Chapter 31 #2
“No sign of the Phoenix,” Jorn confirmed, oblivious to the tension crackling between us.
He was checking weapons now, sliding knives into sheaths with care.
“All my contacts are on high alert. Trust me, if she came anywhere near my operation, I’d know about it.
I smuggle mothers and daughters, innocent people trying to survive Tiberius’s regime.
People who never asked for magic, never wanted attention, who just want to live.
” He met my eyes. “Not apocalypses. If she showed up at my docks, I’d put her down myself and sleep just fine after. ”
Sickness churned in my stomach. These were the good guys. The ones risking everything to save people. And they’d murder me without hesitation.
Because that’s what they did with monsters.
“Speaking of saving people...” Jorn moved toward a small desk tucked against the far wall, pulling out a rolled parchment.
“The docks are shut down, but I’ve got thirty-six names on tonight’s list. Families, mostly.
A few solitaries who finally got smart and asked for help before your guys came knocking. Raids have been up since the Mortalis.”
Wickett shook his head. “That’s too many for one ship. Split them between two vessels or the weight distribution alone will raise questions.”
“No time for that.” Jorn unrolled the parchment, revealing names written in careful script.
Each one a life, a story, a person desperately hoping for escape.
“Your father knows something’s happening.
I don’t know how much, but hunters have been crawling all over the docks this week.
Questions about manifests, cargo weights, passenger lists, destinations.
” He looked up, meeting Wickett’s eyes. “I’m shutting down our operation until things cool off. ”
“Jorn—”
“I’m not discussing it.” His voice went hard. “I won’t risk my crew for this. We’ve been lucky so far, but luck runs out. Always does.”
A sound outside made us all freeze. Footsteps. Multiple pairs.
A young man burst through the side door, breathing hard, evidently one of Jorn’s crew by the lack of alarm. “Hunters. Coming from the east dock. Maybe ten minutes away.”
“Fuck.” Jorn tucked the list into his pocket. “How many?”
“Six I saw. Could be more.”
He turned to Wickett. “You know what we have to do. The plan we talked about. It’s time.”
“Not yet—” Wickett started, the command in his narrowed eyes unmistakable.
“Now.” Jorn’s voice was absolute.
“What plan?” I looked between them, dread coiling in my stomach.
Wickett’s jaw tightened, muscles jumping beneath skin. His eyes found mine, pleading. “I need you to trust me and not ask any questions about what we’re going to do.”
“That’s not how trust works.”
“That’s exactly how trust works.” His voice was rough. “It’s also how survival works. You either trust me or—”
“Or I handle you the way I handle witnesses,” Jorn finished, his hand moving to rest casually on his blade. Not threatening. Just... making the options clear.
The warehouse went very quiet.
Then Silas stepped from the shadows.
He’d been here the whole time, watching, waiting.
But now he moved forward into the lamplight, and as he moved, he grew, swelling beneath fur and feathers.
The small griffin became massive, towering over all of us, his head scraping the warehouse ceiling twenty feet above.
I didn’t need to look to know what those blue eyes threatened.
Touch her. Try. See how long you survive.
The sound that echoed was like grinding mountains—low, resonant, the kind of noise you felt in your bones before you heard it with your ears.
I crossed my arms over my chest, my glare matching that of my griffin.
Both Wickett and Jorn had to crane their necks to see all of him. The young runner had gone pale, backing toward the door like he might bolt.
“I...” Jorn’s voice had lost all its confidence.
He swallowed hard, not taking his eyes off the monster looming above him.
“I take it back.” He looked at Wickett, and there was something almost like humor mixed with the fear.
“Thanks for the fucking warning, Veyne. Really appreciate you mentioning your witch has a familiar the size of a damn building.”
“I didn’t know he could do that,” Wickett admitted with genuine awe, mixed with a little terror. “I knew he was big, but this is—”
“Terrifying?” Jorn suggested. “Nightmare-inducing? The kind of thing that makes you reconsider your life choices?”
“All of that.”
Silas made another sound—not quite a growl, more like a rumble of satisfaction. He was enjoying this. The showing off, the intimidation, the way both men were trying very hard not to look afraid while clearly being absolutely petrified.
I almost smiled. Almost.
“So.” Jorn forced his attention back to me, though his hand had dropped away from his blade. “The witch with the monster familiar.” He took a careful breath. “You in or not? Because we’ve got maybe eight minutes now before those hunters arrive, and this plan either works or we’re all dead.”
I looked at Wickett. At the desperation in his eyes, the fear that wasn’t for himself but for the thirty-six names on that list. At Silas towering behind me, ready to destroy anyone who threatened me. “I’m in.”