Chapter 24
Lucien
Cece freezes. Just for a moment, but long enough for me to notice. Her spine straightens. Breath caught. That name—Kate—hits like a small detonation.
She stands near the entrance, coffee in hand, sharp eyes scanning the three of us.
Tall. Confident posture. She does a quick read of the room.
Best friend—something I already knew, but it becomes obvious instantly, not just in the look she gives Cece, but in the way she positions herself, as if she’d hurl herself between Cece and any threat.
Including, apparently, us.
Her eyes land on me, then shift to Xan. Then back again. She tilts her head, waiting for an introduction. Her voice is casual, but her stare is doing reconnaissance.
Cece stumbles forward a step. “Yeah. Yes. Kate, this is Luc. And Xan.” She gestures stiffly between us. “They’re, um . . . friends. From out of town.”
Kate raises a brow. “Out of town friends I’ve never met until now, huh? And what? Just casually decided to play bodyguard on your coffee run?”
Xan chuckles under his breath. “She makes a compelling itinerary.”
Cece shoots him a glare. “Not helping, Xan.”
Kate crosses her arms and gives me a slow once-over. “So which one of you taught her how to fake normal while looking like she just stepped out of a tactical ops briefing?”
I try for diplomacy. “We’re here to keep her safe. That’s all.”
Kate blinks, the edge in her posture tightening. “Safe from what?”
Cece jumps in. “Kate, it’s . . . complicated.” Her voice lowers. “I’ll explain everything. Just not here.”
Kate doesn’t look away from me. Protective. Curious. And underneath that—concerned. I respect that. I understand that.
“I know I probably seem suspicious,” I say carefully. “But I promise you, Cece’s safety is my priority. Always.”
Kate studies me for a beat longer. Then, slowly, she relaxes her arms just a little. “Well,” she mutters, “if you hurt her, I’ll make sure you never step foot in any realm again.”
I pause. Realm? The word lands with weight—definitely too specific to be accidental. My gaze sharpens as I study her again. I knew Cece had told her about the encounter with us, but I didn’t realize how much she actually knew. Apparently, enough for Kate to drop that word without hesitation.
So she knows we’re . . . not from here. And judging by the fire in her voice, fear isn’t part of the equation. She’s already chosen a side.
Interesting.
So I nod. “Fair.”
The barista calls Cece’s name, and she all but bolts toward the counter.
Kate watches her go, then glances back at me. “Luc. Or is it Lucien?” She lifts an eyebrow. “Just so we’re clear, she’s been through enough.”
“Crystal,” I reply.
Xan sips his coffee, taking one last glance at Kate, and mutters, amused, “Gods, I like that woman.”
I do too. Even if she might kill me one day.
As we approach Cece’s office, my gaze lifts to the towering structures ahead—two colossal buildings spiraling upward in elegant, helix-like formations.
They echo the coiled architecture of organic life, a not-so-subtle nod to the biology this place was likely built to study or manipulate.
I’ve seen Pomerium architectural wonders before, but this suburban campus catches me off guard.
It’s sleek, sprawling, and humming with intelligence.
I inform Cece that Xan and I will be stationed within a two-mile radius, scanning for anomalies—any fluctuations, distortions, or energy signatures that don’t belong.
She tilts her head in acknowledgment, offers us both a quick but lingering hug, and slips through the security booth with a nervous smile, disappearing into the building.
Xan and I head to a local deli we passed on the way in, strategically nearby, just in case.
He’s unusually hyped about trying this realm’s sandwiches, listing meats and condiments like he’s reciting coordinates.
I, however, remain unimpressed. After a week of mostly flavorless meals and disappointing textures, I’ve concluded that mortal culinary achievements are . . . not its most advanced technology.
“So we set up a false routine for Cece,” Xan says slowly, eyes narrowing. “Make it look like she’s slipping back into her old life—work, errands, the usual patterns?”
“Right,” I say, my voice low. “We make it all look normal. Predictable. Safe.”
Xan doesn’t speak, but I can see the gears turning.
“That they’re still watching, still mapping us without making a move? That tells me one thing—they’re waiting. Whatever they’re planning, it needs us to be somewhere else. Possibly to move first.” I let the silence stretch just long enough for that to sink in.
“So we let them think they’ve got us on strings,” I continue. “But in truth, we’re tracking them. We find their anchors—their points of strength—and we dismantle their plan before they even know we’re close.”
Xan’s nod is sharp. “The game’s changed,” he says. “And this time, it’s ours to play.”
I shift my weight, eyes scanning the street beyond the window. A van lingers a moment too long on the corner. A pedestrian hesitates without reason. Small things—but in our experience, small things add up.
“They’re not just watching Cece,” I say quietly. “They’re studying us. How we react. How we think. We can’t afford a mistake.”
Xan meets my gaze, unwavering. “Then we don’t make one.”
“Decoys,” I say, breaking the silence. “We’ll need at least two. Something to pull their focus apart. They’ll expect us to protect Cece, so we’ll use that against them. The signature won’t be altered, but it’s better than nothing—just in case visuals are all they’re using.”
Xan’s eyes sharpen. “Divide and conquer. Make them split their resources. Force them to stretch thin.”
We’re on the same page.
“Agreed,” I reply. “While their attention is scattered, we zero in on their anchors. The place where their barrier is weakest. Those are the threads we pull.”
He nods slowly. “And if they catch on?”
“We don’t give them the chance. We can’t.” I meet his eyes. “We move fast and precisely. No unnecessary risks. We gather intel, disrupt their control points, then pull back before they know what hit them.”
Xan exhales, tension visible even in his calm. “Feels like walking a knife’s edge.”
“It is,” I agree. “But it’s the only way forward.”
“All right,” Xan says, turning back to me. “What’s our first step?”
I fold my arms, steady. “We complete Cece’s routine. Make it airtight. Then we deploy the decoys if we can. After that, we scan for anomalies around their suspected anchors. Discreet and methodical. No surprises for us.”
He meets my gaze again, resolve hardening. “Let’s get to work.”
I pull the phone Cece got for me from my jacket pocket and turn it on. “I’ll coordinate with Cece.”
Xan nods. “Once we’ve got the decoys in place, what’s our timeline?”
I check my watch, already calculating. “We give the enemy a few days to notice the routine. Long enough for them to believe we’re off guard. Then we move.”
He glances back at me. “And if they speed up their plan?”
“We adapt. We stay one step ahead. Just as we do on Imperium.”
Xan’s grin is brief but genuine. “You always think three moves ahead, don’t you?”
I smirk. “Someone’s got to.”
We exchange a look—an unspoken acknowledgment of the storm we’re walking into.
“Let’s get the pieces moving,” I say.
Xan can’t help but wear the mischievous look he always gets right before we go into battle. “Ready when you are.”