Chapter 84 A Friend in Need
CALLUM
The message arrives through my assistant at midnight. Human courier, nervous as hell, delivering folded paper like it's a bomb.
I read it three times.
"Mordaunt has the dhampir. It's a trap. Come anyway, you lose. Don't come, she dies. No good options. From a friend in Parliament."
Valentina's captured. Being used as bait. Rescue equals death.
I crumple the paper, throw it across the room.
"Fuck."
Tom picks it up, reads it. His face goes pale. "Callum, you can't. It's obvious trap."
"I know it's a trap." I pace the safe house. Can't sit still. "Doesn't change anything. Valentina's in there."
"And you going gets you killed." Isla appears in the doorway. "Suicide won't save her."
"Neither will abandoning her."
"There has to be third option." Isla sits down. "Think strategically. What does Mordaunt want?"
"Me dead. Resistance scattered. Total victory."
"Exactly. So give him something else. Something that looks like surrender but isn't."
I stop pacing. "Like what?"
"I don't know yet. But charging into obvious trap isn't strategy. It's suicide." She looks at Tom. "Get Sibyl. We need her visions."
Tom leaves. Returns five minutes later with Sibyl, looking exhausted.
"I already saw this," Sibyl says before anyone asks. "You're going to ask about rescue. What happens if you go, what happens if you don't."
"And?" I demand.
"If you go, you die. Mordaunt's got twelve hunters, magical wards, sealed exits. You walk in, you don't walk out." She sits heavily. "If you don't go, Valentina dies. Public execution tomorrow at dawn. Mordaunt makes example."
"So I'm choosing between my death and hers."
"Yes." Sibyl rubs her temples. "But there's variables. Futures aren't fixed. If you change approach, outcomes change."
"What approach?"
"Something Mordaunt doesn't expect. He's prepared for frontal assault. For you charging in desperately trying to save her. He's not prepared for..." She trails off. "Actually, I can't see what he's not prepared for. Too many possibilities."
"Helpful." I sit down, force myself to think. "Mordaunt wants me desperate. Wants me making stupid choices. So I do opposite. Stay calm. Plan carefully. Attack from angle he's not watching."
"What angle?" Tom asks. "He's got facility surrounded. Hunters everywhere. Magical wards. Where's the weak point?"
We sit in silence.
Then Isla speaks. "Time. He's expecting you to come immediately. Tonight. Desperate rescue attempt. What if you wait?"
"Valentina dies at dawn," I point out.
"Or Mordaunt thinks she will. What if we fake it? Make him think we're not coming. Make him lower his guard." Isla leans forward. "He wants spectacle. Public execution. What if we interrupt the execution instead of the trap?"
"Same result. I'm dead, just later."
"Unless we change the game entirely." Tom's eyes light up. "The fae. They owe us illusions. What if we use them?"
I stare at him. "The fae deal was for extermination order. Making Rookeries look empty when Parliamentary hunters arrive."
"So ask them to move the timeline. Use illusions now instead of later." Tom's excited. "They make duplicates of us. Send fake Callum charging into trap while real Callum attacks from different angle."
"Fae don't renegotiate." I shake my head. "Deal's set. They're not changing terms."
"They might if you offer additional payment. Extend the debt, increase the service." Tom pulls out his phone. "Let me contact them. See if they're interested."
He leaves the room, talking in rapid Gaelic.
Isla watches me. "You're going tonight anyway, aren't you? Regardless of plan."
"I can't leave her there."
"Even if it kills you?"
"Even then." I meet her eyes. "I told her we don't abandon our own. Can't break that promise now."
"Callum, if you die, the resistance dies with you. Seventy-three wolves depending on your leadership. Your life isn't just yours anymore."
"I know." The weight of it crushes me. "But if I abandon Valentina to save myself, what does that say? That we only protect people when it's convenient? That loyalty has limits?"
"That you're pragmatic. That you prioritize many over one."
"That I'm like every other Alpha who calculates lives as resources." I stand. "I won't do that. Won't become Cormac. Valentina matters. Not as asset. As person."
Tom returns. "Fae will negotiate. They want to meet. Now."
We gather weapons, head to Blackfriars Bridge. Same location as before. Between-space where fae feel comfortable.
The three Seelie representatives are waiting. Silver-hair, flower-hair, ancient-driftwood.
"Callum Brennan." Silver-hair sounds amused. "Back so soon. Your debt isn't due for five years."
"I need to renegotiate."
"Interesting." They circle me. "We don't typically renegotiate. Deals are deals."
"I'm not breaking the deal. I'm expanding it." I explain the situation. Valentina captured, obvious trap, need for illusions tonight instead of during extermination.
"So you want us to move our service timeline," Silver-hair summarizes. "Use illusions now for your rescue instead of later for Parliamentary evasion."
"Yes. I'll extend the debt. Seven years instead of five. Or increase the tasks. Two services instead of one. Whatever you want."
The fae exchange glances.
"Desperate," flower-hair observes. "We like desperate. Makes negotiations interesting."
"What we want," Silver-hair says slowly, "is both. Illusions now for your rescue. And illusions later for Parliamentary hunters. Two services, one debt."
"That's not fair. You're getting double service for same price."
"We're taking on additional risk. Mordaunt will know fae were involved. Will investigate our involvement. Will complicate our position with Parliament." Silver-hair shrugs. "Extra service compensates extra risk."
"And if I refuse?"
