The mechanical click of the intercom shutting off echoed through the foyer like a gunshot.
For three long seconds, neither Damien nor Bella moved. The wind outside seemed to hold its breath, tossing the heavy Atlantic spray against the reinforced glass of the front windows.
"Trace it," Bella commanded, her voice dropping instantly into a cold, clinical register of absolute focus. She stepped past Damien, her fingers flying across the auxiliary console beneath the screen. "If they're pinging the private relay, there has to be a physical repeater within a twenty-mile radius. A satellite uplink that strong leaves a footprint."
Damien didn't answer right away. His massive frame was completely rigid, his golden eyes locked onto the glowing blue light of the intercom speaker. The casual, almo
