Chapter 22
Tamsin
Mirae was silent for a moment. The fire behind her popped softly, illuminating the fine lines at the corners of her eyes, and the careful way she held herself like someone who had learned long ago that power didn’t need to announce itself.
She rose from her chair and crossed the room, her steps unhurried, skirts whispering against the floor. She stopped by a side table and poured herself a cup of tea from a dented kettle.
She returned to her seat and folded her hands. “The way into London won’t be easy.”
I leaned forward. “Explain.”
“You’re going to arrive as what London expects,” she said. “Laborers. Cleaners. Dockhands. Displaced families. Traders with just enough paperwork to look plausible but not enough to look important.”
Eamon frowned slightly. “That many false identities—”
“Are already prepared,” Mirae said calmly. “People come and go constantly. The trick isn’t forging a perfect identity. It’s being forgettable.”
Bishop’s gaze homed in on her. “But we’re wolves.”
She tilted her head. “You’ll stay hidden in plain sight. There are neighborhoods where no one asks questions of anyone as long as you don’t draw attention to yourselves. They live in the old districts. Flooded basements. Buildings officially condemned but still lived in.”
“What about the lab?” I asked. “The one where they’re manufacturing the feral wolf drug?”
“It’s been moved,” she said. “Not far, but far enough.”
Bishop stiffened. “I mapped that facility.”
“I’m sorry,” she replied. “But your map is outdated.”
She reached into a drawer and slid a folded schematic across the table.
“They expanded downward,” she said. “Deeper into the old infrastructure. The aerosol dispersal system is no longer localized. It’s modular.”
Eamon leaned in, eyes scanning the page. “Meaning they can deploy it in multiple locations.”
“Yes,” Mirae said. “And they’ve improved the compound. Faster onset. Longer duration. Less degradation in open air.”
My stomach tightened. “So, the attacks we saw—”
“Were tests,” she finished. “And successful ones at that.”
Nox’s jaw clenched. “Fucking miserable bastards.”
Eamon tapped the schematic. “If the aerosol has been refined this far, there must be a countermeasure.”
Mirae’s smile returned, thin and knowing. “I’ve heard some rumors of the existence of one, yes.”
“Are they true?” I asked.
“There is a serum,” she said. “They’ve been developing it very quietly. It reverses ferality completely. The early prototypes had some lasting side effects, but it seems as though they’ve worked past those.”
Bishop’s breath hitched. “You’re certain.”
“My people verified it,” she said. “Twice. On live subjects.”
Eamon’s voice was tight. “Then why hasn’t it been deployed?”
“Because it undermines the narrative,” Mirae said. “If wolves can be stabilized, then the problem isn’t an inevitability. And London does not want to have that conversation. This is simply their fail safe if anything goes wrong or the wrong people get dosed.”
I leaned back slowly. “So, there’s a cure… Or at least a treatment. And they’re sitting on it.”
“Yes.”
“And the lab producing it?” I asked.
“It’s in a different facility,” she said. “Smaller. Better hidden. It’s set in an old research campus just outside the city perimeter.”
She stood again and moved to the door, rapping twice. The inked girl appeared immediately.
“Prepare them for departure,” Mirae said. “Routes, documents, contacts. They move at dawn.”
The girl nodded and disappeared.
Mirae turned back to us. “You’ll leave here in ones and twos. I’ll place you where you need to be. From there, you rely on your network to get you where you need to go.”
She stood, smoothing her coat, and crossed the room. She didn’t go toward the door, but toward the fireplace, where she adjusted a log with the toe of her boot. Sparks lifted briefly, then settled.
“Before we go any further,” she said, “you should know you’re not the only ones here.”
I looked up. “Zara and Sera. They made it in, right?” I replied, my hopeful tone obvious.
“Zara arrived first. Sera shortly after. Both are currently housed a few levels above us.”
Elias shifted beside me. I felt it more than saw it.
“I want to speak with you, Sera, and Zara,” Mirae continued. “Just the three of you. Alone.”
I didn’t answer immediately.
She met my gaze, reading the hesitation. “This isn’t a test.”
“And what about my pack?” I asked.
“They’ll be safe,” she said. “I have rooms prepared for them. Food. Guards who know better than to ask questions. They should rest. You’ll need everyone clearheaded for your journey tomorrow.”
I considered it, then nodded. “All right.”
I turned to Elias. “Get settled. We’ll regroup in the morning.”
He searched my face briefly, then inclined his head. “We’ll be close.”
“I know.”
Griff gave me a look that said, ‘don’t get clever without us,’ then followed Elias toward the door with the others. Nox lingered half a second longer, mouth twitching.
