” Rook stood, suddenly all predator beneath the casual leather and buckles. “But Jules, if they’re contained, that means whatever trapped them is specifically designed to hold guardians. If I go in there, I’m just another captured asset.”
“I know.” Julian’s mind raced through possibilities. “Which is why you’re not going in. I am.”
“That’s…”
“Logical. Whatever technology Vane is using, it targets Eldritch biology. I’m human. It won’t affect me.” Julian headed for the door. “And before you argue that I can’t fight, I’m aware. I’m not going to fight. I’m going to think.”
Rook followed him to the stairs. “Thorn specifically told me…”
“Thorn isn’t Cillian’s mate, I am.” Julian descended rapidly. “The bond goes both ways. If Cillian dies in that warehouse, do you want to explain to Thorn why you kept me here while I felt him being drained to nothing?”
That was one way of shutting Rook up. Julian didn’t need a debate, he needed to save his mate.
They reached Rook’s motorcycle, a matte black monster that looked like it could break the sound barrier. Julian climbed on behind him.
“Hold tight,” Rook said. “And Jules? Whatever happens, stay out of sight until you have a plan. Dead humans don’t save anybody.”
“Noted.”
The engine roared and Rook took off, navigating onto the road as if speed restrictions were a suggestion rather than a law.
Julian used the five minutes Rook promised to think.
Suppression technology designed for guardians would require either technological or magical components.
The apparatus from the 1952 manual used blood sacrifice for initialization and guardian essence for sustained operation.
Breaking it from the outside would require either destroying the physical structure or disrupting the ritual components that powered it.
He didn’t have weapons. He didn’t have magical ability. He had his brain and whatever tools he could find on site.
Through the bond, he felt Cillian’s desperation intensify. The message came through garbled - trap captured don’t - but the emotions underneath were crystal clear. Cillian was terrified. Not for himself, but for Julian.
I’m not letting you die for me, Julian sent back, not sure if Cillian could even receive it through whatever interference the apparatus created.
Rook pulled into an access road half a mile from the industrial park, killing the engine. “This is as close as I can get without being detected. Thorn just sent me a mental warning to stay the hell away.”
“He has good instincts.” Julian dismounted. “Can you sense them from here?”
Rook’s eyes flickered, shadows pooling briefly around his feet before he yanked them back.
“Yeah. They’re in the main warehouse, in the northeast corner.
Three guardian signatures, all contained.
One human, two guards. And something else - an energy signature that tastes like corruption and fresh blood. ”
“The apparatus, I imagine.”
“Probably.” Rook studied Julian. “You’re really going in there.”
“Yes.”
“You’re a tiny human who catalogs books for a living.”
“Cataloged. I believe I’m suspended, but that’s an issue for another day.” Julian started walking toward the industrial park. “I’m also Cillian’s mate, which means I’m the only person in this scenario who can approach that warehouse without triggering additional containment measures.”
“You don’t even have a weapon.”
“I have something better. I have information Vane doesn’t know I have.” Julian picked up his pace. “The 1952 manual described the apparatus’s mechanics in detail. I know its failure points.”
Rook followed, moving silently. “What failure points? We’ve never been able to find one before.”
“That’s because you’re the beings the trap was intended for.
The containment field requires continuous ritual focus to maintain guardian essence drain.
The focus point is typically a blood sigil inscribed on the apparatus itself.
The initialization sacrifice provides the power, but someone has to maintain the binding structure.
” Julian kept his voice low as they approached the perimeter.
“If I break the sigil, it will break the binding.”
“That requires getting inside a warehouse with armed guards and a man who built a guardian trap.”
“Yes.” Julian paused at the fence line. “Which is why I’m not going through the front door.”
He pulled out his phone and opened the tunnel schematics he’d provided Thorn. The old transport network ran beneath the entire district. According to his graduate research, there should be an access point approximately two hundred meters east.
“There.” Julian pointed to a maintenance shed half-hidden by overgrown weeds. “That connects to the underground system. If the warehouse was built on the original foundation - and the property records suggest it was - there should be a utility access inside.”
Rook shook his head. “You beautiful, terrifying little human. Thorn is going to hate that he likes you.”
They moved to the maintenance shed. The lock was rusted but functional. Rook snapped it easily, tossing it into the weeds. Fortunately, the shed was empty, and the tunnel access was easy to find.
The shaft descended into darkness. Julian climbed down the ladder, acutely aware that he was walking into a situation where his only advantages were surprise and knowledge. Through the bond, Cillian’s pain intensified.
Hold on, Julian sent. I’m coming.
The tunnel stunk of mildew and something dead - a rat most likely. Julian used his phone’s flashlight to navigate, following the schematics toward the warehouse’s foundation. Rook followed silently, shadows bleeding around him in a way that suggested his control was slipping.
“Are you all right?” Julian whispered.
“I can feel them. Thorn, Silas, Cillian - they’re all being drained. My instincts are screaming at me to either run or tear everything apart.” Rook’s voice had gone rough. “Tell me the plan before I do something stupid.”
