Chapter 28 Leo
George was already sweating before the door slammed shut behind him.
I didn’t say anything. Just sat there, hands folded, elbows on the table. I could feel the edges of my own pulse behind my teeth. He stood in front of me like a schoolboy, fingers twitching at his sides. He looked down at the floor. Then up. Then away. He was trying not to fidget, but the fear leaked out anyway.
“You know why you’re here,” I said.
He swallowed hard. “I—I think so.”
“No,” I said quietly. “You don’t think. You know.”
He nodded, jerky and pathetic. “Yes. I know.”
I let the silence stretch until it curved in on itself, until he shifted his weight from foot to foot like he couldn’t stand the pressure of his own skin.
“Why did you leave your post, George?”
“I didn’t— I mean— I just stepped out for a bit. I wasn’t—”
“Finish the sentence.”
His mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. “I wasn’t gone long.”
I leaned back slowly, still watching him. “Long enough.”
He was breathing too fast. “It was nothing. It wasn’t—it wasn’t even an hour.”
I held up one hand. His mouth snapped shut.
My fingers twitched slightly. The two thin metal rings in his ears started to quiver. He flinched, visibly.
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not—”
I didn’t move. Just curled my fingers.
The piercings twisted in place. Not enough to tear. Just enough to hurt. A precise throb of pain delivered by the metal itself.
He yelped, hands flying to his ears.
I waited.
“It was just a girl!” he blurted. “I went to meet a girl!”
I didn’t move. “A girl.”
“She texted me. Said she was in town. I—I hadn’t seen her in years. She was already at the hotel. I thought— I thought I’d be back before anyone noticed.”
I stared at him.
“A gate,” I said. “You were guarding a gate.”
“I know.”
“And you left it. Unattended.”
“I—”
“For sex.”
His mouth trembled. “I’m sorry.”
I stood up slowly. The chair didn’t make a sound.
He started shaking. “I didn’t think anything would happen. It’s been weeks since anything even came through that gate.”
“That’s not your job. Thinking.”
He nodded, eyes wide, full of panic now. “You’re right. You’re totally right. I messed up. I know. But maybe nothing got through. Maybe it’s okay.”
I tilted my head. The metal rings in his ears snapped and twisted in opposite directions.
He screamed, stumbled, blood streaking down his neck as one earring tore loose.
“Maybe,” I said.
He was crying now. Not full sobs yet, but wet and frantic and starting to collapse into himself.
There was a knock on the door.
“Enter,” I said without turning.
Andy stepped in, holding a tablet. His expression was unreadable. He closed the door behind him with a soft click, took two steps forward, and extended the tablet to me.
“Scan results,” he said.
I took it.
The file was already open. Gate logs. Energy spikes. Timeline overlays. The thin red bar that tracked personnel movement was smooth until 10:08 PM. A three-minute gap. Just three minutes.
I kept scrolling.
At 10:09 PM, an entry spike. Gargoyle-class entity. Confirmed breach.
I looked up.
Andy met my eyes. “It’s loose.”
George made a sound behind me. A gasp. A whimper.
“Where?” I asked.
“Unclear. It vanished off-grid within sixty seconds of entry. No visual. No trace.”
I nodded slowly.
Andy continued. “Best guess is it already found someone. A host.”
George collapsed to his knees.
I didn’t look at him.
Andy’s voice was level. “A face-wearer. Standard pattern. Possession via contact, body dissolved within minutes. The host won’t even know until it’s too late.”
I closed my eyes briefly, then opened them again.
“If it finds Kristen…” I didn’t finish the sentence.
Andy said nothing.
Behind me, George was muttering. “I didn’t mean to. I swear. I thought it was safe. I thought— Please, Leo. Please.”
I turned around.
He looked up at me, face blotchy with panic and snot and tears. “I’ll make it right. I’ll fix it. Tell me what to do. Please.”
I looked at him.
He kept talking. “I’ll go after it myself. I’ll find it. I’ll bring it back. Just don’t—”
The rings in his face—lip, brow, one still in the torn mess of his ear—shivered.
He felt it and screamed.
I ripped all three out with a flick of my hand.
He collapsed onto the floor, writhing.
I walked over, knelt beside him, and pressed one hand to his back to hold him steady.
He was babbling something. Apologies. Promises. Begging.
I didn’t hear the words.
With my other hand, I reached down and unhooked the silver dagger from his belt.
He saw it. His eyes went wide.
“No, no, please, no—”
The first cut was across the cheek. Deep. A line of red opened like a mouth.
He tried to push away. I didn’t let him.
The second cut was cleaner. Across the palm. He screamed again, more out of fear than pain now.
Then I started working methodically.
Thigh. Shoulder. Stomach.
Nothing deep enough to kill. Not yet.
Just enough to make sure he never forgot how this felt, for as long as he had left to feel anything.
He tried to crawl. I broke his knee.
Then I rolled him onto his back.
He looked up at me, tears mixing with blood.
“I’m sorry.”
I drove the silver dagger into his heart.
It slid in with almost no resistance.
He shuddered once. Then stilled.
I stood.
Blood pooled fast beneath him. It was already creeping toward the leg of the chair I had been sitting in.
I turned to Andy.
“Clean this up,” I said.
He nodded once.
“No body. No trace. No questions.”
He was already pulling out his phone.
“Lock the city,” I said. “Surveillance priority. Behavior anomalies. Facial mismatches. Pattern recognition. Cross-check with missing persons.”
Andy’s eyes narrowed. “You think it’s already hunting?”
“I think it’s already wearing someone.”
“And Kristen?”
I paused.
I didn’t want to answer that. Not even to him.
“If it finds her,” I said slowly, “it won’t need to hunt anymore.”
Andy said nothing. He understood.
I stepped past him, back toward the door. The blood was still warm on my hands. I didn’t wipe it off.
“Start with hospitals and morgues,” I said. “Find anyone who died tonight under weird circumstances.”
Andy nodded.
I opened the door.
Then paused.
The hallway beyond was quiet. Pale light. Cold air. Everything ordinary.
I stepped out.
Andy stayed behind. I heard the soft scrape of him dragging George’s corpse across the tile.
I kept walking.
By the time I reached the end of the corridor, I could feel it again. That coil in my chest. The tight band of dread pulling itself tighter with every breath.
Kristen.
I hadn’t thought about her all day. On purpose.
Now I couldn’t stop.
What if it was already close? What if it had seen her already? What if it smiled at her from someone else’s face?
She wouldn’t know until it was too late.
And if she found out—
Everything I’d built. Everything I’d buried. Everything I was still trying to keep from surfacing—
I stepped out into the cold.
And the clock started.