Cole returned two hours later, face drawn tight with something that looked like betrayal settling into permanent lines around his eyes.
She knew, he said without preamble, dropping into a chair across from Ronan and me. My contact. She let something slip during the call, something only Callahan's people could have known about the ritual timing. I've known her for six years, worked with her against threats far smaller than this one, and the whole time.
I'm sorry, I said, meaning it, watching a man process the same particular grief I had felt discovering the ledger with Ronan's signature on it weeks earlier.
Cole shook his head slowly. Don't be, he said. I should have seen it sooner. She's been asking questions that felt slightly too specific for months now, and I let loyalty blind me to