“You’re staying in the tunnels as backup. I’m going up through the utility access, locating the apparatus, and disrupting the blood sigil.”
“How?”
“However I can.” Julian found the access ladder leading up into the warehouse basement. “If I’m not back in ten minutes, assume the worst and do whatever violent thing you’re currently fantasizing about.”
“Jules…”
“Cillian and the others will die if I don’t do this. That’s not acceptable.” Julian started climbing. “Watch the perimeter. If Vane has additional reinforcements, I need to know.”
He didn’t wait for Rook’s response.
The utility access opened into a storage basement. Julian emerged cautiously, listening for footsteps above. Male voices drifted down through the ceiling - one cold and professional, others uncertain.
“Should we move them now or wait…”
“We wait. I want confirmation from my contact first.”
That was Vane. Julian remembered the voice from the recording Silas had played during their initial briefing.
Julian crept toward the stairs. The first floor was partially visible through gaps in the old floorboards. He could see part of a large open space, industrial lighting, and the edge of something that pulsed with sickly red light.
The apparatus.
The one Vane had built appeared larger than the schematics had suggested.
Based on the curve Julian could see, he estimated it was nearly four meters in diameter, comprised of interlocking metal rings inscribed with symbols that were painful to look at directly.
Three forms were visible inside the containment field, flickering between human shapes and their Eldritch form.
Their shadows writhed weakly against invisible barriers.
Cillian stood closest to the apparatus’s edge, his human form barely maintained. Julian could see the strain in his posture, the way his shadows kept trying and failing to breach the barriers.
Two guards flanked the apparatus, both armed with guns that probably held something more volatile than regular bullets. Julian moved around as best he could until he could see Vane as well. The man stood near the warehouse entrance, phone to his ear.
Think about this. You’re only going to get one chance at getting this right.
Julian assessed the situation with the same clinical precision he applied to archival work.
Direct confrontation: impossible. Stealth approach: risky but feasible.
The blood sigil would be inscribed on the apparatus itself, probably on the largest ring, where it would be protected by the containment field’s outer edge.
He needed a distraction.
Julian pulled out his phone and texted Rook: Fire alarm in three minutes. Make it loud.
Then he crept up the stairs, staying low and using the warehouse’s support columns for cover.
As he got closer, he could see the symbols on the apparatus were definitely from the same tradition as the 1952 manual indicated.
A specific form of ritual magic that was designed to immobilize anything with Eldritch energy.
The sigil he needed would be at the base, where the initialization blood sacrifice had been poured.
I just have to get there before I get shot. Risky, but not impossible.
Through the bond, Cillian suddenly went rigid. His shadows lashed out violently against the containment, and Julian felt the responding drain of essence - pure agony transmitted directly into Julian’s nervous system.
Stop it, Julian sent desperately. Stop fighting it. I’m here.
Cillian’s head turned fractionally. Their eyes met across the warehouse.
The expression on Cillian’s face was devastating - relief, terror, fury, and something that looked dangerously close to pride.
Get out, Cillian’s response came through in fragments. Vane will…
“Gentlemen, I have good news,” Vane said, pocketing his phone. “My associate has confirmed the transport vehicle will arrive within the hour. Once you’re relocated, we can begin our...interviews properly.”
One of the guards shifted nervously. “Sir, are you sure about this? These things…”
“Are contained. As long as the apparatus remains powered and the sigil intact, they’re completely helpless.”
Julian’s phone vibrated silently. It was Rook’s confirmation: Ready.
Positioning himself behind a support column roughly ten meters from the apparatus, Julian took one last look at the situation, working out where he needed to go.
The sigil would be on the southwestern quadrant based on the body’s position on the catwalk above.
The body itself was barely visible, but the blood droplets were easy to see.
I can get there in approximately eight seconds if I run…the guards will need at least three seconds to react, another two to aim…odds of survival - barely any, but worth the risk.
The fire alarm shrieked to life.
Both guards jumped. Vane spun toward the sound, already reaching for his weapon.
Julian ran.
He crossed the open floor in a dead sprint, ignoring the shouts behind him. The apparatus loomed up, pulsing with stolen essence. The sigil was exactly where he’d predicted - a complex spiral of fresh and dried blood inscribed into the metal.
“Stop him!” Vane’s voice cracked with sudden panic.
Julian dropped to his knees and scraped his hand across the sigil, disrupting the careful pattern with pure physical force. The blood flaked away under his fingers.
Gunfire cracked through the warehouse.
Pain exploded in Julian’s shoulder, spinning him sideways. He hit the concrete hard but kept moving, kept scraping, breaking the sigil’s continuous line.
The apparatus screamed - a sound like reality tearing - and the containment field shattered. Three shadows erupted outward with the fury of caged hurricanes finally unleashed.
Still breathing. Julian lay panting on the concrete. That’s a plus. Although getting shot is decidedly annoying, and…yep. That hurts.