The fortress didn't have a name, but it had a feeling a cold, heavy isolation that made the Alps feel like they were closing in on us. Inside, the walls were made of rough hewn stone and dark oak, lit by the flickering orange glow of a fireplace that looked large enough to burn a body.
Arthur had taken Toby to a room upstairs, leaving me alone in the Great Hall with Silas. The silence here was different from the silence in New York. In Manhattan, the city hummed outside the glass. Here, there was only the wind howling against the cliffs and the crackle of burning logs.
Silas stood by the hearth, his back to me. He had shed his wet overcoat, standing in a dark dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the corded muscles of his forearms. He looked less like a billionaire and more l
