The grand clock in the central tower chimed two in the morning, its heavy iron bell vibrating through the dark stone halls of Vaugard Manor. Outside, the rain had settled into a dense, freezing fog that clung to the lancet windows like a thick shroud.
Lalaine walked briskly down the narrow corridor of the west wing, the heavy fur-lined cloak Wilrhic had placed over her shoulders rustling softly against her ankles. In her hands, she carried a freshly organized bundle of decrypted Del Torre estate schematics. She needed Beta Barton to review the subterranean access tunnels before the midnight deployment.
As she reached the grand oak doors leading into Alpha’s private study, she stopped.
The doors were unlatched, resting open by a fraction of an inch. From within came no sound of crackling
