Chapter 29 | Kincade
A week of watching her become something I never wanted her to be.
Every morning, she insisted on stepping into the clearing behind the cabin. Every morning, I’d come at her like I meant it. Because she knew when I held back.
Her determination to destroy Vormund went beyond simple revenge. She had a personal vendetta against him. For herself. For her mother. And she was sharpening herself into the weapon he’d never see coming.
I should have felt conflicted about it. Should have tried harder to talk her out of this path. She’d mastered something that should have been impossible.
When I looked at her, when I saw the way she’d learned to control it, when I knew she was thinking of how she would get her vengeance, I understood.
Two words came to mind.
Divine wrath.
The first few days, the pain had nearly broken her.
I’d watched her fight through it with nothing more than sheer determination.
Refusing to quit. Refusing to give in to the pain pounding through her head.
Each time she resisted the programming, it hurt.
Each time, I pushed her harder because that’s what she demanded.
It was necessary. I knew that.
I hated it anyway.
She was faster than me now. Deadly. Dangerous. And she knew it.
They made her into a weapon. She made it hers. And I’d helped her do it.
This morning, she decided to walk with me around the perimeter.
She was quiet. Pensive. No doubt deciding how and when she would hand the doctor his death blow.
Her hands jammed in the pockets of her cargo pants.
The breeze ruffled her hair, the strands fluttering around her face.
Her cheek had healed enough to remove the bandages.
Now it was nothing more than a faint scar that would never fade.
And they’d done that to her, too.
She’d only ever said the guard who smacked me. That he hit her three times.
Three times. The number had burned itself into my memory. I’d cataloged it alongside every other wound they’d inflicted. She was plotting her vengeance against him, too.
She’d have to get in line.
We walked in companionable silence. That was new. A week ago, every moment together had been carefully measured, conscious of distance and triggers. Now she moved beside me easily, close enough our sleeves brushed.
“What do you expect to find out here?” she asked. “Other than squirrels and birds.”
“The squirrels look suspect. I have to keep an eye on them.”
She laughed. “Since when do you have a sense of humor?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I could’ve taken offense. I didn’t.
“I mean you’re Mr. Stoic,” she said.
“And you wield sarcasm like a shield.”
“Hmm. I do. It’s kind of my thing.”
And she was good at it.
As we rounded the front of the cabin, the phone buzzed in my pocket cutting off any response I had. When I looked at it, there was a message from Silas.
Intel. Four hours. Coordinates attached.
“What is it?” she asked. She’d turned serious.
“Silas,” I said. “He wants to meet.”
“When?”
“In four hours.” I pocketed the phone. “He must have something important, or he wouldn’t want to meet.”
“And you do know I’m coming with you, right?” she said.
“I assumed.”
She grinned. “See? You’re learning.”
“Learning that arguing with you is pointless?” I asked.
“Exactly.” She looked too pleased with herself. “When do we leave?”
“One hour.”
“So, I have time to pretend I didn’t sleep in these clothes. Got it.”
She hurried up the steps and disappeared inside.
The coordinates were some abandoned building three hours north.
Whatever Silas had found, it was going to set her on a path I couldn’t stop.
Vormund’s location. A target. A plan. She’d been waiting for this, planning for this.
Sharpening herself for it. Divine wrath, aimed and ready. God help anyone in her way.
The coordinates led us to an abandoned Cold War military outpost on the outskirts of a forgotten town.
From the looks of it, it used to be a guard station.
Stone and concrete walls built to last eternity.
Now no longer needed. Weeds pushed through cracks in the parking lot.
Windows were dark, staring out like empty sockets watching nothing.
Silas was already waiting there. Leaning against a beater car that had seen better days. Likely stolen. His one good eye landed on her first. But she met his gaze head on.
Pausing a few feet away, he gave her a nod. “Good to see you’re still standing, lass.”
“I still have fight left in me,” she said. “Thanks to you.”
“You have intel?” I asked, getting right to it. No need staying longer than necessary.
“Aye. I knew they’d be looking for her, but the manhunt has escalated. The first safe house was destroyed two hours after you left.”
Next to me, she stiffened. “What do you mean, escalated?”
