Epilogue

Later that night, Meara called a war council but only invited Bane and Edge. She waited until after Ryan had gone to sleep and Hunter and Alice had driven off to her house, where they were probably doing anything but sleeping. She waited, standing next to her piano in the parlor, until the men walked into the room.

“Edge, tell Bane what you learned.”

Edge’s face was grim. “First, I learned I’m not anywhere near as smart as I think I am. I’m sorry for that. For my false intel putting Alice—all of us—in danger.”

“Enough of that,” Meara said. “Tell him the rest.”

“Neville pulled off the impossible,” Edge said. “He managed to avoid all charges, and Interpol is even considering appointing him to be some kind of special consultant.”

“He used blood magic on them,” Bane said, frowning. “If he’s out, he’ll be after us again soon.”

“Enough is enough,” Meara told him. “We’re going to take the fight to him. Hit him where it hurts.”

Bane narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

She glanced at Edge, who nodded.

“Edge and I are going to London. The Chamber is going down.”

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