Chapter 80 Mysterious Instructions
VALENTINA
The text arrives at 2 AM. Unknown number, encrypted message.
You want Mordaunt? Evidence is in Warehouse 17, Docklands. Third floor, locked office. Proof of everything: trafficking, murder, blackmail. Come alone. Come now. - A Friend
I stare at the message for five minutes.
Every instinct screams trap.
But the possibility it's real...
Evidence against Mordaunt could change everything. Proof of his crimes could turn Parliamentary opinion, give Alteroni ammunition for reform, maybe even prevent extermination.
Worth the risk.
I text Tom: Going to Docklands. Warehouse 17. If I don't return by dawn, tell Callum.
His response is immediate: That's a trap.
Probably. Going anyway.
You're insane.
Frequently.
I grab weapons. Silver knife, stakes, holy water, UV flashlight. Everything I need to fight vampires in enclosed space.
The drive to Docklands takes forty minutes. Deserted industrial district, abandoned warehouses, perfect place for ambush.
Definitely a trap.
I park three blocks away, approach on foot.
Warehouse 17 is massive. Six stories of rusted metal and broken windows. The kind of place humans avoid because the Veil tells them danger lives here.
They're not wrong.
I circle the building twice. Looking for guards, surveillance, obvious traps.
Nothing. Too quiet.
Ground floor entrance is unlocked. Another red flag.
I go in anyway.
The warehouse is empty. Cavernous space filled with shadows and echoes. My footsteps sound impossibly loud.
Stairs to upper floors are along the west wall. I climb carefully, testing each step.
Second floor: more emptiness. Dust thick enough to track footprints. Mine are the only fresh ones.
Third floor: office at the far end. Door closed. Light visible underneath.
I approach slowly.
The office door is locked. High-quality deadbolt, electronic keypad.
I pull out Tom's lockpick set. Thirty seconds and I'm through.
Inside: desk, filing cabinets, computer terminal.
And documents. Stacks of them.
I start reading.
First file: trafficking records. Names, dates, locations. Two hundred thralls created in last five years. Mordaunt's signature on every transaction.
Second file: murder contracts. Fifteen assassinations, all traced back to Mordaunt. Targets include three Parliament members who opposed him.
Third file: blackmail evidence. Photos, recordings, financial records. Dirt on every major supernatural in London.
This is it. Everything we need to destroy Mordaunt.
Too convenient.
Way too convenient.
I'm reaching for my phone when I hear it.
Click.
The door locks behind me.
Metal shutters slam down over the windows.
Lights come on, bright and blinding.
When my eyes adjust, I see them.
Six vampires. Professional hunters, military gear. Surrounding me.
And in the doorway, Mordaunt himself.
"Valentina Corvino." He smiles. "Did you really think I'd leave evidence unguarded?"
I drop into fighting stance. "This was a trap."
"Obviously." He steps into the office. The hunters don't move. Perfectly trained. "Though I'm impressed you came. Most people would recognize bait this obvious."
"Most people aren't desperate."
"True." He gestures at the documents. "Everything here is real, by the way. Those are genuine trafficking records, actual murder contracts, authentic blackmail files. I wanted you to find real evidence."
"Why?"
"Because real evidence makes better bait." He sits on the desk edge. "Fake documents, you'd suspect immediately. Real evidence? You'd spend precious time verifying authenticity. Time I needed to seal the exits."
Fuck. He's right.
"What do you want?" I ask.
"You. Alive. Cooperative." Mordaunt studies me like specimen. "You're valuable, Valentina. Dhampir with Parliament connections, intelligence network, skills in infiltration. Wasted on Brennan's doomed resistance."
"I'm not joining you."
"I'm not asking you to join. I'm taking you." He nods to the hunters. "Alive. Undamaged if possible. But alive is the only requirement."
The hunters move.
I'm fast. Dhampir speed, vampire reflexes.
But they're faster.
First hunter grabs my knife arm. Second pins my legs. Third injects something in my neck.
Tranquilizer. Strong enough to drop a werewolf.
I fight anyway. Stake the first hunter through the heart. He drops.
Second hunter takes the stake, turns it on me. I dodge but barely.
Third hunter's reinforcing the hold. Fourth joining in.
I'm outnumbered, outmatched, and the tranquilizer's working.
My vision blurs. Legs weaken. Arms go numb.
I hit the floor hard.
Through fading consciousness, I see Mordaunt standing over me.
"Don't feel bad," he says. "Everyone falls for obvious traps when they're desperate enough. You just proved my point."
Darkness takes me.