“Try not to agree to anything too expensive,” he said.
“No promises,” I replied with a smirk.
When the room had quieted again, Mirae gestured to the inked girl at the door. “Fetch Zara and Sera.”
Off she went again to do as she was bid.
Mirae poured fresh tea into three cups, the gesture unhurried. “You don’t often see women like you survive this long,” she offered, handing me one. “Not without becoming something unpleasant.”
“I try to be efficient instead,” I said.
She smiled faintly and didn’t say anything in return.
Zara arrived first. Sera followed, her gaze already assessing the room.
Sera crossed her arms. “I’m guessing we didn’t get invited here for compliments.”
“No,” Mirae said. “You’re here because what comes next requires a plan.”
“A plan for what?” Sera asked suspiciously.
“To expose London for what they’re really doing,” Mirae said plainly.
Zara glanced at me. “And we’re going to plan that with her?”
“Yes,” I said. “Mirae has information we don’t.”
Mirae leaned back against the table. “Information is only as useful as what you do with it. London thrives on plausible deniability. They don’t care what’s true. They only care about what they can make appear to be true.”
“So we need something they can’t dismiss,” Sera said.
“Exactly,” Mirae replied. “You need faces. Names. Stories the city already knows.”
Zara’s eyes narrowed. “You’re talking about people.”
“More specifically, wolves,” Mirae corrected. “Wolves who were once human enough for London to mourn. Or fear. Or exploit.”
I felt the shape of the idea settle. “You’re talking about retrieving some of the wolves that went feral.”
“Yes,” Mirae said. “From Ireland.”
Zara let out a short breath. “That’s not a quick trip.”
“No,” Mirae agreed. “But it’s one you’re going to have to make if you want to expose London for what it really is.”
Mirae leaned back against the table, arms loosely folded. “Before you decide who goes where though,” she said, “I have a suggestion to make.”
Zara glanced up. “I’m listening.”
“Start with acquiring the healing serum,” Mirae replied. “You’ll need it in hand before you cross the water again. My people can get you access to a small cache just outside the city. It’s a quiet site, lightly staffed. You take what you can carry without drawing attention.”
Zara exchanged a look with Sera.
“If you find ferals without the serum, you’re stuck. If you have it, you can stabilize them immediately and decide who can travel,” Mirae continued.
Sera nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”
“And you’re certain it works,” Zara said.
Mirae met her eyes. “I wouldn’t suggest this if it didn’t.”
I leaned forward. “How recognizable should the wolves we’re talking about be?”
“Recognizable enough,” Mirae said. “Names London knows. People who were publicly declared feral to the whole city. If they come back lucid, it’s harder to pretend that ferality was inevitable.”
Zara rubbed her jaw. “We’ll need to be selective.”
“You should be,” Mirae agreed. “Not everyone will survive transport. Not everyone will recover enough. You bring back the ones who can speak for themselves.”
Sera crossed her arms. “And while we’re doing that, you want Tamsin’s pack here.”
Mirae didn’t say anything for a moment. She just traced the rim of her cup with one finger, eyes unfocused like she was rearranging pieces on a board only she could see.
“There’s something else,” she said finally.
Zara looked up. “What is it?”
Mirae’s gaze slid to me and stayed there. “Marcus Ashcroft.”
I pulled in a breath. The room went even quieter. Everyone was listening now.
“You can collect proof,” Mirae went on. “Names, faces, statements. You can bring wolves back from Ireland who can speak for themselves.” She paused. “But as long as Ashcroft is still in power, London will figure out a way to absorb or deflect the damage.”
I let that sit for a second before responding. “You think we can get close to him.”
“I know you can,” Mirae said. “Not by charging at him. By following him. Learning his habits…”
Zara frowned. “Following how? He’s not exactly wandering around the city all by his lonesome.”
“No,” Mirae agreed. “He moves carefully. Predictably, if you know what to look for. Estates, inspections, private dinners with people, important galas.” She tipped her head. “He likes to see things with his own eyes.”
My brows knit together, and I cleared my throat. “Including the labs, presumably.”
“Especially the labs,” Mirae said. “He visits fairly regularly to keep an eye on things.”
I glanced at Sera, then back to Mirae. “You’re suggesting we tail him.”
“Yes,” she said, as if it were obvious. “Learn his routines. Learn who clears the way for him. Learn where he feels untouchable.”
“And then what?” I asked.
Mirae’s eyes flicked to her, then back to me. “Ashcroft is very certain of two things,” she said. “That wolves are dangerous. And that he is safe from them.”
Zara stiffened. “You’re not suggesting—”
“I’m suggesting you let him experience exactly what he’s so afraid of,” Mirae said calmly.