“I mean both Sebastian and Vormund have their men searching. As many as they can spare.”
She glanced my way but said nothing.
“They want her back,” he added. “You’re expendable.”
“I was always expendable,” I said, unconcerned.
“They know you’re still alive. They know you’re together,” he said. “And so does Decker. He’s personally hunting for you both.”
That didn’t surprise me. He’d hated my choices from the start.
“And the cabin?”
“Safe for now. But not too much longer. They’re casting a wider net. It won’t be long before you have to move again. There is one more thing.” His gaze slid to Anna. “They want to recalibrate you. They think they failed.”
“Because he’s still breathing,” she said flatly.
Silas nodded. “They expected you to finish what they programmed you to do.” He reached into the open driver’s side window and brought out a thick file. “It’s not much, but it’s all I was able to get.”
“What is it?” I took it, flipped it open. She leaned closer to peer down at it.
“Locations of the Knights facilities. Vulnerabilities. Schematics. The ones where they’re doing the same type of procedure.”
“They’re helping the Brotherhood build soldiers,” I said.
“Yes. And they’re doing it as quickly as possible. Some take to the new wiring. Some don’t. Those are killed.”
“Why are they doing this?” she asked.
“When Sebastian took over, he lost men. He needs to build the numbers back up. But it’s more than that.
” His jaw tightened. “The Brotherhood has always been extremists, but Sebastian’s taken it one step further.
He’s convinced that supernaturals—Watchers, Fae, everything—are abominations that need to be eliminated. ”
“Ironic,” I said, my tone bitter, “since he’s a Watcher himself.”
“He thinks he’s above them all,” Silas said.
“A dangerous place to be,” Anna said.
“They’re building an army,” Silas said. “Soldiers who can’t be turned.
Programmed to hunt and kill specific targets without hesitation.
” His gaze flicked to her, then. “You were meant to be the prototype. Turn someone supernatural-adjacent, someone bonded to a Watcher, and, well, you know the rest.”
She nodded, her expression grim.
“And the Knights are mercenaries,” I said.
“They provide the technology, the facilities, and the expertise. Brotherhood provides the funding. Knights don’t care about the cause. They care about perfecting the procedure to sell it to the highest bidder. And Vormund’s expensive prize walked. He wants her back.”
She bristled at that.
“How many soldiers?” I asked.
“Not sure. If they’re killing the failures, there could be dozens in production.”
The implications turned my gut cold. They weren’t coming for her. They were building something much bigger.
“And Walker Manor?” she asked, clearly thinking about her home, her family. “Are they still safe?”
“For the moment. I have eyes on them,” he said.
“Good,” I said. “Keep them there.”
“They’re waiting for you to return,” Silas said. “That’s why you can’t yet.”
Her hands clenched into fists. She didn’t like it anymore than I did.
“What else is in that file?” she asked. “Anything about Vormund?”
I knew why she was asking. I didn’t like it.
“Not much yet. I’m still gathering. All I do know is he’s on the Brotherhood payroll.”
“I want him,” she said. Her tone was flat and unforgiving.
Silas looked from her back to me, question in his one good eye. He knew me well enough to know I wasn’t going to deny her this.
“Get us everything you can on him,” I said. I looked at her then. “Did you ever get his first name?”
She shook her head.
“Find out, Silas,” I said. “I want to know everything. Where he lives. Where he works. Family. Daily routine. Everything.”
“He’s still at Bagras,” he said, “but not for long since they’re moving into a new facility. Munich, I think. I’ll confirm and get back to you.”
I nodded.
“I’ll be in touch.” He opened the car door. “In the meantime, stay put.”
He started the car and put it in reverse, not waiting for a reply.
We walked back to the car in silence. I handed her the folder. She tucked it under her arm as she got in. She was quiet, but I knew that look.
Moments later, we were on the road headed back to the cabin.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” I said.
“Yes, I do.” Her voice was even, steady. “He’s going to pay.”
“Then I’m with you.”
She reached for my hand. I gave it to her.
“I know,” she said. “That’s why I can do it.”
The rest of the car ride was silent. Not the heavy kind. The kind before battle.
The calm before we burned down the world together.