Chapter 65 Leo
I stayed outside long after she went in.
The front door had closed softly behind Kristen, the sound barely louder than a breath, but it echoed in my head like a slammed gate. I didn’t move. I didn’t follow. I leaned against the stone pillar at the edge of the property and stared at the dark stretch of road where the black car had disappeared.
My hands were buried deep in my jacket pockets, fists clenched so tightly my knuckles ached. I barely noticed. Pain was useful. It kept my thoughts from drifting too far.
The night air was cold. It seeped through fabric and skin and bone, settling into my chest. The neighborhood was quiet, peaceful, oblivious to the fact that something was shifting under its surface. Cars passed occasionally in the distance. A dog barked somewhere far away. Life went on.
I stayed still.
Because if I went inside, I would either apologize or argue.
And I couldn’t afford either.
I replayed the scene over and over in my head. The way she’d looked at me. The exhaustion in her voice. The way she’d asked what was at stake and I hadn’t answered.
Coward.
That word whispered at the back of my mind, unwelcome and persistent.
I dragged in a slow breath through my nose and let it out just as slowly. Control. Always control.
After a few more seconds of standing there doing nothing, I pulled my phone from my pocket.
The screen lit up against the dark.
One name.
Edward.
I didn’t hesitate.
I called.
It rang twice before he picked up.
“Leo?” His voice was alert immediately. No grogginess. No confusion. “Everything okay?”
“No,” I said flatly. “I need you to look into someone.”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Now?”
“Yes. Now.”
Another beat.
“Alright,” Edward replied. “Who?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Not yet.”
Silence.
Then, carefully, “You’re going to have to give me something.”
“She was dropped off,” I continued, pacing slowly along the fence line now. “By a black car. Driver was a man. Early thirties. Clean. Controlled. Didn’t act like a civilian.”
“Where?” Edward asked.
“Outer road near the safe house. Two blocks south of Phoenix’s west gate. Pull up courtyard and exterior feeds.”
“I’m on it,” he said.
The call didn’t end.
I could hear the faint clatter of keys through the line as Edward shifted into work mode. The background hum of the Realm’s systems filtered through the connection. Runes activating. Screens lighting.
I stopped pacing and leaned back against the stone, eyes fixed on nothing.
“She didn’t want me asking,” I added quietly.
Edward didn’t respond right away.
“Leo,” he said finally, “you know she’s not going to like this.”
I ignored that.
Minutes passed.
I could hear him working. Fingers moving quickly. Interfaces shifting. Spells weaving into data streams. The Realm’s systems were unlike anything in the human world. Part magic. Part machine. All invasive if you knew how to use them.
Edward knew how.
“Give me a minute,” he muttered.
I checked the street again. Empty.
My jaw tightened.
Another thirty seconds.
Then: “Okay. Got it.”
My spine straightened instantly.
“What?”
“I’ve got the feed,” he said. “Zooming now.”
I closed my eyes briefly.
“Send it,” I said.
“Hold on,” he replied. “Let me stabilize it first.”
A few seconds later, my phone vibrated.
A file transferred.
I opened it immediately.
At first, it was grainy. Night footage. Low light. Slight distortion from atmospheric interference. The image wavered as the camera adjusted.
Then it sharpened.
The car was clear. Black. Luxury model. Polished to the point of reflection. Parked at the curb.
The driver’s door opened.
A man stepped out.
Tall. Slim build. Broad shoulders under a tailored jacket. Hair neatly styled. Glasses catching the faint glow of a streetlamp. His movements were precise, economical, like every step had been practiced.
He turned slightly toward the camera.
And his face came into perfect focus.
I stared.
Edward exhaled softly on the other end of the line.
“Recognize him?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “But I don’t like him.”
“I can pull records,” Edward offered.
“Do it.”
A pause.
Then, quieter, “You’re sure?”
“She won’t like it,” he added. “If she finds out.”
I clenched my jaw.
“I can’t protect her if I don’t know everything about her life,” I said.
Another pause.
Longer this time.
Edward didn’t argue further.
“Alright,” he said. “Running him now.”
I watched the frozen image on my phone while Edward dug.
The man’s posture was relaxed. Confident. Not flashy. Not sloppy. No wasted motion. No nervous habits. He didn’t check his surroundings like someone afraid of being seen.
He behaved like someone who knew he wouldn’t be questioned.
That alone was a warning sign.
“Okay,” Edward said after a moment. “I’ve got a hit.”
“Name,” I said.
“Walter Stone.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Occupation?”
“Professor. Phoenix Academy. Recently appointed.”
“Power?”
“Technomancy,” Edward replied. “Adaptive code manipulation. Direct interface with digital and magical systems. High-level.”
Of course.
My stomach tightened.
“Background?” I asked.
Edward hesitated.
“That’s… where it gets strange.”
“Explain.”
“There’s only one record,” he said. “One file. No subfiles. No legacy links.”
I pushed off the pillar and started pacing again.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning,” Edward continued carefully, “no childhood data. No prior employment records. No education logs. No residence history. No travel history. No secondary identifiers.”
I stopped walking.
“That’s impossible.”
“Exactly,” Edward said. “Everyone has something. Even fabricated identities have scaffolding.”
“And he doesn’t?”
“No,” Edward replied. “It’s just… clean.”
I scoffed softly.
“Too clean.”
Edward went on. “No disciplinary flags. No financial anomalies. No off-grid behavior. No criminal traces. No magical residue violations. He looks like the model citizen.”
I closed my eyes.
A man like that is never clean.
Edward seemed to read my thoughts.
“Leo,” he said quietly, “sometimes clean just means clean.”
“No,” I replied immediately.
He sighed.
“Listen to yourself.”
“He was in the right place at the right time,” I said. “With the right access. With the right power set. And he showed up exactly when she was vulnerable.”
“That could be coincidence.”
“I don’t believe in coincidence,” I snapped.
Silence followed.
Then Edward spoke more carefully.
“You’re crossing a line.”
“I crossed that line the moment she became a target,” I answered.
“Surveillance. Data mining. Monitoring her movements. If she finds out…”
“She won’t,” I said.
“You can’t promise that.”
“I’ll make sure.”
Edward was quiet for a long time.
Finally, he said, “You’re afraid.”
I didn’t deny it.
“Yes,” I admitted. “I am.”
“Fear doesn’t justify control,” he replied.
“Fear keeps people alive.”
Another pause.
“I’ll keep digging,” Edward said at last. “Quietly.”
“Good.”
“Leo,” he added, “if this blows up…”
“It won’t,” I said.
But I wasn’t sure.
The call ended.
I stayed where I was, phone still in my hand, staring at Walter Stone’s face on the screen.
Perfect haircut.
Perfect posture.
Perfect record.
Perfect lie.
I slid the phone back into my pocket and looked toward the house.
Her bedroom light was on.
A faint glow behind curtains.
She was inside. Safe. For now.
But someone like him did not appear out of nowhere.
Someone like him did not live without a past.
Someone like him did not leave no fingerprints on reality.
I shook my head slowly.
“A man like that is never clean,” I muttered to myself.
And I meant it.