Chapter 22 · Ephraim's Blood Account

"Your sister's in the basement."

Ephraim froze halfway through the door. The voice came from the corner of his own office, low and steady, like someone reading a grocery list. He didn't need to turn to know who it was.

"Kael."

"Don't move. Don't think about the drawer."

Ephraim's hand was already drifting toward the desk. He stopped. The gun in Kael's hand wasn't pointing at him yet, but it would be.

"She's fine," Kael said. "For now. Sitting on a folding chair, drinking terrible coffee, wondering why her big brother told her to meet him here and then didn't show."

Ephraim turned slowly. Kael was leaning against the filing cabinet, jacket open, one hand loose at his side. The other held a compact pistol, barrel down but ready. His face was calm. That was worse than anger.

"You didn't need to touch her," Ephraim said.

"I didn't. I just moved her. You understand the difference."

"What do you want?"

Kael tilted his head. "The same thing I wanted three days ago. The same thing I've been asking for since you started playing house with Vale and Quinn. Names. Locations. Whatever they're chasing under Cinderfall."

"I don't have that.