Resting one elbow on his knee, Sebastian scrubbed a hand down his face. Maybe he was more tired than he realized. Refocusing on Leo, he added, “Somehow, the Heads know about me. Not my name, only what I look like. They roughed up one of the children who sit with Marshall. I’ll find his home, see if he needs healing.”
Leo studied Sebastian. He knew Marshall, having met him two decades before on a terrifying night when lives were saved and lost. He hadn’t yet decided if the contact, and subsequent conversation, between the old man and his second-in-command helped or hurt his personal agenda. Not concerned about losing Sebastian, even though he’d withheld information from his friend, he instead considered the advantages of finally bringing Marshall into the tunnels. It wouldn’t be just the o
