The cold was unholy beneath the Alps.
Alina adjusted the black tactical coat around her shoulders as she stepped off the private jet. Snowflakes swirled under moonlight, and the wind howled through the mountain peaks like ancient warnings. It suited her mood.
Camille followed behind, flanked by two of Nicholas’s best tech operatives. Behind them, Nicholas descended the jet steps in black-on-black gear, looking like something carved from a storm.
She glanced at him. “You ready to walk into hell with me?”
His mouth quirked. “Already burning, love.”
Beneath them was the Vault.
A former Cold War nuclear research facility turned covert archive for the Covenant, the Vault wasn’t on any map. It existed in whispers, in the silence between old murders, in blackmail files no one could trace. I