"You walk into trap and die. Valentina dies. Resistance crumbles. We watch from distance with mild interest." They smile. "Your choice."
I hate this. Hate bargaining while Valentina's in a cell. Hate fae games and clever words.
But I need their help.
"Fine. Two services. One debt. Five years." I extend my hand.
"Seven years." Silver-hair doesn't take it. "And we call the debt whenever we want. Could be tomorrow. Could be year six."
"Six years. And you can't call it during active crisis."
"Define active crisis."
"When calling it would directly cause my death or the death of people under my protection."
Silver-hair considers. "Acceptable. Six years. Two services. No calling debt during immediate mortal danger."
We shake.
The same cold burn. Magic sealing the bargain.
"Tonight," I say. "We need illusions tonight."
"What kind of illusions?"
"Duplicates of my crew. Fake versions charging into Mordaunt's trap. Draw his hunters out. While real versions attack from behind."
"How many duplicates?"
"Ten. Make them convincing. Fight like us, move like us, die like us."
"Die like you," flower-hair repeats. "You want illusions that appear mortal? That's complex magic."
"That's why I'm paying double service." I don't back down. "Can you do it?"
"We can do anything." Silver-hair waves one hand. "Ten duplicates. Perfect copies. They'll last two hours before dissolving. Long enough for your rescue."
"And they'll be convincing? Mordaunt won't notice they're fake until too late?"
"Our illusions are perfect. Until they're not." The ancient fae speaks. "They'll fight, bleed, scream. Appear exactly like you. But they can't actually harm anyone. They're images, not warriors."
"That's fine. They just need to draw fire. Keep hunters busy while we extract Valentina."
"When do you need them?" Silver-hair asks.
I check my watch. 12:47 AM.
"Two hours. Before dawn. Before public execution."
"Cutting it close."
"Everything's close now." I head back toward the Rookeries. "Send them to the warehouse district. We'll coordinate from there."
The fae vanish without goodbye.
Back at the safe house, the crew's assembled. Ten fighters. Everyone who can be spared from defense.
"We're going," I announce. "Two AM. Fae are providing duplicate illusions. They attack from front. We attack from behind. Extract Valentina. Out before Mordaunt realizes what happened."
"That's actually smart," Tom admits. "Risky as hell, but smart."
Isla pulls me aside. "Sibyl's visions. You said if you go, you die. How does this plan change that?"
"Don't know. Maybe it doesn't. Maybe I die anyway." I strap on weapons. "But at least I tried. At least I didn't abandon her."
"Callum." Isla grabs my arm. "If you die tonight, promise me something."
"What?"
"Promise the resistance doesn't die with you. That someone else leads. Keeps fighting."
I look at her. Really look. She's been with me since the beginning. Saved more lives than anyone. Earned leadership dozen times over.
"If I die," I say carefully, "you lead. Take over. Keep everyone together."
"Me?"
"You. You've got medical skills, tactical sense, and people trust you. You're the obvious choice."
"I'm not a fighter."
"Neither am I. We're survivors who learned to fight because we had to. You'll do the same." I squeeze her shoulder. "Promise me. If I don't come back, you lead."
She's quiet for long moment.
"I promise," she finally says.
"Good."
I gather the crew. Go over the plan one more time. Illusions hit from the east. We circle from west. Breach during chaos. Find Valentina. Extract. Out in under ten minutes.
"Questions?" I ask.
Nobody speaks.
"Then we go."
We leave the safe house at 1:30 AM. Gives us time to position before fae illusions arrive.
The warehouse district is dark. Industrial wasteland where Mordaunt's holding Valentina in Madame Violette's blood club.
We circle to the west side. Find positions. Wait.
At 1:58 AM, the illusions appear.
Ten perfect copies of us. Moving exactly right. Weapons identical. Even facial expressions match.
They charge the east entrance.
Gunfire erupts. Hunters engaging. Shouting. Chaos.
"Now," I whisper.
We move on the west entrance. Door's unguarded. Everyone's focused on the eastern assault.
Tom picks the lock. Thirty seconds. We're in.
The interior is dark. We navigate by memory and luck. Stairs down to the basement level where cells would be.
More gunfire above. The illusions are dying. Convincingly. I hear Mordaunt shouting orders.
We reach the basement. Row of cells. Silver-lined doors.
Third cell. I can smell Valentina's scent.
Tom picks this lock too. Door swings open.
Valentina looks up from her chains. Eyes widen.
"Callum?" she whispers. "This is trap. You shouldn't be here."
"I know. We're leaving anyway." I break the silver chains. My hands burn but I ignore it.
Behind us, footsteps on stairs.
"Company," Tom warns.
"Go. Now." I help Valentina stand. She's weak from silver exposure but mobile.
We run.
Up the stairs. Hunters appearing from everywhere. They were waiting.
The illusion wasn't enough. Mordaunt knew.
But we're committed now.
Tom throws a flashbang. UV light. Blinds the vampire hunters.
We push through. Out the west entrance. Into the street.
Vehicles screeching. More hunters arriving.
"This way!" I lead them into the warehouse maze. Using terrain. Buying seconds.
We make it three blocks before they corner us.
Twelve hunters. Surrounding us in abandoned factory.
Mordaunt appears from the shadows.
"Well done," he says. "Creative use of fae magic. I almost didn't anticipate it." He smiles. "Almost. But I prepared for contingencies."
We're trapped.
All of us.
"We go tonight," I had said. "Before he expects it."
But he expected it anyway.
And now we're exactly where he wants us.