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Chapter 30 - Chapter Twenty-Nine:

The abandoned church in New Orleans hadn't been touched in years. There were no crosses left—just stone and rot. The group of vampire hunters stood carefully inside, each with their guard up. They had no idea who they were about to ally with.

Eleanor and Matthew exchanged worried glances.

"Are we sure he'll show?" Eleanor asked.

"He'll show. He needs us," Isaac replied dryly.

Just then, a figure stepped through the doorway, dimly lit by moonlight.

"Silas Marino," Isaac said, narrowing his eyes.

"Information for immunity," Silas said as he reached the circle.

Maribel studied Silas carefully. As a practicing psychiatrist, she took a particular interest in how he functioned—and how quickly he was willing to discard any remaining morals for his freedom.

"That's right," Matthew replied sharply.

"For your compliance," Isaac said, cautiously moving toward Silas, his grip on his weapon barely relaxing, "you will be outside our jurisdiction. That does not mean beyond our interest."

Silas nodded, leaning casually against the altar.

"Give us the information we require," Matthew said, his body tense, "and we can offer you legal immunity, protection from execution, and the right to act independently."

Silas nodded again.

Every name Eleanor asked for, Silas identified without hesitation. Every weakness Isaac requested, Silas listed. He told them about the hierarchy, meeting locations, and timing.

"You will help us remove the apex predators," Isaac said, stepping closer, attempting to intimidate him.

It wouldn't work.

"I already have."

Finally, the most dangerous question was asked.

"Who is our biggest target?" Matthew asked as Eleanor jotted down notes.

Silas's smile darkened, his eyes narrowing.

"That would be Lucian. Lucian Corvus."

"I think he's getting soft," Isaac smirked. "He protected the fledgling." He snorted.

"Trust me," Silas warned. "She's not a fledgling anymore."

A hush fell over the group. Maribel and Matthew exchanged uneasy glances.

Matthew opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, Silas was gone.

"Well," Eleanor huffed, "he's certainly ominous."

But Maribel wasn't quite finished with him yet.

Pen and paper in hand, she trailed outside the church, following the foggy pathway down the moss-covered hill. She pushed past twigs and branches as they snagged her beige pantsuit, ripping the fabric.

"Dammit," Maribel murmured, pressing on.

Suddenly, her shoe caught on a tree root. She stumbled, barely managing to catch herself against the trunk in front of her. As she caught her breath and looked up, a dark figure loomed over her.

"Followin' me, ain't you?" Silas grinned, leaning against the base of the tree.

Maribel swallowed, brushing off her pants and fixing her hair.

"I'm sorry," she said, fumbling over her words. "I guess I'm just… curious."

Silas furrowed his brows.

"'Bout me?"

"Well," she bit the inside of her cheek, "all vampires in general—but especially you."

Silas smiled.

"Ask and you shall receive, Maribel Cross."

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